#You know when you hear something awful and your stomach drops and you feel sick | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jadeylovesmarvelxo · 1 month

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Part two to this story

After Jason's cruel display and your identity of Eddie's admirer being public knowledge, you're sure he will be disgusted. He hates you and your friends doesn't he?

Turns out you're in for a big surprise.

Minors shoo! Angst, fluff, sweet Eddie and reader taking no shit.

If you have any requests then send me an ask. My request rules are in my pinned post ❤️

🎀💌

Hellfire Slut. The words had practically burned into your brain as you tossed and turned in bed. Jason's cruelty was nothing new but you didn't think he'd ever go this far.

It was bad enough that Eddie's best friend had caught you in the act of delivering the notes and the thought he could spill all to Eddie, you didn't expect your secret to come out in such a public way.

The notes that you had poured your heart to Eddie had been clear to see by everyone and you felt sick to your stomach. You didn't care that people knew you were smitten with Eddie, it was the fact that he was probably disgusted that you had feelings for him.

You dreaded going to school but you knew you had to face Eddie and Jason at some point. It didn't stop nightmares plaguing your mind all night about what would happen come first period.

...

Homeroom was the first thing today before any other classes, you try not to draw attention to yourself as you slide into a seat at the back of class. However it feels like all eyes are on you today, Chrissy takes the seat beside you and holds your hand giving it a tight squeeze, it makes you feel a tiny bit better.

Mrs Jones isn't in class yet so chatter buzzes around you incessantly, your skin tingles as you feel Eddie's gaze on you a few times, try not to look up into those pretty brown eyes.

One of Jason's friends called Tyler smirks at you, he's sitting beside Jason and says loudly for all to hear. "So little miss perfect likes a freak in the sheets huh? Who would have thought?" there's a little ripple of laughter that's quelled by Chrissy's vicious glare. She's normally a sweetie so swing her pissed shut everyone up.

Ignore him. Just ignore him you chant in your head but he still continues. "You know I was going to ask you out but fuck that. You're a dumb little bitch"

There's a collective silence as you hear Eddie's metal lunchbox drop to the floor. To your surprise he's glaring daggers at Tyler, you also notice that his knuckles are bruised. What the hell happened?

"Oooh you're in luck sweetcheeks, maybe Munson likes you back and the two of you can be freaks together"

You're fraying control over being calm snaps. Screw this. You weren't going to sit and let him run his mouth or let anyone like him or Jason make you cry again.

"You can admit to everyone you're jealous Tyler it's okay. We all heard about the little problem you have, Stacy told us all about how disappointing you are" you fake a sympathetic smile at him and his eyes nearly bug out of his sockets.

Jason looks ready to say something but you don't give the satisfaction of listening to the bullshit he says. "I couldn't be less interested in what you have to say Carver, you're a pathetic, nasty little worm"

While sassing Jason you miss the look of awe on Eddie's face. Gareth snorts at Eddie's stunned look.

"Dude, I really do think I'm in love" Eddie murmurs sounding almost reverent. Gareth sighs. Maybe now Eddie knew it was you that sent the notes the two of you could get together and he could get a minute of peace.

Meanwhile you lean back in your seat relieved as Mrs Jones comes in. There's still a question that's nagging at you though.

"Chrissy, why are Eddie's knuckles bruised?"and that's when Chrissy launches into the tale of how Eddie punched Jason after you left yesterday.

Hearing this makes a small bubble of hope build up inside of you. Maybe just maybe Eddie feeling the same for you might not be as hopeless as you first thought.

...

After a few fruitless attempts Eddie manages to track you down as you're coming out of cheer practice with Chrissy. She gives you an impish, knowing smile as she leaves you and Eddie to talk.

Telling Jason and Tyler what you thought about them made you feel a little bit better for a while, boosted your shattered confidence but now Eddie was around and you could feel that confidence crack.

What was he about to say? Was he going to tell you he was disgusted?

"You don't have to be nervous princess" you feel your nerves dissipate at his soothing tone.

"I know you thought the notes were a joke but they aren't Eddie, I've really fallen for you. I was crushing on you for such a long time. That's why I wrote the notes in the first place, I was worried if I told you in person that you would be disappointed" the words all come out in a rush and you feel relieved getting it all out.

He shakes his head. "I mean I would have been surprised but the way you spoke in the notes...how could you ever think I'd ever be disappointed sweetheart?" His words fill you with hope, a warm and fuzzy feeling in your chest.

"You know because I'm from the dark side" you murmur and he frowns. His hand reaches out to hold yours and you wince at the bruising on his knuckles.

"You didn't need to do that Eddie, I don't want you hurt" he shrugs as if it's no big deal.

"It was worth it. You're worth it"

Eddie gently takes your hand and kisses it, "I fell in love with you through what you said sweetheart, I want to know all about you. I don't give a fuck about who you're friends with or if you're part of the dark side. I just want to be with you".

A slow smile works it's way on your face and you lean forward and kiss him, continue kissing him until you're both a little dazed and smiling goofily at each other.

"Uh maybe we could go out for Milkshakes after school, if you want princess?" you nod feeling the bubble of excitement in your belly.

After all that worrying you were going on your first date with Eddie and you couldn't wait.

Maybe happy endings were possible after all ❤️

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x cheerleader!reader

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mrsnancywheeler · 5 months

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enchanted // finnick odair x f. reader

based off this request

summary: after winning your games you're thrust into a new scene of capitol luxury and parties. in the midst of the gowns, and masquerade masks you meet someone who you instantly feel sparks go off for, victor finnick odair.

masterlist

warnings: idk how I feel about this one, first meeting, allusions to trafficking and Capitol issues, alcohol consumption, reader is a little tipsy, first meeting, kind of innocent!reader, fear of being lead on, unedited, no use of y/n

1.4k words

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

You were grateful for the masks, unless someone studied hard enough they wouldn't know it was you. It hadn't been that long since your Victory, but you'd already been so hounded by people, forced to go to so many balls that any way you could avoid the constant congratulations you were immensely thankful for. Besides you were still in constant awe at the Capitol luxuries, drinking some bubbly drink that made your brain pleasantly fuzzy as you looked at the dazzling chandeliers.

“You must be our new Victor." The voice startled you and you turned to see who it belonged to. He had an aura of confidence even though his shirt was so unbuttoned that it was basically falling off, which would have mortified you. The mask he wore had starfish on it which could be a Capitol fashion statement, but his outfit wasn't gaudy enough for that. So one of the District 4 Victors, maybe? Your brain felt too light to try and think of their names.

“How’d you know that?” You murmured, taking another sip of the fizzy drink.

"The Drusus’ host three annual high-end parties, including one for each victor, so this one. We're all used to, well, all of this." He was smirking, gesturing to the larger than life decor.

“Oh." You hoped it wasn't that obvious to everyone else, although your face had been plastered on screens all across Panem so recently you doubted how much the mask really obscured. He grabbed one of the small delicacies laying on the table and chuckled.

“You match some of the decor too, sweetheart.” The tablecloths were a light purple accompanied with bouquets of lilacs, bellflowers, and statice, you felt your face heating up. Your dress was in fact a complimentary purple as well as your mask.

“My little sister mentioned it was a color I liked, in one of those final tributes left interviews and I guess it's stuck." Your voice is quieter than you'd anticipated, but he seems to hear you just fine. His smugness for no apparent reason should make you bristle, but something about him makes you want to melt into the ground.

He takes a step towards you, face closer than anyone’s has ever been, taking a slow bite of the pastry he's been holding. “Well it certainly is your color." If you hadn't felt like your skin was burning in embarrassment before, it definitely was now.

You gulped, trying to clear your throat, “Um, thank you." No one ever talked to you like this and it felt like he knew that, so was teasing you for it. A stranger was teasing you for your naivete at all of this and you were helplessly letting him. Maybe someone has talked to you like this before, but never with as much magnetism as he had.

“Once you pass glass three, that stuff is bound to make you sick." His hand brushed your fingers, tapping the glass.

You just nodded slowly, "I know.” Another sip was needed to handle the butterflies in your stomach, how terrible was it, to be this knotted up on a man who you didn't know the slightest. To let whatever he was exuding that had never affected you before now slip away, the glass slid back up to your lips. His eyes felt like they were staring into the deepest parts of you which just made you want to drink more.

You nearly dropped the glass when someone began yelling about fireworks. You'd still been trying to get rid of the jumpiness you'd felt since the arena. “Come on." He offers his arm to you and you stare at him for a second, “They're for you." You decide there's no point in trying to reason your feelings right now, your brain is too fuzzy, and it's the Capitol, nothing seems to make sense here anyways.

It shocks you how warm his arm is for someone who's nearly shirtless, he leads you out to the crowded balcony and his arm really is a life saver when you stumble over your own feet. “Thank you!" You're laughing at your own misstep and he follows right along."I'm sorry."

His laughter subsides and even in your misty state you swear a look of pity crosses his eyes. He leans over slightly, mouth so close it could kiss your ear, “They're gonna eat you up, sweetheart, don't let them." The whisper has your brain trying to race to understand, when there's no way you'll be able to reach a conclusion.

“What are fireworks?" You eventually ask, it feels like a stupid question, but things are awkward now which you're desperate to escape. You don't know who he is, or why he's acting the way he is, but you know you don't want him to think you're awkward. His smug smirk is back and that chuckle that makes your heart feel like it'll hop right out of your chest.

“Aren't you in for a treat? Never seen fireworks before, stunned by the chandelier, at this rate you'll never get bored, everything will keep on impressing you.” A loud pop crackles through the air and your legs instantly try to start moving before you remind yourself to stay put. You're safe now, there is no more danger, just that of the charming man making you swoon. That danger isn't helped when he puts his hands over your ears. "Should've warned you about that one, sweetheart.” You know that your fefe must be burning to the touch since it's how you feel.

The pop explodes into much louder noises and then fractures of purple light are flying in the sky, the guests surrounding you cheering for the bursts. They're beautiful, the way the colors contrast the sky is truly enchanting. The rest of the show is equally as dazzling and by the time his hands pull away from you it feels more unnatural to be facing the night air.

“So, are you in fact, stunned?" You nod dumbly, maybe he is right and you should've quit drinking because you feel like such a fool right now. “I hate to go, but I have people waiting on me." He announced and you feel further embarrassment.

“Of course, sorry, I didn't mean to keep you from them." You glance at the floor, but his fingers are tilting your head back up and you can swear the electric sparks are in his touch.

“If anything, they're keeping me away from you." He has to be doing this on purpose, he doesn't know you, not really, but he's finding some sick pleasure in making your stomach twist. He goes to take a step away muttering another sorry, he's lifted your hand so delicately that you barely even notice until he's pressing a quick kiss to it.

“Wait-" He pauses, looking at you expectantly with that smirk. “Um, I- I don't even know your name?"

His laugh is like the perfect melody to your ears, “You haven't figured it out by now?"

You sheepishly shake you head, lifting the glass as an indicator, “Sorry, my brain is so airy right now, like I'm in the clouds." He takes it from your hands and swiftly the remainder of the liquid.

“Stick to the water, sweetheart.”

You wait a second further, "You won't tell me?” That almost feels even more shameful, like you've let yourself be strung along with charming words only for him to not even tell you his name.

He takes a step closer to you, his honey breath fanning over your face. "I've done anything else, that wouldn't be fair to me would it? It's okay, you're a smart girl, I'm sure you'll figure it out.” You could combust right now, under his slightly condescending gaze. Did he expect you to reach out after that, was that too desperate. "Once you think of it, let me know." You just nod along, why would he even want to talk to you? He seemed so magnetic, so enticing, why would he want to talk to you, mess with your brain? He's begun to step away before he comes back, so close you can hear each bitch in his breath as he talks. “You’re so sweet, don't let them take that from you, it's refreshing.” His lips graze your cheek before he's got that patronizing smile on as he talks off, leaving you shocked on the balcony.

Maybe he was just playing with you, like you'd heard man often do, but his voice was so addictive that you didn't care. It made you flush how forward he was, how effortless it all was for him. Somewhere in the fuzziness of your mind it began to click, only one victor was known for his effortless abilities with women, as well as being from District 4. Finnick Odair.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you for reading, I'm not used to short-form writing my brain is currently hard wired for series, so idk how I feel about this but it was fun to write! thank you for the request and keep them coming if y'all think of anything you want me to write. feedback, comments, reblogs, and likes are all super appreciated, love you all 💋

#finnick odair x reader #finnick odair #finnick odair x y/n #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair angst #finnick odair x reader fluff #finnick odair x you #thg #finnick imagine #finnick odair fanfic #finnick fanfic #finnick x you #finnick x reader #hunger games finnick #thg finnick #finnick odair imagine

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dira333 · 3 months

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The way to a (wo)man's heart - Fukunaga x Reader

A/N: Don't ask me how I came up with this. Tagging @fuzztacular for reasons

If you saw the first version - no you don't.

You anxiously look over your shoulder as you push the apartment door open.

It’s not that you’re not allowed to be here, but it feels anything but okay to enter the apartment of a practical stranger when they’re not home.

The key had been under the doormat, just like Yamamoto had said. But your jacket is not in the Genkan as he had promised.

You curse silently under your breath and slip out of your shoes, racking your brain where Fukunaga could have deposited it.

You’ve only been over once, on that godforsaken excuse of a date you went with Yamamoto over a month ago. Set up by a mutual friend you’d considered him cute and yourself lucky until his phone chimed in the middle of the two of you waiting for a table.

“Oh!” He exclaimed, the boyish grin on his face making him look even more attractive, “Fukunaga just invited us over for Dinner! Come on, let’s go!”

He’d ushered you out of the Restaurant before you could fully grasp what was going on. By the time your brain caught on it was too late to back out again, or at least it felt that way.

The kitchen is cluttered with dirty dishes, a laundry basket with dirty clothes deposited on the kitchen table. Your jacket is nowhere to be seen. You don’t want to intrude any more than you have to, but you’re awfully fond of the garment and who knows when you’ll get it back.

Yamamoto’s gone for the week and while there had never been a second date, he’s become something like a friend, albeit a rather unreliable one.

You’re checking the living room when you hear it. Someone’s coughing and it’s the deep, awful sound that comes with being sick.

You freeze, hand halfway under the little Couch.

“Hello?”

No response. You get up from the floor and tiptoe over to the only door you’ve never been through. It’s not fully closed and when you push it open, it gets stuck halfway, its path hindered by a jacket lying on the floor. You recognize the fabric immediately. It’s yours.

Another cough pulls your eyes back up. Fukunaga is curled up in bed, blanket on the floor, his face flushed from what you assume is a high fever, hair disheveled and slick with sweat.

His sight pulls at your heart more than it should.

He’s practically a stranger after all, an unfortunate soul you only met because he didn’t think Yamamoto would bring his date over at the mere offer of Dinner and some games.

“This is Fukunaga,” Yamamoto introduces you, slipping out of his shoes as he talks, passing the guy before you’re even halfway out of your jacket. “He invited us.”

Fukunaga blinks at you, clearly as confused as you.

You haven’t forgotten your manners, moving forward to offer your hand in greeting. But your left foot catches on something and you stumble. Fukunaga barely manages to catch you by the shoulders before you go crashing into him.

His eyes are huge and there’s something about his face that makes him look like a kitten.

“We can’t have you falling for me,” he jokes and you can’t help but snort. His humor sets you at ease.

And it’s a nice evening, even if it’s not a date.

Fukunaga’s Paella has your mouth watering, wishing for a stomach big enough to get a third helping. There’s Inuoka and Shibayama, Kenma and Kuroo, and no one seems to think it weird that you’re there too, sharing their food and demolishing them at Mario Kart. Although, to be fair, you’re only ever going second place. Kenma’s just too good.

“Fukunaga?” You call out softly, unable to help yourself. “Are you okay?”

He does not react. On his nightstand, you spot a thermometer and move to grab it. It won’t hurt to check on him. And you’re right. His fever is dangerously high.

With new determination, you return to the kitchen. The cough drops are almost empty but there’s still some ibuprofen. You fill a glass with water and return.

It’s frightening how little Fukunaga pushes against you when you pull him into a sitting position. He blinks a little but shows no other reaction when you force him to swallow the medicine. Next, you wet a towel and place it on his burning head, your own cheeks heating up when he leans into your touch.

You resolve to give the medicine half an hour to work its magic. If his fever doesn’t go down in that timeframe, you’ll have to get him to a doctor. You don’t have a car and you don’t want to think about having to drag him out of the apartment either, all approximately 70kg of him.

At first, you don’t dare to leave his side. He’s ghostly pale now and shivering even though you’ve tucked him back in. But sitting there with nothing else to do but letting your eyes wander does nothing good for your heart. It’s when you notice that his mouth is kinda cute, lips curled in like a kitten, that you force yourself to get up.

After all, the kitchen does not clean itself.

“Am I in heaven?” Fukunaga asks when you step back into his room half an hour later. His voice is raspy and he can barely keep his voice open, but at least he’s awake now.

“Are you calling me an angel?” You ask, still a little surprised by his words.

He blinks, eyes widening. “You’re not a dream?” He asks, confusion lacing his words. “Am I dead?”

You laugh, can’t help it.

“No, idiot. But you’ve got a high fever. Let me check your temperature.”

Fukunaga moves, presses his temple against your hand as you move to reach for the thermometer. He’s still warm, though not burning hot. The touch, however, sends a shiver down your own back and you’re still fighting for words when he flops back down.

“What’s the verdict doctor?” He asks. He even tries to wiggle his eyebrows around, though they won’t do what he intends them to do.

“Well, my hands are a little rusty at measuring temperature. Let me check with technology instead.” You clear your throat awkwardly.

“Boo,” he makes and you can’t help but snort, immediately more at ease. He seems to have that effect on you.

“Your temperature went down but it’s still pretty high. And your medicine is almost empty. I’ll go out for a bit and bring back some things for you. Anything else that you need?”

“What’s your favorite food?” Fukunaga asks, eyes focused on the ceiling. You wonder if he’s seeing things like you did when you had high fevers as a child.

“Butter chicken, but that’s not really something you should eat right now.”

He still smacks his lips as if he’s tasting it right now. “Good choice.” And just like that, he closes his eyes and drifts off, not responding to any other question.

Fukunaga’s still sleeping when you get back.

You change the wet towel before unloading your haul.

Maybe it’s the crinkling of plastic that wakes him or the smell of food, but he blinks sluggishly and his lips stretch into a smile that has your heart racing in a way it shouldn’t.

“I smell Butter Chicken!” He teases and you look away, too flustered to be able to speak for a second.

You help him sit up in bed, two pillows for support.

The chicken soup you got him is pushed aside when he spots the dish you got for yourself.

Five minutes later you’re sharing the bowl, chopsticks fighting over the pieces of chicken. More than once you have mercy on him only for him to hold his chopsticks to your lips, telling you to “open wide” with a silly little grin.

He falls back into the pillows as soon as the dish is devoured, closing his eyes with a childish pout when you put the soup back into his lap.

“Okay then,” you say with a sigh, “I’ll heat it up later.”

His eyes open again, dark pools of questions.

“You’re staying?” He asks and there’s something hiding in his words that you can’t explain.

“Sure,” you say, looking away in an effort to play it cool, “I don’t have anything to do anyway this weekend.”

Fukunaga sleeps through the day. You wake him up every hour or so to get him to drink some water or eat a few spoonfuls of soup, but otherwise it’s just you and the silence in his apartment.

It would be easier if he was awake. If he was begging you to stay or giving you good reasons why you can’t leave.

But his fever is going down and his cough has turned less deep, less violent. Still, you leave your apartment after fifteen minutes with a fresh set of clothes and a toothbrush, unable to sit still when you feel like he needs you.

And he does, doesn’t he?

It’s in the way he leans into your touch when you help him up or how he smiles when you count out the drops of medicine for him.

But when he’s fallen asleep again and there’s nothing but the Silence around you as you wipe the kitchen counter clean, you can’t help but recognise that you might be you who needs him.

It’s in the way your fingers itch to move through his hair or how your eyes always get caught on his mouth. How your heartbeat stumbles when he smiles lazily or how your cheeks burn when he drops another silly joke.

You don’t sleep well on his pull-out Couch. Every few hours you wake up and listen for his breathing or get up to change the wet towel cooling down his still persistent, though low fever. It’s only around five that exhaustion pulls you under.

“So it’s really you,” Fukunaga’s voice is raspy but loud enough to pull you out of sleep.

You blink up at him, leaning against the doorway to the living room.

“How are you feeling?” You ask, sitting up quickly. His skin has gotten a bit more color over night but you wonder if he’s hunched over from lack of strength or something else.

“Why did you come over?” Fukunaga asks, ignoring your question. “I thought- Aren’t you dating Yamamoto?”

There’s something in his voice you can’t really place. You slip out of your makeshift bed and rush over, ready to catch him should he fall. The thought wakes a dormant memory.

“Can’t have you falling for me,” you joke and step under his left arm, pushing him up.

Fukunaga makes a sound halfway between a cough and a sob. He averts his eyes but you’re too close already and his body responds just like it has the day before, leaning into you like it’s meant to be.

“I’m not dating Yamamoto,” you tell him, your heart hammering in your throat, “There’s just something about ditching a date to hang out with friends that turned me off.”

“Even if said friends make an amazing Paella?” Fukunaga asks as you help him move to the Couch to sit down. Your heart thunders on, makes you open your mouth and answer before you can take the words back, swallow them down, and bury them.

“If anything, said Paella would convince me to date said friends instead.”

His head shoots up, almost knocking into your chin.

“Really?” He asks, something vulnerable visible in his eyes.

“Really,” you admit before you can back out again.

Fukunaga’s lips turn into that smile you’ll probably never get tired of.

“Well, they say that the way to a woman’s heart is through the stomach,” he points out and you snort.

“I’m pretty sure the saying is about a man’s heart.”

“Hmm, maybe, but I could never say no to Butter Chicken anyway.”

You grin down at him. Even though nothing’s been said, everything’s been made clear.

Fukunaga’s stomach grumbles loudly and you snort again.

“Way to ruin a moment,” you tease and watch him blush. “Breakfast?” You ask and he nods, slinging his arms around your neck as if to pull himself up.

Instead, he pulls you down and presses his lips to yours.

It’s only a quick peck, just the softest brush of his lips before he hides his face against the crook of your neck.

“Sorry,” he stammers, “I… I should take you out first, shouldn’t I?”

You can barely hear him over the hammering of your heart, the blood rushing in your ears.

You clear your throat, try your best to focus on what you want to say instead of the weight of his arms around.

“How about you get a quick shower and we go out for coffee? I hear your kitchen makes some decent snacks.”

When your eyes meet his, there’s a twinkle in them that lights a fire in you.

You could be wrong, but you’re pretty sure you won’t get out of this house soon. Not that you mind...

- - -

“Something to drink?” You ask Lev as you put the diet coke in front of Kenma.

He reluctantly pulls away from his phone to give you an answer. You can’t fault him for that, though. You know how it is to be madly in love.

“Is Yamamoto not coming?” Kuroo asks from the Genkan, putting his shoes away. As usual he’s the last one to arrive, work keeping him busy.

“No, he’s on a date,” you answer first, dipping down to press a kiss onto Shōheis lips as you move past him to get more drink. Your boyfriend’s focused on the Paella as usual but he breaks his focus just long enough to give you another kiss when you move past him again.

“And he’s not bringing her over? Shocker,” Kuroo jokes, winking at you when move back into the kitchen just so you can lean against Shōhei.

Yamamoto had been the most annoyed when you started dating, predicting that your “awful touchiness” would end soon because all newly formed couples fall out of their honeymoon phase eventually.

So far it’s been two years without his prediction coming true.

My Kofi if you want to tip me

#my writing #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #Fukunaga x Reader #fukunaga shouhei #Haikyuu Fukunaga #Fukunaga fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x you #haikyuu drabbles #hq x reader

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red-dead-sakharine · 6 months

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Raphael x Tav/Reader (gn)

Dinner plans - Part 2 (good ending)

hurt/comfort, pining, slight fluff

The vote looks quite clear, so I just ploughed ahead 😉

> Part 1 <

He turned his back on the camp - on you - to leave. A few paces further and no one would even hear him swoosh away.

He didn't realize how his fists clenched. Hope's voice invaded his mind now, "Eat. Shit." his brow furrowed, "Stuff your maggoty tongue in some other woman's ear." His jaw clenched, and he was barely able to keep himself from exploding into his cambion form in a burst of angry flames-- "Raphael!"

He closed his eyes. Now it was your voice in his head again. He should never have come here. The sooner he was back in Avernus, the better, and so he picked up the pace.

"Raphael, wait!"

He stopped. The voice wasn't just in his head - but he didn't dare to turn around. To expose the damnable feelings he couldn't keep from showing on his face right now.

There were steps behind him in the soft grass. He'd know that pace anywhere. There was a distinct rhythm to your walk, he would have been able to pick out from a crowd of a hundred people with ease.

"I thought it was you. Almost didn't recognize ya, in that fancy outfit. Since when are you creeping through the dark?" He heard the smirk in your voice. Were you quoting his own poem back to him? No, certainly not. The choice of words was coincidence, for sure. His mind was set. He wouldn't inflict this torment upon himself again.

He took a breath to steady his voice, "I was on my way to you, little mouse, but business calls me elsewhere. I have a war to fight, after all." Yes. Good. He sounded just as charmingly non-chelant as he had intended. He'd be damned, if he'd give you any hint of how he truly felt.

"Oh." Was that disappointment in your voice? "I had hoped, you'd join us celebrating."

He forced out a scoff, "As if I had the time to waste on such a sorry excuse of a celebration." Good. That shut them up. Now all he had to do was say something grandiose in parting, and he could teleport away.

His eyes dropped down to your face, as you stepped around and in front of him. Damn you.

"I'm sure anything you could set up would be much more impressive, but we had to make do with what we've got. Stay. Please? This is as much your victory, as it is ours."

It took all the self-control he had, to keep his face neutral, while his insides felt like an orthon was step-dancing on his stomach. You wanted him to stay. You wanted his company. 'Please'? You wouldn't have said that, if you weren't serious. Not like this; not with this tone. As much as he wanted to stay mad, to cling to the decision he had made earlier, to leave and start his war, and never think of you again, his resolve was crumbling faster than a dry sandcastle.

And with every passing second he spent looking into those beautiful eyes of yours, that longing, he had tried so hard to suppress, bubbled up in him and threatened to overtake him, and ruin his composure. Damn these unruly feelings!

"And what, pray tell," why was it so hard to keep his voice casual now?, "would I do at this party of yours? Drink awful, cheap wine, and have boring conversations with your companions, who don't want me there any more than I want to be in their company."

Good, yes. That sounded appropriately pejorative.

You looked dejected, and for a moment that invisible orthon was kicking his insides again. But then that spark returned to your eye - that spark he enjoyed so much. That spark of unbreakable determination.

"You could recite some poetry," you offered with an honest smile, "I always enjoyed your little rhymes."

That stupid orthon was grabbing his heart in its fist now, and squeezed it like a lemon. Damn this - whatever this was! Damn you, for making him feel sick!

"Oh, did you now?" he raised a brow at you, doing his damnedest to keep the casual tone, "And what would you have me recite? Do you expect me to compose a verse to your heroic victory over the elder brain?" His voice dripped with sarcasm and he made the idea sound absolutely ludicrous, but he had, indeed, written down some rough verses featuring you. Not that he would ever admit that.

"No," you chuckled, "I can't really picture you singing verses to my glory. But I'd bet a hundred gold pieces that you wrote something about the crown."

His composure was cracking, and he was certain that it showed on his face despite his best efforts. How did this stupid mortal know him so well? Understand him so well? Of course he had written about the crown. He needn't mention that it was in the same poem that heralded him as the glorious new archdevil supreme, with his little mortal hero at his side.

It took him a moment too long to respond, and he could see that mischievous glint in your eye, and that smirk on your lips. You knew, you were right. And you knew that you had him.

"Come" you said, and he felt his arm rise, as you started walking, and looked down to find your hand in his, dragging him after yourself towards the camp, "Have at least one glass of awful wine with me, and if you're really having such a bad time, I'll let you go."

'Let me?' I can go whenever I damn well please! he thought, as he followed you; his hand still in your clutches.

He wanted you to never let go again.

▶️ Continue

#bg3 #raphael #fanfiction #hurt/comfort #whump #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #fluff #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #baldur's gate 3 raphael #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael the cambion #rds #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3

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vestaclinicpod · 5 months

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Audio Drama Sunday - 14th Jan ✨

Oh, friends, I have had a shit week but these listens have definitely gone some way to making it bearable. Happy Audio Drama Sunday 🎧

👻 @tellnotalespod oh how I love you and how I have missed you!! It seems that some time has passed since the end of S1 and Leo has OBVIOUSLY made absolutely stellar choices in the meantime. Nothing is better for one’s mental health than isolation and trusting the slimiest creature on god’s green earth.

🦀 @thesiltverses (37) my beloved Silt Verses have returned with a frankly exceptional HOUR long episode filled with so many things to scream about that I don’t even know where to start. Val’s revelation that extreme power can also be used to bring people joy is VERY interesting indeed. They were never going to be able to control her, but I doubt it even more now. And PAIGE stepping up!! Part of me really wants a Val vs Paige stand off but most of me wants to protect Paige at all costs… I am loving the music choices this episode and the scene with the telephone calls was so good! Also, PLEASE stop foreshadowing Carpenter’s death, I am going ‘lalalalalala I can’t hear you!!’

🧳 I listened to episode 8 of Travelling Light by @monstrousproductions after a night shift and the hazy tiredness only served to make it even more transcendentally beautiful. I adore the blossoming friendships aboard the Tola, especially between the Traveller and Óli 😭🌌

👁️ @malevolentcast (39) I love it when you can *feel* that an episode is gearing up to a season finale, a few little loose strands tied up here and there but one BIG problem looming for the finale. I NEED to remember to not listen to this show when I’m emotionally compromised in any way because I found myself bloody sobbing as Marie was talking about her son. I should know that Malevolent is going to play dirty with my emotions.

🏛 @the-mistholme-museum ENDLESS okay I don’t want to ruin this for anyone who hasn’t listened yet but !!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!! and !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! let’s go!!!!!!!!!!!

🐬 @patterspod P Files brought creative levity into our lives with the tale of Professor Fantabulum. I’m honestly a huge fan of the idea of creative genius as a torch passed on to the people who you inspire

🌨️ @thewhitevault (5) Oh I just don’t trust this guy at all. . . everything he says is so perfectly plausible that there’s just obviously something wrong with him. My friend pointed out that the family meeting mentioned surveyors . . . . . Now S has been killed by something . . . . I just adore the way The White Vault slowly ramps up the cosmic kind of horror but you’re so distracted by all the other scary human shit going on that your brain is primed and ready to be terrified by the obviously fictional stuff by the time it happens. It’s such clever writing!!

❤️‍🔥 The Love Talker (6) Ah, now, Ren…. Just because you *can* do something, doesn’t meant necessarily mean that you should… you feel me? Some of the anatomical descriptions in this episode made me want to vomit a little. It’s so awful, I need to know what happens next!!

🏢 @somewhereohio (S2E5) I’m absolutely living for these scenes with Green and Sterling. Are they squishing my heart into pieces? Yes. Do I feel sick to my stomach thinking about the impossibility of trying to perfect and control the one you love? Yes. Can I have more, please?

🍾 I finished season 1 of @ameliapodcast and what an absolute DELIGHT that ending was!! What an absolutely masterful raising of the stakes at just the right moment in time to keep the listener absolutely hooked. I hope Tara and Lily come back one day, they were so much fun and I think will be even more fun as free agents!

🌫️ @souloperatorpod dropped this week and the first episode is very intriguing indeed! I think I need to relisten without any distractions if I want to stand a chance of collecting all the threads of red string I’m going to need for this show! I really love the theme music and am very excited for more!

♦️ The Grotto continues to be an absolutely WILD delight. I caved and listened to two episodes this week but it’s okay because I still have ep 4 in my back pocket. I love the music, the sound design, the fact that it is literally impossible to work out what the hell is going to happen next. Go listen to The Grotto!!

Thanks to everyone making art - it makes things better 💓 I’m so excited for @camlannpod next week!!

#audiodramasunday #audio drama sunday #tell no tales #malevolent spoilers #tsv spoilers #the amelia project #travelling light #the mistholme museum of mystery morbidity and mortality #finding pattersby #the white vault #the grotto #soul operator #the department of variance of somewhere ohio

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vaporwavebeach-writes · 8 months

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Kinktober Day 17 (Threesome)

Vladimir x Reader x Stefan (NSFW)

(1,233 Words)

Summary: you plan on getting revenge on Vladimir and Stefan, but end up with something way better

Warnings/Tags: 18+, gender neutral reader, aftermath of being turned, canon typical violence (bc duh vampires), vlad and stef being sleazy, blowjobs (giving), vlad and stef being gay (a little at the end), fingering, penetrative sex, threesomes (duh)

Notes: I saw these two and KNEW what I had to do LMAO I used to be down bad for the Romanian coven way back in the day (specifically for vlad sorry I’m biased LMAO) and I think myself from two years ago would be proud of me for this one, enjoy the fic!!!

It all happened so fast. The way they sank their teeth into you, ripping into your flesh. How garbled your screams were as blood filled your throat, coughing it up. You could feel them sucking the blood out of you, growing woozy through the attack. Once it was all said and done, all you could do was lay there, wavering on the verge of death, processing what happened. One blond and one brunet. You’d never forget their faces- their bright red eyes.

But here you are, alive. Or, at least you think you are. You’re alive, but definitely not the same as you were. This time, you’re stronger. Angrier. Thirstier. There was a pit in your stomach, and you don’t know how to fill it. Your hands shake, feeling the indescribable urge to just attack; wanting nothing more than to rip your teeth into the nearest thing you see.

As you run through the forest- looking for anything to sate the adrenaline pumping through you, that is when you finally see them again. Their hair and eyes are unmistakably what you remember. Stopping dead in your tracks, you hide yourself in the tree line, ready to get some answers, or depending on if you could control yourself, ambush them.

They sit there on their logs, around a campfire, completely oblivious to your presence. Dropping from the tree line, you charge toward the blond, putting him in a headlock and pinning him chest first to a tree.

“What the fuck did you two do to me?” You snarl.

“Aw look, Stefan,” the blond laughs, crushed against the tree. “They survived!”

“Impressive strength, for a newborn.” You turn to hear the deep, amused laughter of the man, apparently named Stefan, from behind you. He shoots an entertained look at the blond, who looked at back at him with a smirk that gives you pause.

You quickly come to realize, that they are not afraid of you. Regardless, you stand your ground, keeping a firm grip on the blond.

“You two have five fucking seconds to tell me what happened to me or I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Kill us?” Stefan speaks up. “You hear that, Vladimir? The newborn thinks they can kill what is already dead!”

You freeze for a moment, confused. You’re completely taken off guard when Vladimir, the blond, breaks free from your grasp. There’s hardly enough time to fight back when you suddenly find yourself the one now pinned against the tree.

Their laughter rings in your ears; clear, low, and almost carnal. That pit in your stomach begins to churn, and not necessarily in a bad way. Vladimir’s body is impossibly close to you, with Stefan making his was beside you. You let out an audible exhale as you feel yourself be pushed further into the wood.

“So much fight…” Whispers Stefan.

“…For such a young thing,” finishes Vladimir. You can feel the back of his hand trail slowly down your cheek.

“You two are fucking sick,” you spit, turning your head away from him. His hand rapid makes its way beside you, dangerously close to your throat.

“We are not sick,” chuckles Vladimir, “it’s just difficult to talk when the one who wants answers is…”

“…Wound so tight?” You can hear Stefan’s voice coming from the other side of your ear. You wonder when and how he made it over to you so quick.

“Exactly,” replies Vladimir. “Which is why…” his hand drags over your throat. His grasp is cold, light, soothing the adrenaline that pumps from within you.

“…You need to relax.” Stefan is now directly at your side. You can feel his breath along the outside of your neck, down to your shoulder. He places a hand on your arm, soothing it down.

It kills you inside to know how much you’re enjoying this. You release some tension, signaling that killing them isn’t the only thing you want anymore. You take a deep breath in, swallowing your pride.

“Try anything, and I’ll rip you apart,” you whisper.

Your consent seems to be enough for them. You can feel Vladimir’s lips first, attacking your lips with fervor. Not far behind, Stefan’s lips make their way to your throat, hungrily, but not like when they drank the blood from you before. Their touch was something different completely. This was carnal.

You let out a soft moan as you feel a hand drop in between your legs, gathering your liquid arousal. Another pair of hands starts feeling you up, leaving no curve or crevice untouched.

“Wow,” Stefan groans softly. “Who new that a newborn would be so…”

“…Easy?” Finishes Vladimir.

The way they spoke in tandem was uncanny, similar to they way they worked together to touch you. Feeling a finger slip inside you, you grip the back of the tree so roughly, you could swear you hear a crack.

“Oh god,” you sigh, “h-holy fuck.” Your legs start to feel like jelly. Hearing the salacious chuckles from in front of you, you can only assume that Vladimir is the one finger fucking the daylights out of you, while Stefan gropes at you.

You can hear the sounds of a belt unbuckling and the sound of pants hitting the floor of the forest. You feel yourself being bent over, gripping to the tree for dear life. You hardly notice that your pants are down to your ankles, feeling the sensation of a stiffened cock teasing your inner thighs.

Looking in front of you, Stefan stands there expectantly. You take down his pants, freeing his length. You grip the shaft, firmly- as a warning. You look up at him dangerously, teasing him with a baring of teeth, before taking him into your mouth.

You let out a sudden whine when Vladimir eases himself inside of you. Stefan shudders as your moans vibrate around his cock.

“God look at you,” gasps Vladimir. “Getting ravaged like a whore.”

The degradation sends spasms of pleasure through you as he continues to fuck you. You try to talk back, but continue to muffle yourself on Stefan’s cock, where he generously allows you to control the pace. As you get the sense of where he seems to be enjoying himself too much, you slow down.

“Easy,” you direct. “T-tell your b-buddy up there to cool it with, fuck, with the remarks.” Stefan practically whines as you loosen up on him. Managing to keep your strength while getting fucked, you grip onto his leg, steadying yourself. You hear Vladimir bark out a sadistic laugh from above you.

“You’re funny,” he grunts, “thinking you have power here…”

“We know all the answers…” replies Stefan, halfway jerking himself off while you gingerly suck the head of his cock.

“…We know what you are,” croons Vladimir. His pace rocks into you mercilessly. You’re left almost breathless, feeling your orgasm rapidly approaching. You feel that if you come, you would be letting them win their strange game they seem to be playing with you. All that flies out the window when Vladimir’s cock hits the deepest part of you. You let out a restrained scream as your orgasm rips you in two.

You look up to find Vladimir and Stefan in an embrace, mouths attacking one another’s as you ride out the throes of your orgasm.

“You did so well, newborn.” Hums Vladimir.

“…But, we still have a long way to go…” chuckles Stefan.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #romanian coven x reader #vladimir twilight x reader #stefan twilight x reader #twilight x reader #twilight smut #romanian coven twilight #romanian coven smut #mia writes twilight!!!

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the-darkestminds · 7 days

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Autumn's Shadow: Chapter 5

Azriel x Eris (Azriel POV)

Summary: A covert meeting between Azriel and Eris to exchange valuable intel leaves Azriel reeling—and questioning everything he has ever felt for the Heir of Autumn. Azriel finds himself inexorably drawn to Eris, unable to resist his captivating allure. With the threat of Koschei and Beron looming ever closer, can their forbidden love endure in the face of such danger?

a/n: The plot is not canon compliant. For this chapter I assumed Azriel has never been to the Autumn Court beyond his unpleasant stints at the border. Also slowed down Fae healing just for funsies. Some descriptions of violence and injuries.

Let me know if you want to be added to a tag list!

Read on AO3!

Full Chapter List

Chapter 5:

Azriel closed his eyes as the cool evening breeze swept softly over his skin, ruffling his dark hair. He loved Velaris this time of year. The days were crisp and the green of the trees had slowly faded into reds and golds. He preferred the longer nights. As he surveyed the forest around him he breathed deeply in an attempt to calm his nerves. He was here on orders from Rhys to find out what Eris had told Beron of his capture and subsequent rescue. Though Azriel knew he would’ve come up with an excuse to see Eris, orders or no. There had been some spark between them, and then everything had gone to shit. He didn’t know where that left them. The thought made him nervous.

He shook off the doubt that threatened to swallow him every time he thought too long about Eris Vanserra. He should be celebrating. Briallyn was gone, decimated by Nesta when the queen attempted to use Cassian against her. He was still in awe of how far Nesta had come. She’d completed the Blood Rite and had scaled Ramiel, along with Emerie and Gwyn, something no other non-illyrians, or females, had ever done. He was proud of her, his friend. And then she had saved Feyre and Nyx—and Rhys. It had been the scariest minutes of his life, watching the life drain out of Feyre, hearing Rhys scream, seeing the too-tiny babe silent in Mor’s arms. He’d had more than one nightmare about it and spent as much time with Nyx as he could this past week to quiet his fears. He felt better with the boy safe in his arms. A reminder that everything had worked out, thanks to Nesta. He shivered at the memories.

As if summoned on the chilled fall breeze, Eris appeared in the clearing before him. Before Azriel could open his mouth in greeting, Eris stumbled. His first thought was that Eris was drunk, but then he smelled blood.

“What’s—Eris?” Azriel’s eyes widened in alarm at the state of the male before him. Eris’s creamy white skin, normally glowing with health, was wan and gray. The red freckles scattered across the bridge of his nose and cheeks looked like tiny drops of blood. He shone with sweat as he panted through clenched teeth and looked at Azriel with pain-glazed eyes.

“What happened.” He heard the harshness of his voice and tried to soften it, “Eris, what’s wrong—?” Eris stumbled again, and then dropped to his knees before sprawling face first onto the hard ground beneath him, too quickly for Azriel to break his fall. “Eris!”

Azriel hissed through his teeth as he knelt beside him and got his first look at Eris’s back. The white of his shirt was completely soaked through with blood. He could see that the fabric had been slashed into his skin, like whoever had done this had been too lazy to remove the shirt before inflicting the damage. Eris’s arms shook with pain as he tried to push himself off the ground, half-sobbing through clenched teeth. Azriel grabbed his arm and hauled him the rest of the way up. Eris cried out in agony.

“I don’t want your pity,” he groaned. The words lacked their usual bite, and Eris swayed precariously enough that Azriel was forced to bear nearly all of his weight.

Azriel was no stranger to blood, or pain. So why did he feel utterly sick to his stomach at the sight of those wounds open and bleeding? Why did the sound of Eris’s pained cry pierce something deep in his chest? Azriel didn’t respond—didn’t want to hear the tremor of fear in his own voice. He didn’t stop to think, he just summoned his shadows and let them pull him and Eris along in their dark current.

***

Azriel stepped out of the shadows in the corner of his apartment in Velaris. In the seconds it had taken to shadow-walk to his place across town, Eris had passed out. His blood now coated the back of his pants, and Azriel’s shirt was damp with it as well.

Azriel gently laid Eris face down on his bed. The blood would certainly stain the white sheets, but things could be replaced. He summoned a healer’s kit using his shadows and leaned over the male to get a closer look at the wounds. Azriel had enough battlefield healing skills to tend to the deep gashes. He let out a sigh of relief that he wouldn’t need to find a more experienced healer. He didn’t want to explain to anyone why the Heir of Autumn was bloody and injured in his bed. He also suspected that Eris would hate to be seen like this by anyone in the Night Court. It did something funny to Azriel’s stomach that Eris had sought him out. Or perhaps Eris had nowhere else to go, no one else he trusted…The thought didn’t sit well with him.

Azriel worked quickly but carefully as he cut through the fabric of the shirt until only the stuck ribbons of cloth remained. As gently as he could, he worked to remove those strips from the wounds on Eris’s back.

He gritted his teeth as he tugged the last one out and the wound reopened, causing Eris to stir and moan in pain as more blood trickled down his sides. Azriel’s shadows swept out to soothe him, and seconds later he was unconscious again, allowing Azriel to clean the wounds and apply the salve to his back. The gashes would heal, but there would be significant scarring. He could see the faint remnants of old scars, a patchwork of pain that Eris was clearly no stranger to. Azriel looked away, not wanting to see the evidence of what he was quickly suspecting Eris’s life had been like with Beron as his father. He didn’t want to consider why it kindled such fury in him. So instead, he let his mind drift as he gently washed the blood away and bandaged the wounds. He battled with himself for a few seconds and decided to leave Eris’s blood-drenched pants on. He didn’t know how Eris would react if he woke up in only his briefs.

Once that was decided, he washed the blood off his own hands and changed into a clean shirt and sweats. Azriel lingered by the bed, listening to the steady sound of Eris’s breathing. He allowed himself a moment to admire the male’s face, so much softer in sleep. Azriel noticed the fading bruises along his cheekbone and clenched his jaw tightly. Was there any form of abuse Eris hadn’t endured? How had he been so blind to it?

Eris had known what he would face upon returning home to Beron—had clearly endured this form of torture before, gauging by the deep scars scattered across his back. He’d been afraid, and Azriel had insulted him. He rubbed his hands over his face and sighed miserably. For all he knew it had been going on since Eris was a child. He pictured a young, innocent Eris facing a similar fate and considered winnowing to Autumn right then and there to tear Beron apart.

Before Azriel could stop himself, he reached down and brushed aside the stray lock of hair that had fallen across the male’s forehead. Eris sighed contentedly in his sleep. He dropped his hand and stared down at him, thinking. He'd never really seen Eris—had never looked too closely, always too consumed by his own hate and rage to think of anything else. But he was looking now.

Azriel promised himself he would do better as he settled into the plush chair across the room to watch over the male sleeping in his bed.

***

Azriel stayed awake all night, watching, while Eris slept like the dead. The room was still dark, dawn a few hours off, when the male finally stirred. Azriel threw his own shadows around himself like a cloak as he silently stepped back into the far corner of the room, hidden from view. He wasn’t sure if Eris would want to see him, what with the vulnerable state he was in.

Eris hissed as he sat up fully, the still-tender cuts on his back pulling painfully from the movement. He watched as Eris rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and glanced warily around the room, and then at the bandages wrapped around his torso. Azriel’s scent likely told him enough about where he was. When he noticed the clean shirt Azriel had folded and left on the table beside the bed he picked it up and carefully slid it on.

Eris looked directly at Azriel and mumbled, “Thank you.”

Azriel blinked in surprise and looked down at himself. He was completely hidden by shadows. How on earth did Eris know he was there?

“Are you going to hide in the shadows all night?” Eris asked. His voice was hoarse, like he’d been screaming. Azriel let the shadows drop as he walked across the room towards Eris. He stopped several feet away, unsure of himself.

“Are you in pain?” he asked. Eris huffed a laugh, though there was no humor in it.

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

Azriel’s brows furrowed in concern. He summoned the healing salve from his shadows and handed it to Eris.

“In case it becomes too much, have someone apply this to the wounds.” He hoped there was someone in Autumn who would. Maybe his mother could help him. Eris eyed the salve skeptically and Azriel sighed, “Eris…don’t be difficult. Please, just take it.”

Eris reached out and accepted the small tin. He pocketed it as he stood slowly with a soft groan.

“Thank you,” he said again. Azriel nodded.

“You can stay, if you want,” Azriel offered quickly, “For however long you want.” Eris studied him with bleak eyes and shook his head slightly.

“I’ve been gone too long already…I should get back.” He looked like he’d rather do anything else. Azriel nodded, unsurprised by the refusal. Eris’s life was complicated. Far more complicated than Azriel had ever imagined. He was an idiot for not realizing it sooner. They stood there quietly, looking at each other.

Before Eris could leave, Azriel reached out and squeezed his hand gently, his cheeks flushing faintly.

“Just…be careful,” he said softly. He knew the words were spoken too late, and probably didn’t make a difference anyway. Eris stared at him for a few more seconds, some emotion Azriel couldn’t place swirling in his eyes, and then winnowed far away. Azriel clenched his fist against the loss of those warm fingers in his.

***

Four days later, Azriel sent a note to Eris asking to meet up wherever was most convenient for him. Their alliance was still a secret to all but Lucien, Jurian, and Vassa, and would remain so until Beron was disposed of.

A day after the note was sent, Eris agreed to meet on the outskirts of the small town several dozen miles east of Velaris. When Azriel arrived, Eris was already there, sitting on a smooth boulder, his legs dangling off the edge as he leaned back on his hands. He didn’t look at Azriel, but he could tell Eris knew he was there. He always knew.

Azriel walked over and settled on the other end of the rock. He glanced at the male’s cold face and saw the purple bruises under his eyes. Eris still didn’t look at him. He only gazed off towards the rolling hills, as if admiring the autumn colors that now dominated the land. The playful male from several weeks ago was gone. Or hidden deep inside this shell that sat before him.

Before Azriel could speak, Eris said, “I suppose you want to know what I told Beron?” His voice was hollow. Empty.

“That’s not why I’m here.” Though technically, it should’ve been. Eris finally turned his head and stared at Azriel blankly, waiting. He saw none of the usual fire in his eyes, only shadows. “I just—”

“I suppose I owe you a debt,” Eris interrupted. “Normally I conduct myself better than that. My apologies, shadowsinger.” He tried to smirk, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“There is no debt, Eris. I just—” Azriel stumbled, afraid the wrong words would send Eris running again. “I wanted to see if you were alright,” he admitted woodenly. Eris just looked at him, his eyes cold and haunted. How could he convince Eris that he cared? There had always been so much vitriol between them, probably too much to ever bridge that gap. But things had been different lately, and Azriel wanted to try.

“I’m fine, Azriel,” Eris sighed tiredly as he stood up. “It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” Azriel’s heart leapt at the sound of his name on Eris’s lips. He didn’t think he had ever heard Eris call him anything but shadowsinger, or bastard, or brute. He turned to walk away.

“Wait—” Azriel jumped up and reached for Eris’s shoulder, meaning to stop him from leaving again so abruptly, the way he always did. Eris hissed in pain and flinched away from the touch. “Eris, why didn’t you see a healer? Did you even bother to use the salve?” he demanded. Eris glared at him.

“What good would the punishment be if I were permitted to heal so quickly? Beron forbids it, and I obey. Better to do nothing than risk my father’s wrath.”

He bared his teeth at Azriel, as if daring him to mock his blind obedience. Azriel knew what it was like to have a cruel father, but the suffering Eris must have endured all these centuries floored him. He wanted to tear Beron apart slowly, painfully, until he was begging for death. His wings flared and his shadows writhed around him as his temper rose.

“Relax. I don’t want your pity,” Eris repeated the words he’d spoken the other night. His eyes trailed over the wings now on display over Azriel’s shoulders. Azriel snapped them back into his body tightly. Took a deep breath.

“It’s not pity, Eris. I get it, okay? But just…do you have to go back so soon?” Azriel felt his face flush with embarrassment at how pathetic he must sound, practically begging for a chance to talk to Eris about something other than Beron or Spring or Koschei.

Eris hesitated, but then sighed, “Very well,” and sat back down. He eyed Azriel warily.

Azriel fumbled for something to say, and then settled on what he thought was a safe topic. “Would you leave Autumn? If you could?” he asked.

Eris seemed surprised by the question and remained quiet for several seconds, thinking. “No. As much as I detest my father and his court, the people of Autumn deserve to be led by someone who cares for them. I love my home, and my people. I won’t abandon them.” Azriel nodded. He respected Eris’s commitment to his duty as heir. “Have you ever been to the Autumn Court? Lurking around the borders doesn’t count,” Eris added.

Azriel’s stomach twisted. The three times he had been to Autumn in his long life were not pleasant memories. The first was when he had found Mor, naked and brutalized in the forest. The second was when he and Cassian had come to Feyre’s aid, and Eris had been stabbed in the stomach in the process. The other was when he’d been caught spying on Eris and his brothers, attempting to glean how much they knew about Feyre’s powers. Eris seemed aware of where his thoughts had strayed and glanced away guiltily.

“I know you must think me a monster, for not helping Morrigan that day. But perhaps now you understand a little better what living under Beron’s rule, as my wife, would’ve meant for her. She would’ve been another tool for my father to wield against me, nothing more,” Eris admitted in a low voice. “She likely would’ve been dead the second Beron learned of her betrayal.”

It was hard for Azriel to accept the words, even as they rang true. He had agonized over that dreadful day for so long, had hated both Keir and Eris in equal measure, despite knowing it was really Keir who was at fault. And yet Mor had never sought revenge on either of them. He sighed deeply.

“It’s hard to look at you and not see Mor, broken in those woods,” he said, “but I know she would’ve suffered worse had she gone with you. I know that.” He let Eris see the acceptance in his eyes. Eris nodded once in return and looked back out over the hills. They sat in silence for several minutes until Eris finally spoke again.

“Though I would never consider anyone saddled with Cassian as a brother to be lucky…” Eris chuckled as Azriel stiffened at the insult, “You are blessed to have friends, a family, you can trust. I envy you.” Azriel raised his brows, shocked at the admission.

“Surely there are some in the Autumn Court you can call friends?” Azriel’s heart squeezed painfully at the idea of Eris being truly alone.

Eris’s face darkened again. “Perhaps for a time, that was true. Now…I can trust the soldiers in my immediate employ. Some of them might’ve been my friends, under different circumstances. If I remember correctly, you and the brute killed a few of those men several months ago. Have you forgotten their deaths already?” His voice was cold.

Azriel ignored the second dig at Cassian. He had carried the weight of his guilt around since Eris had first found out what they had done to the soldiers they’d encountered in the Bog of Oorid. Rhys had sent Cassian and Nesta to deliver the news. Judging by Cassian’s sullen mood when they returned, he’d suspected Eris had ripped into him for it. They hadn’t stopped to think beyond eliminating the threat. Cassian had yet to inform him that more of his men had met the same fate. Shame sat heavily on his chest.

“I’m sorry we weren’t able to spare them. Truly, Eris. If I could change what happened, I would.” The lick of anger left Eris as quickly as it had come. His shoulders slumped ever so slightly. Several minutes passed before Eris spoke again.

“No,” he said, “I don’t have friends.” His voice was hard, and he wouldn’t meet Azriel’s eyes.

Azriel studied the male beside him—really let himself see Eris as he was, without the masks he so often wore. It was a risk, to reach out a hand. Eris might very well bite it off if he saw it as anything resembling pity. But Azriel decided to take a chance as he asked gently, “Would you like one?”

Eris turned to meet his gaze, surprise, and something like longing, flaring in his amber eyes. He studied Azriel’s face, his open expression, and seemed to war with himself over whether it was a genuine offer or not. And then finally, Eris nodded and gripped Azriel’s outstretched hand firmly. Azriel swore he felt a spark in his fingertips as their skin met.

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Next Chapter

Tag list: @unanswered-stars

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angelfoxx · 9 months

Note

Please go on about sub Dehya 🙏🙏🙏

i’ve been gone too long and nobody else has seen my vision so i’m back to feed u. sub!dehya who meets up with you at the tavern after a hard day of merc’ing and gets something stronger than usual. when you ask her about it, she just laughs and tells you that she pulled something in her back today, no big deal, she just wants something to let her relax and take the edge off.

sub!dehya, who finds herself back at your place, only you’re giggling as you work your hands against the column of her back and she’s biting her lip so hard she can taste blood because if she doesn’t, she’s gonna moan and you’re gonna hear her. and that’s embarrassing. because it won’t be deep and growly, it’ll be whiny and breathless and god, what if you think it’s annoying? ugly?

but oh, the way you’re working her back in your hands, your hands…god, your hands, the way your hands…

sub!dehya who, when a whine slips out between her clenched teeth, goes rigid so fast it pushes your hands away. sub!dehya, who sits up on her elbows and immediately starts apologizing for making noise because i didn’t mean to, that just felt really good—i’m so sorry, i’m so, so sorry.

sub!dehya, who stares at you with wide eyes when you laugh and brush it off with an easy wave. when you tell her it’s not a big deal, and you’re glad you can help—and when you throw a halfhearted tease into the mix (you’re a little sensitive, then?)she flushes fifteen shades darker and visibly short-circuits.

sub!dehya, who, despite your insistence on going back to trying to work out the knots in her back, is stuck on her noise and how you reacted. so sub!dehya, who sits up on her elbows again, much to your dismay, and looks you dead in the eyes and asks, point-blank, if you like her. like, not just as a friend. your hand is still on her back and so, despite her bravery in asking you straight-up, you can feel the way her heart starts beating faster and her breathing gets heavier and oh, the poor girl is shaking.

you aren’t stupid. you know how she feels about you. she’s tall and beefy and draws attention and so her “sneaky” glances at you haven’t been so sneaky and her “discreet” once-overs haven’t been so discreet and obviously the girl is helpful but the way sub!dehya drops everything to help you with anything, be it commissions or chores, and the way she grins at everyone’s praise but beams at yours…oh, she isn’t so good at keeping those feelings invisible.

so sub!dehya, who feels that surge of confidence start to ebb and feels almost sick with anxiety just as you grin and lean forward and holy fucking shit you’re straddling her ass and leaning over her side as you smirk and ask, voice honeyed, why?

sub!dehya, who short-circuits and swallows and aw, all those big muscles can’t protect her now, against you, because you’re inside of her, you’re under her skin and beneath her bones and you’re choking her heart like a vice in your hands. she starts to back off; you’re suddenly too close and you’re laughing, and she can’t take that. she barks out a breathless laugh and she starts to roll onto her back, hands pawing for a hold on the floor as she looks at you and looks away and tells you stop it, don’t do that. and you say do what? i’m not doing anything and she says yes you are, you know you are. stop it.

and sub!dehya, who gets fully on her back now and suddenly has you sitting on her lower stomach, legs splayed casually to either side, hands reaching down around her waist and thumbs skimming across her abs, all of which clench like clockwork under your touch. sub!dehya who holds her breath when you tilt your head and tell her no, really, i’m not doing anything. what do you think i’m doing? and she wants to reply with being mean but she can’t find the words. because for some reason, they come out sounding more like kiss me and then when she tries to correct herself they come out more like please and she can’t get the words right, but suddenly that’s okay, because you’re laughing again but then you’re leaning down and forking a hand through her hair and then you’re…so close, and she’s watching your face get so close it’s blurry, and…

…and sub!dehya, who’s waited for so long, shudders and gasps into your mouth as you kiss her and you taste sun and sand under a fresh layer of cherry lipstick

#genshin smut #genshin x reader #dehya smut #dehya x reader #angelfoxx

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therainywriter · 1 year

Text

A Dangerous Situation (Angst/Fluff)

Pairing: Tsuek'tu (Na'vi) x Reader

You were in awe, so entirely captivated by the beauty of the world around you.

This was your favorite time of the day. When the sky grows dark and a luminescent glow weaves through everything from the ground up. Your eyes were wide with wonder as you walked along the mossy ground, watching it light up with each step.

You could spend hours simply doing that, poking and prodding at the dirt, and still be amazed each and every time it brightens under your finger.

You adjusted your mask and lightly touched the leaf of a plant at your side, curious as to if it'd react at all. Though the flora itself did nothing, a strange animal lit up and spun off the top of it, twirling gracefully above you.

You gasped quietly and looked up in awe until the creature dimmed out of sight.

The gentle trickle of a flowing stream lured you to a shallow river. Bioluminescent plants and swimming fish illuminated the water and you couldn't help but draw closer.

You sat and dipped your feet in the cold water, watching as the small, glowing fish swam between your ankles. A smile pulled at your lips as you watched them, entranced with the curious organisms.

Little did you know, you too were being closely observed. Tsuek'tu had been following you since you'd begun these rather dangerous "nighttime adventures".

He was going to kill you, seeing you as nothing more than another demon here to destroy his home, but he didn't, by Eywa's will. Two atokirina had floated delicately at your side and the grass had pulsed with the steady beat of your heart that first time he saw you.

He couldn't bring himself to stay away after. He was so deeply troubled by you, conflicted with a growing need to be near you and protect your helpless being.

You went against everything he stood for, but he saw you.

A deep rumble made your head perk up and your stomach drop. Many times you'd followed this path and no danger had come to you, so you deemed it safe. Oh, how wrong you'd been.

You slowly scooted to your feet and looked around, a sick feeling settled in your gut. You froze when you saw a slick, black creature emerge from the dark forest.

The quills at the sides of its head shook with its growl as it slowly stalked towards you, ready to pounce at any moment. You stared into its green, predatory eyes, certain this was where you met your end.

This thanator was going to kill you and you couldn't do anything to stop it.

The creature lunged for you- you screamed and turned around, running as fast as you could, making sharp turns in hopes that maybe, just maybe you could escape it.

You could hear it behind you, how closely it followed. Just one wrong move and-

You cried out when something pulled you off your feet, hurling you to its body and moving quickly among the trees. You instinctively gripped onto what felt like shoulders, hiding your face on a warm chest.

"Please don't kill me!" you begged with teary eyes, unsure of what you were tucked so securely against.

A series of sharp, angry words were spoken at your ear, Na'vi words. "Shh, quiet." he scolded silently.

You gulped, a native had saved you. Your people have caused them nothing but pain and destruction, yet he rescued you. You couldn't begin to fathom why.

You did as he told and didn't speak, you simply clung to his body as he ran along the thick vine-like structures below you. The thanator hissed from below and backed off as if it didn't want to bother fighting the Na'vi.

He slowed his pace and eventually loosened his grip on your smaller body. He put you down, keeping his hands on your arms to steady you.

He was beautiful, breathtaking really. His eyes were molten gold and it felt as though they pierced straight through your soul.

His hair was long adorned with beads and braided back from his strong face. Many scars covered his body, some appeared more gnarly than the others and you found yourself wanting to ask what the stories behind them were.

"Are you stupid?" he asked with narrowed eyes, a frown pulling at his lips as your wondering gaze shot up.

Your mouth fell open a bit and you struggled to form a response, offended at both the question and genuine concern in the way he looked at you.

"N-no... no, I'm not stupid." you said with a slight frown, "There have never been- I thought that area was safe."

He furrowed his brows and shook his head, "Skxwang, no land is safe. There is always danger."

He didn't tell you that it was he who rid the forest of any visible threat to you. That he earned many scars ensuring your safety, allowing you to roam about his home wherever you pleased.

You felt embarrassed and your cheeks grew warm, "I'm sorry..." you apologized without thought.

He didn't respond, nor did he make a move to leave. He simply looked at you, his expression stern. "Why did you save me?" you asked curiously, tilting your head slightly as you awaited an answer.

He stood to his full height and looked away for a moment, seemingly thinking before turning back to you. "Nga yawne lo oer, muntxa." he said gently.

His words settled deep within you, they tugged at your heart and warmed you in an unfamiliar way. "I don't understand," you said, following behind him as he passed you and continued along the path.

"You are not meant to," he admitted, glancing behind his shoulder at you. His frown melted into a welcoming, amused smile. The sight warmed you, it felt almost familiar.

"Can you, at least, tell me your name... so I can thank you properly?" you questioned, struggling to keep up with his long strides.

He stopped suddenly and turned to face you, "Tsuek'tu te Reyatan Kah'akt, you may call me Tsuek'tu."

With that said, he pushed you off the thin strip of elevated land, grinning as you screamed and landed in a pile of bushes to break your fall.

You stood up with a small groan, holding back your complaints, and looked around. Your lab wasn't far from where you'd fallen and you felt relieved in knowing you wouldn't get lost trying to find home.

You looked up to where he had been only moments ago, only to find his place empty now, and smiled softly, "Thank you, Tsuek'tu."

The rest of the night you couldn't help but hope you'd see him again, Tsuek'tu, the Na'vi that saved you.

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alwayslovingharry · 1 year

Text

The Stomach Virus

A/N: I was watching the Brits yesterday and I really couldn't have had a better time watching Harry so happy and…drunk. This one-shot has nothing to do with it but it's been in my head for a long time and I've finally managed to finish it, I hope you like it.

PAIRING: Harry Styles x Reader

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

WARNING: Not an english native speaker. It also mentions vomit, sickness and there is a very bad attempt to make a sexy comment.

SUMMARY: Your daughter (Iris) gets sick when Harry is not at home.

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You leave the room as quietly as possible, closing the door, but carrying the baby monitor in your hand. Today you had a hard time getting Iris to sleep, she was very agitated and no lullaby or story seemed to put her to sleep. In the end you had to put on your phone a video you had of her father singing her a song. Harry's voice was what finally got her to fall asleep in your arms.

You walk to your room, leaving the monitor on your bedside table, and start getting ready for bed. Harry texted you an hour ago that he was going to be home very late from his session at the studio, saying that you didn't need to wait up for him as he was going to grab a quick bite to eat with Mitch and Tom (Kid Harpoon).

After you've done your night routine and pulled the duvet over your head, you take one last look at your phone to see if Harry has texted you and let him know you're going to bed, saying goodnight. You leave your phone on silent on the bedside table and turn to Harry's side of the bed, hoping that when he comes in and gets into bed he'll wake you up a bit so you can kiss him goodnight.

You don't know how long you've been asleep when Iris's whimpering wakes you up. Opening your eyes, you see that Harry's side is still empty.

"They've really taken the session seriously today," you think to yourself as you get out of bed and walk towards your daughter's room.

As you open the door to the room, the first thing you notice is the smell of vomit in the room. You walk over to the cot quickly, seeing how Iris seems to have thrown up all over herself.

"Oh, sweetie," you whisper, picking her up in your arms, not caring that the vomit covering her is staining the Harry’s shirt that you're wearing as a pajama.

You begin to rock her gently in your arms, trying to soothe her whimpering, murmuring comforting things against her sweaty curls. A few minutes later you get her to calm down and rest her head on your chest.

"You're burning up, sweetheart," you say after placing one of your hands on her forehead. "Let's get you cleaned up and get something for your fever and vomiting, you must be feeling awful."

At a year and a half old, Iris has been sick only a few times. You and Harry have always been careful of her to not catch anything. But two days ago the nanny you usually leave her with when you're both too busy called the day after she'd been looking after her to say she'd woken up with a stomach virus, so you'd be on the lookout for any symptoms.

That same day Harry ran to a pharmacy to get any baby medicine for those kinds of viruses. You almost didn't remember the virus, until now.

You walk carefully down the stairs, Iris clutching your shirt with her fists, and walk towards the kitchen when you see that you have left the light that is in the bathroom next to the kitchen on. As you go to turn off the light you hear a noise from inside the bathroom, you open the door and what you find surprises you.

Harry is crouched on the toilet, his back to you. You are about to call his name to get his attention when you hear him vomit. Quickly, careful not to disturb Iris in your arms, you crouch down beside him and try to catch the strands of hair falling into his eyes with your hand.

You wait a few seconds until he finishes and drops to one side, leaning against the wall next to the toilet. The sight of him makes your heart shrink a little. His face is shiny with sweat and he has dark circles under his eyes from exhaustion, keeping his eyes closed even when you place your hand on his forehead.

"H, you're burning up."

"I know" he answers in a hoarse voice. "I've been feeling sick all afternoon."

"Why didn't you come home? You look awful."

"I didn't want you to catch it" it's at that moment that he finally opens his eyes to look at you, with your daughter clinging to your t-shirt stained with her vomit.

"Late" you try to smile to lighten the mood." I woke up to her crying and when I went into her room I saw she threw up all over herself, she is running a fever just like you."

"My baby" he pouts "And are you ok?"

"Yes, for the moment I feel fine".

"Good, at least someone is still standing" he smiles and you caress his cheek with your hand, he leans on it.

"Do you want something? Maybe a glass of water?"

"That can be nice, I haven't been able to keep anything down since breakfast, I threw up my lunch." you start to get up but Harry extends his arms towards you." Let me hold our puked up baby while you go get the water."

"I don't know if that's a good idea, she stinks, I wouldn't recommend it" you reply jokingly but Harry doesn't give up. "What if you feel like throwing up again with her in your arms?"

"You're one step away and I can shout...I'm sick and I want a cuddle from my little rainbow, please." he pouts and you sigh before carefully handing him the baby.

"I'll be right back, just yell if you need anything."

You hurry to the kitchen, filling a glass of water for Harry and opening the medicine cabinet. You quickly look at the notes Harry jotted on the medicine boxes so you know how each one works and grab two of the boxes, one for Iris and one for Harry. You also grab the thermometer and with all that you return to the bathroom, finding Harry still sitting on the floor but now with Iris resting her head on his chest.

"She's really tired but I can't get her to sleep," he says as you sit down next to them, putting everything you've brought on the floor, passing him the glass of water that he drinks before putting it down.

"I brought the syrup you bought for her the other day and these boxes of pills we had, one for the fever and one for the stomach ache and vomiting that are for you," you pass him the boxes with each item as you take the thermometer to put it on Iris, "Let's see how high that fever is".

You place the device on her forehead and leave it there until it beeps and you pull it away.

"She has a temperature of 38.3º.”

"We can give her the syrup now and see if it brings her down, try to put her to sleep."

"Yes, that would be best, but we'd better change her clothes first, she threw up in her cot."

"Oh, my little angel." Harry pulls her closer to his chest. "She must be feeling awfully sick."

"Like you must be feeling, H."

"I'm fine, she's the important thing." You instantly place the thermometer on Harry's head, the boy who sold it to you told you it was also used to measure the temperature of adults.

Not more than a minute goes by when the thermometer beeps again, indicating his temperature: 39.6º.

"Harry, this is not good," you comment as you show him the number. "You should go and lie down in bed."

"I'm fine, I just want to look after Iris."

"I know, but you literally just threw up, you're burning up, and honestly, you don't look the best, baby."

"Iris, the day has come when my wife, your mother, doesn't find me so handsome anymore." he jokes as he pretends to cry over your baby's sweaty curls.

"Harry, this is serious."

"I know, but...I didn't exactly come during all the day for this, I don't want to burden you with having to take care of me and Iris at the same time."

Just then, your daughter starts to whimper. For a few weeks now, Iris has not been able to sit still for long when she is in her parents' arms, especially if she is sleepy. Harry has been sitting on the bathroom floor with her in his arms for a while now, so it's no wonder she's tired of sitting still.

"She wants to move, hand me the baby, please." You stand up and Harry hands you Iris, instantly you start rocking her lightly in your arms but being careful not to do it too fast and she might throw up. "Honey, the wedding vows said so, in sickness and in health, I don't mind having to take care of you, it's the deal, if I get sick you take care of me and if you're sick I take care of you."

"But with Iris-"

"With Iris it doesn't matter, I can take care of both of you, H."

He remains silent for a few seconds before answering, he knows you're right even if he doesn't like it.

"You know I love you?"

"I think so, you tell me several times...a day." you reply with a smile. "Come on, let's go upstairs, Iris needs to be changed and you'd better be in bed and not on the bathroom floor."

Harry nods and picks up the meds from the floor and stuffs them into the large front pocket of his sweatshirt. You hold out a hand to help him up but he declines, saying he can get up on his own.

"So you've been sick all day?" you ask as you walk up the stairs, you behind Harry in case he gets dizzy so he doesn't fall.

"No, only after lunch."

"And you weren't planning on telling me anything?"

"I was hoping it would pass, at first I thought I'd been sick from the food, but I remembered Lucy telling us she'd had a 24 hour virus and it all started to add up," he explains as we walk into our room. "I didn't come in earlier in case you guys were okay, so I wouldn't give it to you.

You go to the bathroom in your bedroom and start to take off Iris's clothes, leaving her puke-filled clothes in the laundry basket.

"I'm going to get some spare clothes for her and a clean t-shirt for you, yours are full of puke," Harry says, but you stop him from leaving the bathroom by getting in his way.

"No sir, you're going to hold your little girl while I go get clothes for the three of us, I don't want you to get dizzy in the middle of the hallway, fall and crack your head open, H, you've got a fever of almost 40º, sweetheart."

For a moment it looks like Harry is going to argue with you, but he gives up, you can tell he's tired and the fever isn't helping.

"Hand me Iris," you carefully hand him your baby and he cradles her in his arms. "Hello little sweetie pie, how are you? how are you feeling?"

You leave your daughter and her father in your master bathroom and run to your dressing room. You go to the drawer where Harry keeps his pyjamas and grab a pair of trousers and an old t-shirt that he now wears to bed, you also grab another t-shirt of his to put on yourself and directly swap it for the one you are wearing, leaving the one that is full of vomit in the laundry basket that you also have on the dresser.

You quickly return to Iris's room and grab some clean pyjamas for her as well. Her bed is still stained but you're not worried, Iris will probably sleep in your bed today, you'll clean it up tomorrow.

You go back to the bathroom and find Harry sitting on the toilet. You walk over to him and squat down in front of him, Iris looks like she has finally fallen asleep in his arms.

"Are you all right?" he nods.

"Yep, while you were gone I gave her the medicine and she fell asleep straight away. "You lay the clothes on the floor and place your hand on his forehead, Harry leans against it, closing his eyes.

"Harry."

"Your hand is cool." he murmurs.

"You're burning up, you need to take something for your fever and go to bed."

"I'm fine."

"You're not," careful not to wake her, you take Iris from her arms. "I've brought you some pyjamas to change into, do you want me to help you?"

"I'm fine," she repeats, "just give me a minute."

He closes his eyes and leans further against the back of the toilet, you sigh and grab Iris's pajamas. With your daughter in your arms you go back to your room and try to get her dressed as quickly as you can. As you do so you keep an eye out for any noise coming from the bathroom.

You quickly finish getting Iris into her pyjamas and, as her cot is still dirty, you decide to leave her in your bed but with several cushions on her sides to prevent her from rolling out of bed while she sleeps. You return to the bathroom to find Harry just as you left him.

"Harry, baby," you call to him and he opens his eyes slightly.

"Hi baby, you look beautiful," he replies with a smile and you can't help but think how flattering he is even at times like this.

"I know you're really tired and the fever is getting to you right now, but I need you to change so we can go to bed."

"But honey, I'm great here."

"Tell that to your neck tomorrow..." you murmur." Come on Harry, make an effort for me."

"Come on, okay...but just cuddles today, I'm too tired for other things, I want to do those things but I'm too tired right now." he straightens up as he smirks. "Maybe tomorrow we could call Gemma and see if she can stay with the little lady and we can spend the afternoon alone mummy and daddy...in bed...or anywhere in the house."

"Whatever you want, H, but now we need to go to sleep." you're going to keep this moment of feverish horny Harry in your memory so you can torment him. "Come on, give me your hands."

Harry holds his arms out to you and you take them, with your help you get him to stand up but you immediately see his face turn completely pale.

"Oh, shit." he mutters before dropping to his knees on the floor.

He barely has time to lift the toilet seat when he begins to vomit. As before, you crouch down next to him, with one hand you try to brush his fringe away from his face while with the other you gently caress his back.

"That's it Harry, that's good," you murmur as he vomits.

"This is horrible," he comments once he stops retching. "How could you put up with this every day when you were pregnant?

"It's not pleasant, but having you by my side most of the time helped."

As before, when he finishes, he sits on the floor of your bathroom.

"When you're ready, you try to get up again, okay?" he nods.

After a few minutes, Harry gets up again and this time he doesn't feel like throwing up. He takes off the hoodie and t-shirt he was wearing and you quickly slip on his pyjama top, then do the same with his trousers.

While he finishes putting on his pyjamas you take the two boxes of pills that are still in the pocket of his hoodie, pulling out of each box one and passing both pills to Harry.

"Take it," you say and he takes them from your hand.

You fill a glass next to the sink and fill it with water to give it to him as well. He takes the pills and you internally pray that taking the water won't make him vomit again.

" Shall we go to bed? I just want to sleep," he murmurs and you nod, but before you can turn towards the bathroom door he hugs you. "Thank you for taking care of me.

"H, I love you, taking care of you is something I want to do, you're never a burden, my love."

"I love you." You pull apart and he pouts. "Kissy?"

"You're sick, you want to pass it to me?"

"No no, I don't want to, I'm sorry." but he's so cute that you can't resist and you stand on tiptoe so you can kiss him softly and slowly.

Instantly he runs one of his hands around your waist, pulling you closer to him, and you can't help but smile against his lips. Soon after, he stops kissing you, but he doesn't take his hand off your waist.

"Let's go to bed," he says, but without pulling away from you. "I'm tired and I want to sleep, I want to cuddle."

"Come on," you reply, leaving a kiss on his cheek, "but I wanted to ask you something first."

"Yeah, sure."

"While you were sick in the studio, were Tom and Mitch there?"

"Yes, why?"

"And they were looking after you?"

"Yeah, and if I'm honest with you, they looked like nurses instead of musicians, more than once they wanted to call you or call the doctor but I told them not to." Harry laughs wearily and you smile. "Also, watching Mitch with a mop and a bucket of water in the middle of the studio cleaning up my vomit was something I never thought I'd see.

"You have to tell me more... but tomorrow, we have to go to sleep now."

"Yes, please."

You both walk to your bed, Iris is still asleep just as you left her in the middle. Neither of you move her, she is so peaceful, and you simply climb into bed each on one side. Once inside and covered with the duvet you turn to face each other, with Iris in the middle.

"I love you," you whisper and Harry nods slightly.

It doesn't take Harry more than a couple of minutes to fall asleep but you stay awake a little longer watching the love of your life and your daughter sleep peacefully. You might wake up tomorrow with the same virus as them from watching over them, but you would do it again and again for them.

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Thanks for reading and I hope you liked it, please leave any comments or leave a like it if you enjoyed it.

See you soon :)

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry #harry styles one shot #harry styles soft fanfic #styles #harry styles fanfiction #music #one direction #harries #harry edward styles

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ohnomytummy · 5 months

Note

Can i be the 🧃 anon? I feel like *hic* I'm going to be sick *urp*...

What would you do with my tummy?

(Kinky answer please?)

Aw honey…*feels your forehead while rubbing your belly softly.* Do you think you came down with something? You’re looking a little—more than a little—green in your cheeks.

Poor baby, I can hear your tummy flip-flop from across the room. *I lead you to the couch, letting you lie down enough to curl your knees into your tummy. You burp and hic the whole way and I hear you gag softly as you relax.* Uh-oh…I’ll grab a bucket.

As I get a bucket from the kitchen, I hear you groan so loudly, I know your arms are wrapped tightly around your middle. You suddenly call to me, “I’m gonnna thro—“

I run into the room just as drool starts to run down your chin and nearly toss the bin into your hands. Before I can do anything else, you heave that first wave of sickly stomach contents into the previously clean bin. I swiftly move behind you, cradling your belly and moving your hair from your face. “It’s okay…” You’re whimpering now as a second vomit rush crashes over you “ssshhh, that’s it. Just let it up, honey. You’re doing so well.”

Despite your ill form, I notice that the hand not wrapped tightly around the bucket is inching further and further up my thigh. Courteous as always, I let you finish emptying, waiting for your big soft eyes to gleam up at mine in a hopeful signal before taking those fingers and slipping them gently into my mouth. You watch me suck lightly, you moan wildly before whispering “oh god it’s happening again,” turning back towards the bucket, your skin still on my tongue. I can feel just how hard your body is being wracked by sick heaves through my hold on your arm.

With only one hand to hold the bucket, you almost drop the bucket, but thankfully your tummy acts as a nice support and you’re able to keep it in your lap as you spend the next hour trying to focus on puking…and on my mouth, which now suckles bruises onto your neck and shoulders. I can barely tell why you’re moaning, really. Is it me…or your belly ache….

When you’re finally finished heaving your guts up (and the bucket is basically spilling over the top), you look at me and wink, “you’re welcome.”

#🧃#anon #hehe #I don’t know if this is kinky enough???#some days are easier than others lol #come back and I’ll probably get kinkier ;)

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mirkwoodmunson · 2 years

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eddie munson x reader fic idea - eddie and reader are classmates and one day they both end up in the nurse's office sick.

this one goes out to all the hurty tummies out there ✊😔 u got this boo

eddie munson x gn!reader

tw: cursing, feeling sick

you wonder what it takes to be listened to by someone, anyone, just for a moment. you’re shooed off to school with a pale complexion and weak knees; the adults at school perceive these symptoms with a wrinkled nose and then usher you along quickly so as not to spend too long in your presence. friends comment that ‘man, you look really awful,’ but by this point you’re starting to wonder if you’re just feeling gross to feel gross, maybe it really is in your head. you say your stomach hurts and someone responds that that’s normal in the morning. you’re bleary and sensitive in the fluorescent lights and they joke that you must be hungover or something. you hide your face in your hands and you’re snapped to attention like a dog.

it’s not until your favorite teacher watches you slide into their class and nearly miss your seat as you sit down that someone starts to really notice, their arm linking with yours as they excuse themself for a moment with you to lead you down to the nurse’s office. you could cry just from the gesture, finally someone sees, someone realizes, but the attention is short-lived as they quickly drop you off, letting the nurse know what’s going on. they wish you well before going back to the classroom.

the nurse has a phone receiver tucked into her shoulder, simply gesturing you with fingers to go and lie down in the back, she’ll be with you shortly.

you trudge behind the curtain, into the darkness of the rest area with a soft sigh, finding a bed nearest the end against the wall and carefully crawling on, settling yourself easily onto your side and curling in, a heavier sigh leaving you along with the tension and effort of holding yourself up. you finally start to relax a little, eyelids getting heavy, maybe you just needed a nap…

but when you’re just at the brink of teetering into sleep, a familiar voice sounds from the bed next to yours. normally it’s echoing off the walls of the cafeteria, making lame jokes in history class, but this time it’s soft, grumbled, tired and weak. you hadn’t even realized anyone else was in here.

“fellow soldier down, eh? what brings you in here this fine morn’?”

you lift your eyelids halfway, peering into the darkness before you. you’d be annoyed that you were disturbed just before passing out, but something about hearing eddie munson in the same state as you had you smiling. it was kind of comforting.

“stomach’s fucked… don’t think i’ll last much longer.”

he sucks in a wince, “you’ve earned your rest, then. fucky stomach — nothing to take lightly.”

“what about you?”

“migraine.”

now it’s your turn to wince dramatically, “good lord, man… you poor soul.”

“you’re too kind. god help us both.”

“god help us both,” you affirm with grim flair, but now both of you are stifling snorted laughter.

after a few moments, eddie asks, “it’s, uhh… ‘y/n,’ right?”

you smile and nod even though he can’t see it, but he hears the brightness in your voice, “that’s me. and you’re the munster kid.”

eddie groans but it’s humorous and makes you giggle.

“i thought people stopped callin’ me that in middle school!”

you’re both giggling into your pillows.

“hate to break it to you, munster, but people definitely still call you that. the munsters rock, though; i think it’s fitting.”

“think so?”

“yeah! in-in a good way, y’know?”

eddie’s silent all of a sudden and you’re worried you’ve just overstepped something, suddenly concerned the munster thing really did bother him, but then he’s snorting again.

“no-one thinks the munsters rock!”

“wh- they do!! i used to watch reruns every sunday morning with my mom. watch it, now, munster, or that name’s gonna stick for a loooong time.”

“stahp callin’ me that!”

you start softly humming the theme song, and eddie can’t help the cackle, face buried into his pillow but it’s loud and jovial. you can’t see he winces as his head throbs but damn if it hadn’t been a nice break to laugh with someone.

a very loud and very sudden ‘shhh!!’ shuts you both up, however, and the exasperated nurse yanks the curtain closed again after her warning to quiet down.

eddie snorts first, breaking the silence, followed by you shushing him, and it isn’t long till you’re both hiding giggles again — not even talking, just deeply enjoying the presence of the other.

your stomach still aches at the end of the day, but for different reasons now, a smile glued to you for the same ones.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x gn!y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #mine

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blametheeditor · 3 months

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You’re amazing and everything you put out is a masterpiece

Oh my fruit thank you so much!! mcfries123, I want you to know I absolutely adore every time you comment on a reblog! It makes me squeal with joy whenever I see them!

If you don't mind, I made you this as a thank you. Because you are wonderful and never fail to make my day whenever you drop in. Have an amazing rest of your day!

How To Care For Your Sick Scott

Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of a fever, working while sick. Fear of punishment.

His day off has long been overdue

______________________________

Scott feels like absolute shit.

He didn’t think anything was wrong at first. He woke up to his alarm clock at 6am, well aware he’d be getting a call or text from someone, either saying something happened during the night shift and only wanted to report it so they had plenty of time to get home and avoid the well deserved wrath, or Afton informing him of his tasks that need to get done for the day.

The point is, he woke up to press the snooze button. Closed his eyes with a long sigh as he waited for the all too familiar ding of a message appearing on his phone.

And he did hear one. Except it was for one that came through at noon because he apparently fell back asleep right as the one from Afton was sent at 6:01am. And as soon as he reached for his phone after spotting the time on his clock, that was when he realized he felt awful. Like a giant had their hand wrapped around him with the want to squeeze him to death awful.

It took him a little too long to realize he’s sick. But the thing is, Scott doesn’t get sick. Afton made sure of that considering he wouldn’t want his overglorified secretary being unable to work. Being sick essentially means getting a pass from nigh-impossible tasks and experiments. God, wouldn’t that be a shame.

But it is. One look at the messages says there’s too much to do to be sick. This doesn’t excuse him from what needs to be done today, it’s just made it ten times harder.

Scott takes a deep breath as the panic rises. Sucks in a gasp when his stomach protests from just sitting up, wanting to throw something at the wall at the realization he’d have to stick to water today. How can this day get any better.

He makes an effort to focus on his phone screen. Blinks in confusion at why David was asking where he was. Groans when it finally clicks as he reads Afton’s early morning text stating he was supposed to be at Fazbear Entertainment Center at 11am.

At least that was the only thing the sadistic bastard wanted. He’ll let David know he’ll be there in half an hour. But the text from Jeremy says BalloonBoy’s out of commission, though that might just have to wait. And he is not brave enough to ask how that happened. Anything from Jeremy is supposed to be a report from Mike one of the originals is in bad shape and nothing else.

Scott rubs his face in frustration, despising the fog over his mind. He can work with it, though. He just needs to get dressed and head toward David’s restaurant. That’s all he needs to do for now.

He actually manages to succeed leaving his house in five minutes. The only problem is it sapped all of his energy. And to top it off his entire body shakes from chills that forced him to put on a long sleeve and pants for the first time in years, and yet it doesn’t nothing to chase away how cold he feels.

It takes all of Scott’s willpower to continue walking along the street. He would much rather crawl back under the covers and fall asleep, but he can’t. It’s either fighting through this, or letting Afton do whatever the hell he wants as soon as the human is back at 100% by asking for a sick day.

He’s fine, though. Made it to David’s restaurant without any issues.

Stares at the door for a solid five minutes because no way in hell is he able to time darting after footsteps in his current state. He’ll end up underfoot or caught by the closing door. Why has David still not created a human friendly entrance? Why did Scott ever approve Fritz getting transferred here if risking their lives is the only way to get inside?

“Mr. Cawthon?”

He almost forgets that’s his last name, quickly looking up to see the towering form of Lefty of all animatronics holding the door open.

“Yes?”

The black bear looks as if he wants to say something before thinking better of it. “Mr. Harrison informed us you would be visiting. Would you mind some assistance coming inside?”

Scott shakes his head as he quickly walks into the building. He tries to keep an eye on Lefty to ensure the door is held until he’s completely out of the way, but the only thing he can focus on is the screaming. He’s been long since used to it, but today it just seems like there’s a hundred children rather than just thirty.

It’s too much. The overwhelming noises making his head feel like it’s going to split. The chills wracking his body leaving his legs trembling so much that if a giant steps too close, he’ll fall to the floor and be unable to stand back up. His stomach is having a war between feeling nauseous, and being too cold for it.

“Hey, Scott!”

He whirls around to see Fritz darting through the door Lefty still holds open, feeling nothing but relief having the redhead here. Until he remembers it’s a weekday. “Why are you not at school?”

He’s given fearful wide eyes before they both jump at Lefty’s laughter. “You would get caught by Scott on the day you skip school.”

“I didn’t skip!” Fritz exclaims. “It was a half day I swear!”

Scott scowls. “If I find out David’s been encouraging skipping classes for work.”

“He’s not, honestly! He even has my schedule for school, so if I did ditch he’d send me back.”

Scott would like to trust that David would be that responsible, but he’s not fully certain. At least Fritz doesn’t look guilty carrying his backpack and not wearing a uniform. But without the distraction of concern, he’s reminded that he still feels terrible and should not attempt in walking through a restaurant only meant for giants. It’s a miracle no one’s stepped on him so far.

“You okay, Scott?” Fritz asks. “You look a little pale.”

He doesn’t know what compels him to not admit he’s most likely running a fever. Maybe it’s the fear it’ll get back to Afton. Or that if he says it out loud, his body will give up and he’ll be forced to take a sick day. Possibly even the fact he doesn’t want Fritz to worry about him, not when the kid already has so much on his plate.

“I’m fine,” Scott waves. Manages to turn toward the hallway the leads to David’s office without making his head spin, numbly putting one foot in front of the other as he makes his way toward the wall.

He didn’t expect Fritz to follow, but he’s more than grateful when the teenager joins him. “Did Mr. Harrison summon you?”

“Afton,” the eldest guard grumbles. He was going to continue the thought, but he can’t help getting distracted every time a child runs past them. “How has school been?”

Fritz perks up at the question. “There’s a robotics competition coming up! I think I’m going to sign up and-”

Scott honestly listens to every word that’s said. He misses a few pieces, and there’s a moment when he brain is so foggy he nearly forgot why they were walking through the restaurant in the first place, but he’s able to catch the majority. Got reminded how much he’s missed Fritz working at Freddy Fazbear’s. At least David has kept his word in ensuring the kid has been kept safe and mostly happy.

But it feels like between one blink and the next, and they finally arrive at David’s office door. Thank God it’s cracked open or else Scott would have just turned right back around.

“Scott’s here, Mr. Harrison!” Fritz calls up when they’re not immediately noticed, especially as the eldest guard opts to make his way over to the stairs built into the giant’s desk without uttering a word.

David pauses his typing to look down at them, Scott earning an eyeroll before a suspicious look is fixed on Fritz. “Half day?”

“Scott already grilled me,” the redhead confirms.

That seems to satisfy the business man who then sends a glare toward Scott. “Any particular reason why you’re about two hours late?”

“I might be Afton’s lapdog, but I can’t always show up at the exact time he tells me to.”

He waits for David to air out his grievances. Most likely state he lost precious time and therefore money. If Scott is Afton’s lapdog then he should always be on time, rain or shine, no excuses. He exists only to do what the company owner asks him to, nothing more.

But it doesn’t happen, the giant content on finishing what he’s currently working on as he waits for Scott to make it onto the desk. And truth be told, he’s proud he did manage to make it to the top, but he feels like he’s going to collapse at any second. Keeps a white knuckled grip on the railing to ensure he doesn’t crumple onto the ground.

He’s fine, he just needs a minute to catch his breath.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Scott?” Fritz murmurs.

“Fine,” is rasped out, hoping saying it out loud will make it true. But then a water bottle is offered, and Scott all but attempts to drown himself with it. “Thank you.”

“I don’t think that’s going to be enough,” David rumbles, making the eldest guard jump by how close the giant is, not having noticed him leaning down. “You look like shit.”

“I’m fine, I just need a moment.”

“I could see you shaking when you were climbing up the stairs. Even I can tell you look pale.”

Scott clenches his fists at the scrutiny, not wanting a lecture from David of all people. The moment he opens his mouth, however, a fingerprint appears in front of his face. He’s so confused by how it got there he doesn’t even realize it’s pressed against his forehead. And even when he does, there’s no movement to get away. Not with the wave of warmth that washes over him.

He even takes a few steps forward after it retreats. “Scott you’re burning up. You’re almost too hot for me to tolerate.”

“Have you taken any medicine?” Fritz begins, looking almost upset as he looks up at the eldest guard. “You haven’t drank any coffee today, have you?”

"I don’t need you to act like my mother,” Scott can’t help but snap. Angry with the idea of not only David voicing his opinion, but a teenager saying what’s best. “I know my limits and when coffee’s a bad idea. Just let me do my job.”

With that, he stomps toward David’s computer.

Well, he tried to. He didn’t realize just how much his body was shaking. Even worse than before. Meaning he doesn’t even get two steps in before his knees buckle, leaving him to fall forward to faceplant onto the desk’s hard surface.

For the first time in a long time, Scott is grateful when fingers catch him instead. “Alright, that’s enough out of you.”

That’s when he’s carefully scooped up, vertigo making his stomach twist as he’s lifted up. A part of him says he’s supposed to be doing everything in his power to escape the hand holding him, to scream, kick, bite, plead. But for once there’s a louder part that’s wanting to do nothing more than go limp, sighing in relief as he’s warmed to his core.

“You are definitely sick,” David grumbles. “I’m going to call Mutated Grape and-”

“NO!” Scott screams as he sits up so quickly his vision goes dark for a moment. Fails to notice the giant looking shocked from the outburst, too focused on making sure he’s listened to. “Don’t call Vince or Afton! I-I can get everything done! I just, I just need ten minutes, that’s it. Please, I can still work I promise I’ll get it all done!”

Because he can he just needs to rest for ten minutes. Ten minutes, and he’ll be able to do everything Afton needs.

David clears his throat before lowering his voice. “I won’t call them. Can I call James, though?”

Scott stares at nothing as he thinks the request over, trying to remember if the man would have to report him to Afton. “Only James?”

“I’ll put him on speaker phone,” the giant offers.

The eldest guard slowly nods, his shoulders slumping in relief when David lowers his hand so the phone screen is visible after it’s set down next to Fritz on the desk. Tenses when James’ name is tapped on, watching to make sure no extra buttons are pressed except to be put on speaker.

“Working, David.”

“We’ve got a problem.”

James hesitates. “What kind of problem?”

“Scott’s so sick he’s letting me hold him and panicked when I suggested telling William kind of problem.”

“He’s what?”

“Mr. Harrison’s telling the truth,” Fritz pipes up. “It sounds like a fever, but he refuses to take the day off. He even walked all the way to the restaurant.”

Scott wants to say something. To tell James he’s fine. To ask the doctor to tell the others he just needs ten minutes and then he’ll be good to go.

“Scott, how do you feel?”

“I’m fine,” he quickly replies. “I can still work.”

“What needs to get done today?” James asks.

“BalloonBoy’s broken. And I needed to help David with something.” Something that he could be helping with right now after going through all the trouble to get here.

“Okay, I have an idea,” the doctor begins. “I will text Eggs and see if when he can fix BalloonBoy today. You take some medicine, drink some water, and rest for a little bit. I’m sure David has other things he needs to get done while you’re asleep. Then when you wake up, you can help him with whatever he needs. What do you think?”

Scott thinks the plan over. Glances at David’s computer to see the unfinished report that was being worked on. He can also trust Eggs to fix whatever’s broken. Just to make sure that’s all that needs to be done, he takes out his phone to carefully reread all of his texts.

“Okay.”

“David, do you have fever medicine for humans on hand, or do you need me to give you the dosage he can take from giants?”

“I’ve got human medicine,” David says.

“Perfect. You can keep holding him if that’s what he prefers, but if he seems to get warmer have a blanket nearby to put him on. My shift doesn’t end for another few hours, but don’t hesitate to call if anything happens.”

“Thank you, James,” Fritz waves.

“I’ll keep you updated.” David then ends the call before locking eyes with Scott. “I’ll get you water and medicine. Do you intend on sleeping in my hand, or would you prefer a blanket?”

He can already feel the chills returning at the thought of leaving the giant’s warmth. “Hand.”

“Never thought I’d see the day. Fritz, don’t move, I’ll be right back.”

Scott groans as his stomach protests from David standing up, burying down further into the warmth in the hopes it’ll make the pain go away. It subsides, though he doesn’t enjoy how much he’s jostled with every footstep taken. Growls when he hears the screams of children and only stopping when they disappear completely with the sound of a door closing.

It’s only then does he realize David’s laughing, sitting up in order to scowl up at the business man. “What are you laughing at?”

“You, dumbass. Never did I think you’d growl at children.”

“They’re loud,” Scott defends as he lifts his hands up in a ‘give me’ motion, unimpressed with how long it takes for the pills and water to be surrendered.

“You should get sick more often,” David muses.

That earns him a full glare as the two pills are quickly swallowed down along with the entire cup of water. But just as he curls up to close his eyes, he meets hazel eyes watching him with interest. “Don’t let me sleep too long.”

“Get some rest, Scott.”

He’s out like a light, trusting the giant will keep him safe while he sleeps.

“How is he?”

The familiar rumbling voice slowly pulls him back toward consciousness. Confused on why he’d want to wake up. He’s warm, comfortable. He forgot why, but he’s confident no one will try to grab him.

“He’s been asleep this entire time.”

“I was talking about Scott.”

“Fritz has only been out for an hour.”

Scott blinks when he not only hears David’s voice, but it sends tremors through his very core as well. Wants to tell the business man to quiet down. It feels like he’s been asleep for days, and yet it hasn’t been long enough.

“Eggs already got BalloonBoy fixed. What did you need help with?”

“William wants the restaurants to start using a new program for financials. I’ve messed around with it, and it’s been pretty intuitive. By the sound of it, either Scott wasn’t given the full story and we figure it out together, or it’s something he’s worked with before and already knows the ins and outs.”

“When are you expected to send the next report?”

“A week from now, we’ve got plenty of time.”

After everything goes silent, Scott finally realizes the second voice as James’ as well as comprehending he’s currently staring at fingers that belong to a giant because he wanted to be held. Why did he want to be held?

“Has his temperature gone up?”

“I can’t tell anymore. I’ve held him for so long my hand might as well have a first degree burn.”

“I think you’re being dramatic.”

“Why don’t you check his temperature doctor.”

Scott slowly sits up as he feels David’s hand move, perking up at the sight of James kneeling down in order to offer a smile. “Hello, hello.”

“Hey, boss. How do you feel?”

“You two woke me up,” the eldest guard growls as he rubs his eyes.

“We’ll let you get back to your nap, old man,” James grins. “Do you mind if I take over for David, though?”

In the back of his mind, Scott knows he shouldn’t want to be held. Knows he should ask to be put down instead. Wants above all just to get back to work because Afton guaranteed has or will send another text with more instructions.

His head ends up nodding. Going limp against James’ fingers as they gently scoop him up. Snags the closest one to hug as vertigo yet again makes his stomach twist with pain.

“Good luck with that, by the way,” is said in a way he can’t help but think there’s a smirk on David’s face. “I wasn’t allowed to stand up for anything or else he’d start thrashing. And don’t think for a second you can put him down. He has a vice grip not even Fritz could coax him out of.”

“And you tell me this after he’s already grabbed my finger?”

“That was sleeping Scott. I’m sure he’s more reasonable when he’s awake.”

Scott looks up to watch James’ contemplative expression. Closes his eyes as a finger approaches his face, all too familiar with the rudimentary way of checking for a temperature, even if this one is on a much larger scale.

“Looks like you have the chills. Can we get more medicine in you before you fall back asleep?”

...he shouldn’t go back to sleep. He’ll take the medicine, but he hasn’t checked his phone in who knows how long. He knows he’s still not completely recovered, and he’s dreading the moment when he has to leave the giant’s warmth, but the fog over his mind has lessened. He’s already wasted an entire day, he needs to get to work before Afton finds out something’s wrong.

“Scott,” James begins. “I don’t have any issues pinning you down in order to make you rest.”

That has the eldest guard bristling. “You wouldn’t dare-”

“For your own health,” the doctor murmurs. “I would. We can take it from here.”

That’s when Scott starts to panic, shoving the finger away in order to properly sit up. “No, you don’t understand! Afton will find out, and if any of you help me, he’ll add you to the list! I have to do it or else-!”

“Scott,” James softly interrupts. “You’re sick, and yet you were still able to get done what was needed. BalloonBoy’s fixed. David spent an entire day at his desk working. I don’t think William will be angry with the ‘how’.”

Then they don’t know Afton, because he will use this against Scott.

And yet...

“Everything’s done?”

“Everything’s done.”

Scott hesitates before digging his phone out of his pocket. Feels his heart skip a beat when he sees new message until he realizes none are from Afton. And everything from the guards are wishes to get well. Promises they’ll be coming to check on him at some point.

It looks like everything is done.

He flops back down, uncaring about where James is taking him or what the giant is doing. Obediently accepts two more pills and a cup of water. Curls up once more as sleep pulls him under.

The next time he wakes up is due to feeling overheated, thoroughly upset his fever decided to make things complicated when he was perfectly content.

“You okay Phone Guy?”

Scott’s eyes open in order to see Mike watching him from directly above. Gives a glare when he realizes what happened. “You’re too warm, Michael.”

The giant only offers a smirk. “Sorry. You were burning the shit out of Grave Digger’s hand, so it was my goddamn turn.”

“I can take him.”

The second voice causes Scott to sit up as fast as possible, panic welling up inside him when he sees Vincent standing a few feet away. “Vince, I-I was just-”

“It’s okay, Scotty,” the purple man smiles. “Will’s not upset.”

Truthfully, he wants to call bullshit on it. But it looks like the damage is already done. In more ways than one considering he’s apparently been passed around for everyone to hold. One glance toward his left and he spots Eggs attempting to throw Jeremy into a glass of water with Scott down for the count and Mike currently distracted.

That’s when he lifts his arms toward his best friend. Grabs the nearest finger as he’s gently picked up. Can’t help but watch what was happening when he feels Vincent moving, sighing in relief when it was just to sit down at the table next to Mike.

He slowly melts back down into the warmth that doesn’t make him feel suffocated. Turns into a puddle as a finger carefully rubs his back.

“Go to sleep, Scotty.”

Scott will be forcing every single one of them to promise to never speak of this again after scouring their phones to ensure there’s no blackmail. After his fever breaks.

#sincerely I love the comments you give!#they just make my entire day better!#so thank you #for taking time out of your day to let me know you enjoy my stories #and especially taking the time to send over this ask #I hope you enjoy this thank you!#and don't ever hesitate to send over a request if you ever want to I would be honored to write it!#but you have a wonderful day #hope your week was a good one #and I'll see you later!!#FNAF bois #g/t #giant #tiny #ask #BTE writing #How To Care For Your Sick Scott #cw #content warning

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ryan-says-hi · 1 year

Note

do you have any ideo for how long your OTNWS mini-sequel will be? also can you drop a teaser?

Hey! Thanks for the ask (and your interest lmao). It'll be roughly 40k! And sure, here you go :)

[CW for animal death/semi-graphic gore]

-----

Hiccup slowly slid his hand along the rabbit as if checking for injuries. Despite the awful twisting in Jack’s stomach, he turned his head toward Hiccup, a drumming need in him to know what Hiccup was thinking, feeling, anything about his body language that would clue Jack in. All he found was concentration in the careful lines of Hiccup’s outstretched arm, the gentle pinch of his downturned mouth.

Hiccup caught his eye and, easing up on his frown, nodded his chin forward. He had tilted the rabbit on its side and was gesturing towards its head, which Jack could see was twisted oddly now that it wasn’t curled into itself. “It looks like something snapped its neck,” Hiccup explained, and although his words were matter of fact, his tone was gentle, like he knew what was going on in Jack’s head. Sometimes, Jack had half a mind to ask if that had been one of the gifts he’d been given by Manny. “Cold alone couldn’t have done that.”

Jack swallowed thickly, waving at the obvious frost patterns on its fur. “I could have iced it, or the ground,” he began, even as the words tasted acidic in his mouth. “Maybe it was running and slammed into a tree, or something.”

Hiccup only shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense,” he said. “It wouldn’t have been curled up like that if it’d died from impact. It’d be sprawled on its side or slumped against the base of whatever tree it hit.”

Leave it to Hiccup to point out the obvious.

Still, Jack’s stomach twisted unpleasantly.

When he didn’t say anything, Hiccup reached out to take Jack’s hand—the one he’d been motioning with, he realized belatedly, and then left to point vaguely at his mounting fear. Hiccup brought it to his own chest, running their callouses together absentmindedly. Jack knew he’d worked for years in the forgery for his village, and even longer on his own inventions. Knowing this didn’t stop his wonder at Hiccup’s hands, clearly wrought with labor, and how they fit so oddly against his own callouses, the ones he’d built from his staff.

“You didn’t kill it,” Hiccup said firmly, a decisiveness in his voice that left no room for argument. Jack caught Hiccup’s eye, and Hiccup gave his hand a squeeze. “Your magic is good, Jack. This is just . . .”

“A weird accident?” Jack finished uneasily, the theory sitting wrongly in his mouth. Something crossed Hiccup's face, like he was uncomfortable with the idea as well, even as he nodded.

“Yeah. Something like that,” Hiccup said unconvincingly.

“Oh, wonderful. Glad to know Bunny’s offspring are just as accident-prone as he is,” Jack joked dryly. The situation wasn’t really something to joke about, but he’d mostly said it to hear Hiccup snort, or watch him roll his eyes. Anything to ease the tension that had settled between them.

Hiccup let out an entire chuckle, and Jack considered his inappropriateness worthwhile.

It was quiet for a long moment, with the only break from Jack’s increasingly concerned train of thought being Hiccup's steady thumb trailing over his knuckles. “Jamie’s worried,” Hiccup said at last, quietly. “Said he was scared you’d gotten sick again.”

Jack let out a sigh. “I promised to hang out with him before our dinner with Joyce to prove I was alright,” he mumbled, not exactly in the mood for fun at the moment. As Jack Frost, he didn’t really have much of a choice.

He turned back towards Hiccup with what he hoped was a convincing smile, but with how well his boyfriend knew him, the odds were slim to none on that front. “You fly on ahead of me. I’ll be right behind you.”

Hiccup frowned. “I can stay with you,” he offered, sliding his legs out from under himself to sit proper, wincing as his prosthetic scraped at the frost coating the ground and nearly shot out from underneath him. Fondness surged through Jack at the sight, at Hiccup trying to take care of him, emotion making his throat tight. It took him a moment to gather his words and then another to ensure that when he spoke, it wouldn’t come out as a mangled mess.

“No, seriously. I’m just gonna take another minute or so, and then I’ll catch up, I swear,” Jack promised. Maybe he’d take a little more than a minute, but he already felt more stable, and he knew he could go to Hiccup for help, even if the words got caught in his throat when he tried to express it.

Hiccup didn’t look convinced in the slightest, but he nodded, slowly, like it pained him to do so. Then, after a moment of hesitation, he tugged Jack towards him by the hand, kissing him softly. It didn’t solve any of Jack’s problems, but Gods, if it didn’t do momentary wonders for his unease.

“I’m here if you need me,” Hiccup said as he pulled away, giving Jack’s hand a final squeeze before he got to his feet. Jack watched him go, giving Toothless a little wave when the dragon didn’t immediately fly off at Hiccup’s go-ahead, his head still cocked in worry towards Jack.

Finally, though, they did leave, and Jack closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Despite the gnawing at his chest, he opened his eyes and reached forward, petting the rabbit more firmly this time, as if to conquer his fear through touch. Like Hiccup had taught him. The rabbit was still cold and lifeless under his hand, but the feeling of its well-kept fur did put Jack’s mind somewhat at ease. At least it had lived a good life.

Pulling his hand away, he got to his feet. He twirled his staff twice, ensuring he felt stable enough to fly. The clearing was already beginning to feel warmer just from exposure to the sun, and without Jack’s emotions lingering in his magic, the frost had begun to melt. Nothing else could be hurt because of him here, intentional or otherwise.

With a conviction to go spread some good, Jack went to kick off. Just as his toes lifted off the ground, there was shuffling behind him, and when Jack turned around—

—the rabbit was gone.

-----

I have no clue what else I can share that isn't borderline spoilers, but I swear I'm close to finishing this! It's just - nerves? Perfectionism? - that's kept me from actually posting the first few completed parts.

#hijack #rotg #httyd #writing #of the northmost winds and skies #otnwas #my friend and I have been calling this o2nwas lmao #no actual title yet so I might just stick with that #ryanwriting

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harryfeatgaga · 2 years

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thinking about dating harry for a while and you're so madly in love with each other but then things get really hard, with him on tour and you staying behind for school it's just awful and all the stuff you see in the media daily is just too much so you tell him you need a break. and you're both devastated and crying through the whole conversation but it's just truly too much for you and ofc he respects your wishes and he'll do anything for you even if it's the exact opposite of what he wants 😔 then a few months later he's home and you haven't spoken at all, knowing it would just be too painful since you still love him so much but you're not sure if he feels the same 😔 then your girlfriends make you go out with them to try and cheer you up and you all get veeeery drunk, and after someone puts you in a cab and you get home you're calling harry without a second thought 😔 you're literally sitting on the floor in your kitchen, your makeup a mess and your hair falling out of the fancy updo but none of that seems to matter because you just miss his voice 😔

when he gets the call he's very surprised, he hasnt heard from you since you broke things off and he's been trying so hard not to look at your socials (even though he has checked a few times, even though you never seem to post any more) but it's been miserable for him too, so for a second he considers not answering because he can't go through getting his heart broken again 😔then he starts to sorry that maybe something is wrong, it is almost 2 am afterall, so he picks up 😔 he hears you you take a little breath and you say "hello?" and his heart drops when he realizes how much he's missed you 😔 he says "hi-" and he has to bite his tongue to keep from calling you love or any other pet name, and finally he just settles on your name. you sigh and tip your head back on the cabinet and say "I've missed your voice" and he's already feeling choked up when he says "me too" 😔 it's quiet for a minute before you say "I ended my chemistry class with an A" and he's not sure where that came from but he's starting to get the hint that maybe you're not quite sober so he just decides to go with it, you can hear the smile in his voice when he says "that's great, I'm so proud of you" and you can't help but smile, you say "thanks... you just put a lot of hours into helping me study so i figured you deserve to know" and his chin is literally wobbling he's so close to tears 😔

he tries so hard to keep his voice steady when he says "I appreciate that" and you hum softly, then you're both quiet again before he says "where are you? are you alright?" and you let out a big sigh before you say "I'm sitting on my kitchen floor eating grapes" and he can't help but snort out a laugh, he glances over at his alarm clock and says "at 2 in the morning?" and you shrug even though he can't see you, you say "girls need snacks" and he laughs for real at that 😔 but you know what he was really asking so you say "to answer your other question no I'm actually not alright" and a tear slips down Harry's cheek, he brushes it away quickly before he says "no?" and you say "no... i miss you, harry, I miss you so much it makes my chest hurt, and it makes me feel sick to my stomach and it keeps me up at night and I'm miserable all the time because I miss you so much and it's my own fault I don't have you anymore" and his eyes are wide, his heart rate is going up with each word you say and he sits up in bed, hugging his pillow to his chest he says "you do?" and he sounds almost in disbelief, you say "of course I do... you're all i think about, all the time, and it's ruining my life because I can't have you" and he takes a shaky breath before he says "why can't you have me?" and your voice is smaller than he's ever heard before when you say "because you don't love me anymore?" and he literally has to hold back a sob 😔

he says "I do, I love you so much... you're all i think about too, all the time, and all I want is- is you, and I know that's not fair, I know it's really shitty timing, and I know it was hell for you when we were together and I know i'm selfish for wanting you but I can't help it because i just do, I want you so bad it makes my chest hurt" and your brain is just trying to process everything he just said, everything feels very tense and you're a bit stressed so you say "you stole my line... that chest hurting thing, I said that first" and he can't help but laugh again, he says "well it was a very poetic line, i apologize" and then you're both quiet for a moment, then you say "harry?" and right away he goes "hm?" and you pause for a second before you say "will you come over?" and he's already getting out of bed 😌

you're saying "i know it's late and if you're in bed you don't have to i just- I miss you, and I want to see you so bad but if it's too much-" but he clicks his tongue and says "I'm already heading out the door, I'll be there in 10" and you haven't felt happier since before you broke up 😌 you say "will you stay on the phone with me?" and he scoffs "of course I will, I'm not leaving my girl again" and you're quiet for a second before you say softly "I'm still your girl?" and he absolutely melts, he pauses with one hand on his car door and he says "of course you are, you've always been my girl and you always will be"😔 on his short drive to your place neither of you speak much, you can hear the radio playing quietly through the phone but that's about it. when he pulls up to your apartment he lets you know and you say "I'm in number-" and he says "I know which apartment you are love, how come you think I forgot all about you while I was gone?" and you say "I don't... I'm just worried that maybe you did" and he sighs softly before he says "I could never forget anything about you pretty girl" and before you can even respond there's a knock at your door 🥹 you're clumsily jumping up from your spot on the floor and running to open it, and as soon as you see him you drop your phone and launch yourself into his arms 😔 he walks you inside and shuts the door behind you and you're crying already, you manage to say against his chest "I missed you so much, please never leave me again i just want to stay with you okay?" and he's nodding, he has his face in your hair just inhaling your scent that he's missed so much and he says "i promise, I'm gonna stay with you forever and ever" 😔 after a good long hug when you both feel so much better he pulls away to look at you, you're saying "no no don't look at me I look horrible right now" and he just smiles softly, he says "you don't, you could never look horrible" and he leads you to the bathroom to help take your makeup off 😔

he lifts you to sit on the counter and gets the wipes out, holding your chin between his fingers to tilt your head so he doesn't miss any 😔 you reach up to hold his face in your hands because you've missed that so much, and now that you're so close you can tell that his eyes look a little red and puffy 😔you say "were you crying? are you okay?" and he gives you a little smile, he tosses the used wipe and says "i am more than okay now that I'm with you again" and he lifts you up again, you wrap your legs around his waist so he can bring you to bed 😔 he kisses all over your face while he walks and nearly runs into a few walls but he manages 😔 he drops you on the bed and then says "what pajamas tonight?" and you don't say anything but he sees you eyeing the hoodie he's wearing 😌 he rolls his eyes playfully and says "I'm back here one day and you're already robbing me blind" but he's taking it off as he speaks 😌 he hands it over to you and reaches to help unzip your dress and pull it off, then you slip the hoodie on and you're all good 😌 he climbs in next to you and you get settled against him, his arms tuck around you and you both relax right away, and it's like no time was lost at all because you were just made for each other 😔

HOLY SHIT.............OH MY GOD THIS IS LIKE A WHOLE ASS FIC RIGHT HERE WHAT THE FUCK!?!??!?!!? IM OBSESSED AND IM SO SAD THIS WA SSO CUTE IM GOING TO SOBBBBJNBFHUJNHB OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDD 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

#harry concept

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