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writing-whump · 3 months

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Part 2 of the Seline and Matt fic with Isiah coming home to find the two of them asleep in the same bed?

Have this little ficlet as denouement from yesterday's fic then. Thanks for the request, I'm flattered you were curious.😊💙✨️

Isaiah came home to a surprisingly quite and dark apartment.

Normally Matthew's booming voice carried from the living room and he could always track Seline by the number of rooms with the light switched on. She tended to leave more of them on, even when alone.

He wondered if it was to ward loneliness, creating a feeling of presence and warmth.

Today it was suspiciously not so.

He tiptoed around the kitchen, mildly offended no one ate the lasagna he prepared yesterday so his roommates would have stuff to eat after coming home exhausted from classes.

Peeking into his room, he found Matthew's bed just unruly and empty as in the morning.

Huh.

Too curious to even change into his home clothes, he kept exploring in the darkness, climbing up the steps. They creaked enough in the silence he was sure he would not be able to hunt down anyone, if he wanted to. Not that he wanted to.

He had to jump away a little at a admittedly very badly smelling spilled water in the hall right next to the staircase. Who spilled water and didn't clean it after? The wooden floor would swell up from it...

The door to Seline's room was slightly open, so he creeped in.

Matthew lied on Seline's side of the bed, wrapped around her like she was his human plushie, snoring slightly. There was a basin at the side of the bed, which Isaiah took as an answer for the peculiar arrangement.

Seline's bright blue eyes gleamed in the twilight light, meeting his.

"What happened?" Isaiah mouthed soudlessly, coming closer.

The back of his hand went to Matthew's forehead, but there was no fever. Matthew was the most cuddly when he had a fever.

"Concussion," Seline mouthed back, combing her hair through Matthew's hair, her expression the softest thing, making Isaiah's heart melt.

"How long have you been trapped?" Isaiah said with a slight chuckle.

"Very long," Seline said with a smile.

She didn't look too concerned or uncomfortable with her predicitiment. He noticed she watched his reaction, eyes narrowed to slits as she patted Matthew's head, but Isaiah didn't know why. Matthew was his just as he was hers.

He was very very glad, in fact, when the two got along. There was nothing more torturous for him as when the two were arguing.

Though he had yet to have a major argument with Seline, so that was still up to discussion.

Isaiah leaned over to plant a kiss on top of Seline's hair, then went to open the window. The air was way too stale.

Satisfied with being back in the picture, he proceeded to change out of his suit into something more comfortable, then gathered supplies to clean up the puke puddle in the hall. The wood was getting slightly swolled already, so he threw an old towel over to soak up the residual liquid before disinfecting it.

Washing his hands thoroughly and cleaning everything up, he dared return to the room. What was he supposed to do with the rest of it alone, right? It was only natural.

Seline watched him curiously, pressed even closer to Matthew because of the cold air from the open windows.

Isaiah closed them, brought a glass of water from the bathroom for Sel and one more blanket from Seline's closet - he was getting familiar with where she kept what and was very excited about it - before climbing in the bed himself.

Seline turned to her back, sandwiched between them. Matthew was pressed against her side, but she wiggled her legs towards Isaiah, wrapping both around one of his.

Now very satisfied, with warmth and butterflies spreading all over him, Isaiah got his airpods out, gently inserting one into Seline's ear, taking the other for himself.

"Wanna hear the war update?"

Seline nodded, squinting at his phone screen. They followed a podcaster commenting on the Ukraine war. She listened to them alone before, since Ukraine was on on Slovakia's borders.

Isaiah knew how worried her family was about the war. If Putin won, he would not stop at Ukraine, they thought, but continue to usurp the rest of the former Sowjet block countries, including Slovakia and Czech Republic as it was before the Fall of the Iron Wall.

Not that Isaiah thought it was less relevant for the rest of Europe. Why would Putin stop anywhere, once he was that far? Austria didn't have to be saved by its neutrality.

And appeasement politic never worked with Hitler either, did it.

Isaiah snaked a hand under Seline's neck. He wanted to be attuned to her movements in the dark, to feel when she would jolt or shudder. If she was going to listen to this, better with him than alone.

He clicked play on his phone as Seline turned her head towards him, face pressing against his shoulder, taking slow measured breaths. Isaiah took her hand in his.

They stayed like that, huddled in the dark as the podcaster reported about destroyed cities, drone attacks and munition, taking turns at squeezing the other's hand for comfort.

#whump #mentions of emeto #sickfic #comfort #war tw #mentions of war #my writing #werewolf wip #it gets a litttle heavy at the end #but hey it's a contemporary world they can have contemporary european problems #Matt #Seline

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cemeterything · 3 months

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#🐉#this one is really good out of context #emeto mention

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cinnamoneve · 4 months

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𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐞.

heliophile \ ˈhēlēəˌfīl \ (n.) - one attracted to, or adapted to sunlight.

❆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gojo satoru x fem!reader ❆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: satoru was warm, like the sun. it only took a big social event (and for him to drink a bit) for you to truly see him shine ❆ 𝐰𝐜: 2.3k ❆ 𝐚/𝐧: ough i love him i've been sitting on this for a WHILE !! as always, reblogs n comments are much appreciated <;3 ❆ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: alcohol consumption ( everyone give a big hand to satoru for drinking !!!! ) and then he throws up from alcohol consumption !!! (emeto warning)

satoru gojo was an easy man.

he had a laundry list of things he loved more than life. his students, his pretty little girlfriend; there wasn’t a boundary that existed that his persistent and ever-forward personality couldn’t break into.

satoru was like the sun, in a way. things just…came alive around him. the chaos he brought with him everywhere he went was so common that it was almost comforting. where bad things happened, satoru fixed them. and wherever he was, the good just followed. his rays of light and entropy reached out and warmed everything it touched. all beings seemed to turn to bask in his very being.

for things he hated? well, there was a list for that too. some more prominent than others, but your favorite thing he seemed to hate was the least offensive of its competition: alcohol.

in the years you two have been together, you couldn’t recall the last time satoru was seen with a drink in his hand, let alone remember if you’d ever seen it. he didn’t mind when other people were drinking, of course (and loved to indulge you when you got a bit too drunk), but never let himself take a sip.

you weren’t sure if it was because of a bad experience in his youth, something in his family, or just a personal experience; it was never right to bring it up.

but you didn’t mind. and tonight was a night worth celebrating, after all.

you and satoru got dressed up to go out with some friends. something about a big mission finally being over. you’ve never seen anyone party as hard as sorcerers do after they finish their job. all you and satoru could do was attend and catch up with colleagues. you’d have a drink, he’d have a mocktail, and all would flow like it normally would.

satoru fiddled with the button on his shirt as you two walked into the venue.

some club that was picked out by someone whose name you forgot–maybe they were from kyoto? you couldn’t really remember. it wasn’t the type of scene you frequented, but a change of pace was very much welcomed.

your boyfriend’s jittery hands caught your eye as you glanced over at him. his other hand kept you close to his body, but just enough so that you could look up at his face.

“feelin’ okay, baby?”

he looks at you a little delayed, nodding before his eyes meet yours to put your mind at ease.

“we don’t have to stay too long, if you don’t wanna hang around,”

“that’s not it,” he starts, and he barely opens his mouth before he’s called over by some colleagues. you continue to look up at him as he greets them with a sweet smile, rubbing your back to soothe your worries.

mmm, not like you believed him, but you did trust him; so you followed him along, walking just ahead of him as his hand guided you towards his colleagues.

and the colleagues just kept on coming, even inside the club. you’d think satoru worked with, or even saved, every single person in the entire country with the amount of people coming up to you at this party. and he had a story for each and every one of them too–his memory about them all was crazy. it almost made you fall in love with him just a little bit more. he’s interacted with hundreds–no, thousands of people for work. but he always seemed to remember those he had a different kind of impact on.

it made your head spin a bit. sure, he liked to be grandiose about his adventures and his work, but seeing people back him up about it in the flesh seemed like a big gag that you weren’t let in on. you believed him, but was he really that great? he saved that many people, exorcized how many curses?

admiration poured out for satoru quicker than he could extend out a glass to hold it all. it was heartwarming to see. part of you wished people would treat him like this always, in secret hopes he’d be gentler on himself on the bad days. or maybe they already did, and it just wasn’t enough.

it was hard to hear everyone speaking when you were thinking so loud. you caught yourself staring at your boyfriend for longer than you think was normal.

he was the sun. the burning, beautiful, sustaining sun. people turned to him instinctively like sunflowers do when they want to flourish. like the sun, it felt like satoru was bound to detonate at any point–by the time you knew, it’d be over already. fleeting, warm, quick, yet merciless.

do the people basking in his warmth know that it’s the warmth of a man who lit himself on fire?

mankind could never land on the sun. you’d burn up before you could even truly appreciate it. maybe these people were appreciating him from a safe distance. close enough, but never close enough to scald themselves or be swallowed up in the atmosphere.

if he was the sun, you weren’t sure what that makes you.

a close planet orbiting nearby? an asteroid? maybe you’re a lone astronaut, untethered in the vastness of it all. with the sun loving you from afar, as it usually does.

you weren’t sure if you liked the answer, or the implication of it all. it was time for a drink.

when satoru had a spare moment to breathe, you pulled him away to head to the bar and get a drink. you hugged him a little bit tighter than usual, opting to hold onto his arm instead of just his hand.

“you okay there?” he asked.

you nodded, smiling at him and rubbing his arm. you’d thought yourself into a worry, is all, there was no use in getting him mixed up in it as well.

“i’m okay! just meeting a lot of people tonight,”

“sorry, i’m sure it’s overwhelming, sweetie,”

“i don’t mind it. i like hearing all of your stories from work,”

you reach the bar and he leans on it, looking at you fondly.

“really~? you like hearing all these stories about your big, bad boyfriend saving the day, huh?”

you roll your eyes at him playfully, trying to suppress a smile.

“mmm, it’s gone. you ruined it,”

he cocks his head smiling, drawing a little nonsensical pattern on your arm while he admires you.

maybe you couldn’t be the sun. but you could get as close as you wanted to it. he accepted you into his atmosphere with open arms.

“don’t pretend you don’t love it, baby,”

you look away as the bartender approaches, smiling gently.

“something like that,”

you place your order, chatting with the bartender about another patron.

unbeknownst to you, satoru had been approached by a woman he’d worked with many years ago. she greeted him with a warm hug, touch lingering on him a little too long, eyes traveling too south before talking only about what she’s been up to.

by the time you’d gone back to him with your drink, satoru was holding a small shot glass in hand.

“i’ve been treated to a shot! lucky me,” he said.

you shift your eyes between him and the woman across from him, unsure what was going on. before you could decide, satoru was rubbing your lip with a lemon wedge.

you couldn’t even wipe the juice dribbling from your chin before watching your boyfriend lick salt off the back of his hand and slam back his drink.

and then he turned to you, grabbing your face to kiss you incredibly obnoxiously in front of this woman.

it felt like he’d taken all the air out of your lungs. he was electric.

and he just took a shot, apparently.

he turns back to the woman, who was still watching—half in disgust.

“you said it was salt, tequila, and lemon for the order, right?” he asked. his hand moved back down to its rightful position hovering just above the shelf of your butt.

the poor woman could barely speak. it’d become obvious that she’d bought the shot for him, hoping that a mere tequila shot would have him head over heels for her. all she did was nod, a little bit perplexed and a lot a bit embarrassed.

“thanks for the shot!”

satoru turned away from the defeated woman, guiding you back towards the bartender on the other end of the counter.

“feelin’ dangerous tonight, huh?”

“i’m not gonna turn down anything free,”

you tap your finger on the counter, mulling it over.

dramatically pouting, you smile up at him, “you hate alcohol though,”

he smiles down at you, motioning the bartender over.

“might as well go all in, yeah?”

he orders ‘whatever you’re having,’ opening a tab while taking a sip and wincing at the taste of it. he’s trying, at least, but his dramatics were pulling out all the stops tonight.

satoru made his way through the party, socializing with nearly every group of people he could find. it was almost as if being alone would kill him.

you know how sharks continue moving so that they can stay alive? satoru had to have evolved from them. he couldn’t sit still.

that was the first indication that he’d had too much to drink. his aversion to alcohol left your oh-so-strong boyfriend with the worst alcohol tolerance you’ve ever seen.

one tequila shot with a drink and a half—he’s already thinking hard about every word that comes out of his mouth.

his hand never left the small of your back. first moving you like a personal shield in front of him when you arrived, he’s now shifted to using you as a point of balance.

the night flew by when you turned your attention solely on him. you knew he’d be okay, ultimately, and you cut him off before he did anything embarrassing. but seeing him so inebriated was an unfortunate turn of character.

“ready to go?” you asked. you and satoru were one of the few left, as everyone else had decided to continue the night at a different club.

you’d figured satoru wouldn’t mind if you cut the night a little bit short.

“mhm~”

satoru spoke slowly, eyes closed as he shifted his body weight more onto you. you couldn’t recall how long you’d been sitting in this booth, but you figured you’d fare better back at your apartment.

you helped him get up, saying goodbye to the remaining sorcerers as you walked the both of you out to the car.

satoru ran to open your door for you, as he usually did. just a little bit slower, and definitely more intentional this time.

“baby, you’re too drunk to drive,” you laughed, “c’mon, get in,”

he looked at the open car door, not hearing a word you just said to him.

once it’s processed, he closes that door and speed walks to the other side of the car, opening the driver’s side and motioning you to get in.

all you can do is smile.

you kiss him on his hand as you pull it off the door.

“thank you, love”

he looks at you dumbly, waiting for something.

“can i have a kiss?”

he didn’t have to ask for permission for that, and you weren’t really sure why he was now. but you were cold, tired, and ready to go to sleep.

“i’ll give you one if you get in the car and buckle up,”

you’d barely finished the sentence before satoru was running to his side, getting in and buckling up. by the time you’d caught up to him and sat in your own seat, he was leaning over the center console waiting for his prize.

so stupid, you thought. so cute.

leaning in, you kissed him as if he was made of glass. as he deserved to be kissed. and loved. gently, kindly, softly. he was easy to love.

he desperately tried to make the kiss deeper, gently moaning into your mouth and speeding up his pace in hopes that you’d catch on.

you did. you’re a smart one.

but he didn’t have to know that.

you let him kiss you as long as he wanted. indulging every swipe of his tongue, answering all of his unsung moans with one of your own, smiling into his mouth so he could taste how happy he made you.

maybe drunk satoru was good.

you pulled away.

“we have to go home, babe,”

satoru hummed in disapproval, dramatically turning out towards the window in defiance.

“why don’t you love me?”

a little giggle escaped you at his pouting. always so dramatic.

“sorry, you’re right,” you giggled. you reached for his hand as you began to drive, “i’ll be more considerate in the future,”

“please and thank you,”

his actions weren’t matching his words. while he threw one of his appropriately nicknamed “toru tantrums,” his fingers found their way to your thigh as he took hold for an ounce of affection.

you’re convinced he’d explode if he wasn’t touching you for one second.

the rest of the drive home was uneventful. every five minutes or so, satoru would say “pull over, i’m gonna throw up,” only to follow up with “false alarm!”

it was hard to believe him after the third time.

luckily, you both got home in one piece—with no vomit anywhere in sight. you’d consider that a win.

you help satoru out of the car, his eyes barely open as the two of you walk back into your apartment.

he quickly turned away from you, throwing up in a bush in the garden outside your building. you rubbed his back gently, trying to soothe him without getting sick yourself.

it passed, as it always does. but he looks pale, drained, and just a little bit pathetic.

“i’m just glad it didn’t happen in the car,” he says flatly.

rather than kicking him while he’s down, you opted for being doting and sweet.

“feelin’ better now, sweetie?”

satoru swallows hard, leaning his weight onto you as he struggles to keep his eyes open.

“i’m never drinking again,”

at least he’s honest, you think, you had to give him that.

“let’s get to bed, satoru,” you laugh, “i’ll take care of you, ‘kay?”

all content © cinnamoneve 2024. do not repost, modify, steal, or copy without permission.

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sickficideas · 8 months

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"You just threw up the water you had ten seconds after drinking it, but you're still gonna keep saying you're fine, huh?"

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getwonderhoyd · 11 months

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#project sekai #proseka #prsk #niigo len #niigo #25ji len #25ji nightcord de #lee posts #nightcord at 25:00 #kagamine len #len kagamine #vocaloid #proseka memes #project sekai memes #vocaloid meme #emeto tw #emeto mention

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nymdraws · 1 year

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learning csp with some scribbles of These Guys

#disco elysium #kim kitsuragi #harry du bois #kimharry #sure. why not.#fan #2023 #sorry about one of these just being the same kim a million times i was testing brushes.#ALSO 'the pockets open funny' is a reference to one of my fav disco oneshots #neon orange/ruddy brown by eusuchia on ao3!!! its a quick read ~4k words and it changed my brain chemistry forever lmao #oh also i guess i should tag #emeto tw #maybe? jic #and #alcohol mention

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soft-for-yoongi · 6 months

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5 times BTS thought Jungkook was throwing up + the one time he actually is

‐-------------------‐------‐‐----------------

Sick: Jungkook

Caretaker: ot7, each have their individual sections

Tw: gagging, mentions of nausea, vom**, puking, dizziness

Word count: 1,469

Okay... here me out it's a little different from what I usually do, but please let me know what you think!! 🙏 oh and which member was your favourite?? 🤩

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Namjoon

Jungkook looks adorable, Namjoon thinks as he snaps a photo of the youngest— asleep on the couch in his studio. It wasn't uncommon for the members to relax there, but Jungkook definitely does it the most. Just as Namjoon sends the photo to their group chat, Jungkook wakes with a groan. He stretches before a hand covers his mouth.

Namjoon looks at him, Jungkook's eyes are half lidded and hazy, hand on his month. Wait. Namjoon grabs the trash can under his desk, quickly holding it in front of Jungkook. The youngest takes the bin with a furrowed brow, then erupts with a sneeze, "HIHSH'Ew, ugh. Sorry." Jungkook mumbles, still sleepy. "What's this for?" He adds, lifting the bin slightly.

Namjoon looks at him blankly, "Oh, thank goodness, you're okay. I thought you were about to vomit," Namjoon laughs, half-heartedly because it has happened before, and you can never be too prepared. "Jeeze, hyung, you worry too much." Jungkook giggles.

Seokjin

Jin was peacefully cooking in the kitchen, making one of their go-to's, but still a favourite. The occasional member swings by sometimes to check in and help for a bit, which is why he wasn't surprised when the youngest walked into the kitchen. He opens the fridge and takes a water, taking a few swigs. A drop accidentally goes down the wrong hole, making Jungkook splutter and cough. He throws himself over the sink, coughing and spitting water into the drain.

Seokjin abandons the veggies he was cutting and starts rubbing Jungkook's back, "you okay, Jungkook-ah?" Seokjin said, concerned for the younger. Jungkook nodded and swallowed, recovering from his clumsy drinking. He exhaled, "I'm okay. I swallowed funny and it went down the wrong way." Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, Jin still rubbing his spine.

"Christ, you scared me half to death! I thought you were being sick or something." Seokjin admits, dramatically holding his heart. Jungkook chuckled, realising the misunderstanding, "sorry, hyung. I'm fine, I promise." Jungkook replies, earning a sigh and fluffing of his hair from Seokjin.

Hoseok

Put Jungkook with his Hoseokie-hyung and there's bound to be chaos. They were originally practising together, but somehow, it turned into a pirouette competition? Hoseok went first, and he'd say he was pretty graceful, remembering to point his toes as he spun around. Jungkook's high-pitched laugh rang in the air as he held his phone up, recording Hoseok. "Aish!" He exclaimed, "wow, that was hard." Hoseok stopped spinning, after doing approximately 4 turns, again, pretty impressive if you ask him.

"Jungkookie, your turn!" Hoseok beams, quickly flipping out his phone and recording as Jungkook takes the spotlight. He spins in quick succession, one, two, three, four, five?? Jungkook laughs at the very Hoseok-like noises as he films. Jungkook slows down and ends up victorious with 7 turns. Woah, he's kinda dizzy though. Jungkook pants, hand on his knee and arm to his middle.

"Wahhh, Jungkookie!... Hey, you feeling okay?" Hoseok ends the video, jogging to the youngest. He places a hand on his back, heart dropping. "Yeah- just dizzy." Jungkook laughs, straightening up to look at his hyung. "Are you about to puke?" Hoseok blurts, eyes starting to scan for a rubbish bin. "What? No, gosh. I'm fine Hobi-hyung," Jungkook breaks into high-pitched laughter, soon joined by the elder.

Taehyung

Taehyung has an arm wrapped around Jungkook's shoulder, both sharing a blanket as they stare intently at the tv, playing an action movie. Taehyung knew the youngest loved them, but couldn't get as immersed as he could. Thus why when Jungkook made sniffly noises and put a hand over his mouth to stop from sobbing, Taehyung was very confused. And very worried. He had been paying attention and nothing too dramatically sad was happening (he thinks), so what's wrong with Jungkook???

"Jungkookie?" Taehyung holds Jungkook's cheek, body turned to face him. Jungkook looks towards his lap, a little embarrassed, his hand the only thing keeping him from audibly sobbing. "Are you getting sick or something? Your cheeks are pink." Taehyung worries, using his phone light to illuminate Jungkook's face. He sees the shaky fingers cupped over his mouth and assumes the worst. "Do you feel nauseous?" The singer questions.

Jungkook bubbles with a laugh, tears still coming out of his eyes. "I-I'm okay, Taehyungie-hyung." Jungkook uses his sleeve to wipe his eyes, blinking back a couple more and taking some deep breaths. "How are you not sad? Iron man died." Jungkook pouts, maybe Taehyung wasn't paying as much attention as he thought. "I was more worried about you. It looked like you were gonna be sick!" Taehyung frets, pulling the youngest into a hug to calm both himself and Jungkook.

Yoongi

Jungkook sqints at the toilet. It's shiny and looking better already! He'd noticed some dust and decided he'd do a good deed and clean the toilet. Pretty normal thing to do, if you ask Jungkook. Though, Yoongi didn't see it that way when he first walked into the bathroom. The bathroom was half lit and he'd taken his contacts out already. He scans the youngest, who's squated in front of the toilet.

"Kook?" Yoongi says, suddenly next to him and rubbing his back. He's on his toes, ready to grab some pepto or another member. The youngest turns around to look at the older, a confused look on his face. "Do you want some water?" Yoongi offers, wiping his eyes tiredly. Jungkook is still confused as to what his hyung is doing.

"I'm okay, hyung," Jungkook replies. He is enjoying having his back rubbed though, he will admit. "Have you been sick?" Yoongi asks, although the toilet does look oddly clean. "What? Hyung, I'm cleaning the toilet, not throwing up," Jungkook breaks into laughter, clapping his hands. "Oh my bad, good work Kook-ah." Yoongi smiles, "you had me worried."

Jimin

Jimin looks over at the youngest from his position on the couch. Jungkook's face is puffy and he's got two pieces of toast in front of him. Plain toast. No butter, no jam, nothing. They've only got a recording session later this evening, so usually Jungkook works himself quite an impressive appetite even though it's only breakfast. He watches the youngest cringe with each bite, looking like he's zoning out.

He turns off his phone to pay more attention to Jungkook. He sees the younger's face twinge in discomfort or pain—he can't quite tell—and then move a hand under the table to place on his belly. Gotcha. Jimin's mood drops and he walks over to Jungkook, placing a hand on his back. Jungkook doesn't even resist the touch, not bothering to put up a facade as he pushes his plate away, resting his forehead on the table.

"Not feeling the best?" Jimin asks, "I feel sick." Jungkook replies and the dancer hums sympathetically. Jimin slides in the seat next to him, concern apparent on his face. "Kook, do you know what's upsetting you?" Jimin frowns worriedly. "I don't know, hyung... my stomach hurts." Jungkook says and then registers that these are all his tell-tale signs he's about to throw up. He moans at the realisation.

"Jungkook do you need me to bring the bin over?" Jimin stills his hand on Jungkook's back, able to hear the younger's stomach throwing a fit from where he's sitting. Jungkook lifts his head enough to give Jimin a nod. With haste, Jimin grabs the trash can from in the kitchen and brings it back. Jungkook takes the bin and lets it rest in his lap, staring at the meager contents and feeling his stomach churn unhappily.

Jimin can see goosebumps on Jungkook's arms and wishes relief for him so badly. Seeing the youngest pale and quiet, makes Jimin want to switch places with him. The weight of anticipation is soon ended when Jungkook coughs lightly and then breaks out into gags, bringing the bin right up to his face. "Deep breaths, Kook." Jimin says, worry etched onto his face.

Jungkook can only hiccup and release strained breaths, not quite what Jimin wants right now. "Hyung— I'm g-gonna throw up—" Jungkook whimpers, back arching into a 'c' as he retches productively. Jimin pats his back nervously, eyeing the bathroom door, considering relocating the sick maknae.

Gags fill Jungkook's ears and the smell of his previous toast is enough to make him go green in the face. Jungkook tries to focus on the hand on his back and the massaging of his neck but his stomach clearly has other plans. The organ squeezes harshly at every move Jungkook makes, forcing bill up his throat. "I hate this, hyung..." Jungkook mumbles, hugging the bin close.

"Yeah, being sick is no fun, it's a good thing you're healthy." Jimin kisses the singer's hair, "most of the time."

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whumpshaped · 6 months

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if that’s okay i‘d love to get a continuation to this, where the caretaker maybe realises something is wrong? and they can have a talk with the whumpee about it? or some comfort and recovery for the whumpee?

because tumblr won’t let me link stuff on anon, here’s the link: https://www.tumblr.com/whumpshaped/734392975865626624/hello-would-you-write-a-conditionated-whumpee-in

tw perceived noncon drugging, emeto mention, past trauma, past noncon drugging, conditioned response

Breakfast was uncomfortable and awkward. Caretaker kept trying to say something, only to close their mouth again without a word.

“Are you alright?” they eventually asked, and Whumpee stiffly nodded. “I… I thought I heard you throw up yesterday.”

“That’s odd,” they said curtly.

“You… didn’t?”

“No.”

Caretaker kept poking at their scrambled eggs, biting their lower lip like they were trying to punish themself for speaking up in the first place. And yet, they couldn’t help it.

“If the food is bad…”

“It’s not.”

Whumpee took a big bite of their breakfast sandwich to prove it, and Caretaker sighed.

“Look, I– I get that it can be embarrassing… I just wanna know what’s going on. I can help you if you’re sick.”

“I’m fine.”

Caretaker averted their eyes, going back to pushing pieces of egg around. Whumpee couldn’t stand how troubled and heartbroken they looked.

“Did you put something in my food yesterday?” they blurted out. “At dinner? Or was it the drink?”

“Huh?” Caretaker’s eyes snapped up to meet theirs, full of confusion and concern. “So it was the food. Was the taste off? Mine tasted fine, I didn’t realise–”

“I said, did you put something in my food yesterday?” they repeated, more emphatic this time. Demanding, almost. They had a special distaste for people dancing around their questions ever since they’d met Whumper.

“No,” Caretaker said immediately, still baffled. “I’d never. Do you think I’d do that?”

“Well, I don’t know. I didn’t think so, but then you gave me that, that phrase, and then left me alone in the dark–”

“What phrase?”

“You know the phrase!”

Caretaker shook their head slightly, so utterly puzzled that for the first time, Whumpee considered the possibility that they didn’t actually know. “I can avoid it next time if you tell me,” they offered.

“It’s ‘good night’!” Well. That sounded dumber than intended. “When, when it’s said– said like that, I– Whumper kept saying that! They kept saying it whenever they knew I was about to pass out! They kept saying it after drugging me! They’d have these pills, and they’d–”

“Hey, hey, Whumpee…” Caretaker cut in, making them realise they were getting carried away. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna say it again. And I’m definitely not putting anything in your food.”

Whumpee sniffled, trying to avoid a full-blown breakdown as much as possible. “Great,” they forced out. Caretaker gave them a tentative smile.

“No other concerns?” Whumpee shook their head, quickly going back to their breakfast so they wouldn’t have to keep looking at Caretaker. “Alright, then.”

Truthfully… their sandwich was looking a lot safer and tastier now than they’d gotten that off their chest.

#asks #whump #whump drabble #perceived noncon drugging #emeto mention #past trauma #past noncon drugging #conditioned response #recovery fic #comfort

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