#(that also just might mean from inside the general's bed cough)

[rainymoodlet]

these eyes? all the better to see you with, my dear.

these fangs? all the better to taste you with, my dear.

[babyleostuff]

Hi! could you do svt taking caring of you when you're sick?

sick with seventeen | OT13

☾₊ ⊹ currently playing: do it like that by txt

𓆩♡𓆪 CHOI SEUNGCHEOL 

turns into a nurse that’s going to take care of you 24/7 

even though he is a bit clueless, will do everything you ask him to - you need an extra blanket? He’s got ten. You need more water? He’s going to get five more bottles. You want to watch a movie that he absolutely hates? He’s already waiting on the sofa 

believes that cuddles can treat any sickness, so be prepared to be smothered with even more love than usual 

he also gets even sulkier when you’re sick because his baby is feeling unwell and he can’t do anything about it :(((

if he’s at work, he texts you every two hours to make sure you don't need anything (also for his peace of mind because he's oversensitive when you're sick and is generally very worried about you)

𓆩♡𓆪 YOON JEONGHAN 

very gentle and loving, never teases you when you’re sick (he doesn’t even want to, he’s just focused on getting you healthy again) 

always has meds and a glass of water ready and he’s probably the one to remind you to take your pills 

gets SO annoyed with you, if you get out of bed and go about your day as if you didn’t almost die from a cough fit five minutes ago 

will run his fingers through your hair 90% of the time that you’re sick 

he takes advantage of the situation and the fact that you should be resting to do a movie marathon. His real motive is not really the movies, but the fact that he can cuddle you all night, claiming that since you're lying together anyway why not cuddle 

𓆩♡𓆪  HONG JOSHUA 

ah yes, now the husband material, it’s almost as if he was born ready for this 

has EVERYTHING you need - all kinds of medications, blankets, water, food, his comforting arms, and kisses 

When you wake up with a fever in the morning, he is out of bed in a second looking for anything that would make you feel better 

he gives you a lot of space, knowing that you need your time to rest, but is always there in case you need him, whether he stays in your bedroom working on his laptop, or doing something in the room next door 

never complains when you’re annoyed or angry when sick, he puts up with your every mood swing, knowing that you must feel like shit because of your illness

𓆩♡𓆪  WEN JUNHUI 

when you’re sick, you probably spend 95% of that time resting on Jun’s lap

is a bit clueless, he doesn’t really know what to do or how to help you but will do his best to make you feel better 

spends the afternoon on your sofa after you’ve finally fallen asleep, searching for how to get rid of a sore throat and a fever 

does all your chores for you, and doesn’t complain even once (generally, he'd do everything for you, just so you didn’t have to get up)

would not admit this to you, but is actually quite worried when you’re sick, even when it’s a slight fever or a seasonal flu

𓆩♡𓆪  KWON SOONYOUNG 

gets so pouty, because what do you mean his baby is sick and has to stay at home for the next week :(((

one of the members that I’m 100% sure is as clueless as a person can be - you’d have to tell him everything, what meds he needs to buy, how big of a dose you need to take, what makes your throat less sore, etc. 

would not hesitate to hug, cuddle and kiss you, ignoring your warnings that he might get sick as well 

constantly texts you when he’s at work and if you don’t answer within 5 minutes he becomes a worried mess

takes advantage of your tired and drowsy state to cuddle you endlessly, even if you wanted to get up, he wouldn’t let you, saying that it’s the doctor's prescription to rest in bed (with him, of course)

𓆩♡𓆪   JEON WONWOO

when he arrives at your place and sees you all cuddled up in blankets asleep with a thermometer and medicine on the table, he can swear his heart breaks a little

he acts all unbothered, but on the inside, he is all freaked out

is very gentle and soft and has this urge to constantly hug you (he hates knowing that you’re in pain and there’s nothing he can do about it, so he wants to make it up to you by being by your side 24/7)

tries to make something for you to eat, but eventually gives up and either orders tons of takeout or calls Mingyu to make ramen for you 

he knows you like to watch him when he’s gaming, so he’ll put you between his legs, your back pressed against his chest, with a thick blanket around you (you probably fall asleep within first five minutes, but it puts him at ease knowing that you’ll get some rest) 

𓆩♡𓆪  LEE JIHOON

is always there by your side, so you know that you can always count on him and he’ll help you as best as he can 

even if he’s at work, he told you that you could call him anytime you needed anything from the store or is you were feeling worse 

if he’s at home though, he stays in your bedroom working, but checking up on you from time to time, making sure you’ve got everything you needed 

gets so relieved when you finally fall asleep (when he made sure that you’re REALLY asleep he’d put an extra blanket around you and peck your forehead)

supports you in any way he can when you’re sick

𓆩♡𓆪  XU MINGHAO 

has every type of medication you need, you don’t even have to ask for anything, he’s got everything ready to take care of you  

if you’re too weak to eat or take a shower by yourself, he’ll happily feed you and help you get to the bathroom, where he’ll run you a bath, filled with different bathing salts  

he will make tea every few hours, assuring you that it will help with your symptoms and make you recover faster

if you're feeling particularly unwell, but don’t want to go to the doctor, he’ll call his mom to ask for any tips (she’ll probably scold you too, but just because she’s worried about you)

may not be that enthusiastic about cuddling you, but when he sees how bad and lonely you feel, laying alone in bed all day, he’ll put you on his chest and play with your hair to help you fall asleep 

𓆩♡𓆪  KIM MINGYU 

he turns into your personal chef, WILL MAKE YOU SO MUCH FOOD 

you won’t be able to get out of bed, he makes sure you stay there for the next week. He will do everything for you and the only time you are allowed to leave is to go to the bathroom, but that’s it

if he’s not in the kitchen he is right by your side, probably cuddling you, not being able to see you sick and unwell (he wants to spend every second next to you, comforting you in any way he can)

is so so worried, even if you reassure him that you’re okay and that it’s just a fever

you have to basically force him out of the house, so he doesn’t miss his work. He makes you promise that if you feel even a bit worse you call him, but even though, he texts you constantly, hating the fact that you’re all alone at home 

𓆩♡𓆪  LEE SEOKMIN 

gets so protective and caring (even more than he usually is) and insists that you stay in bed for the next couple of days 

he’d sit you down on the couch, give you one of his hoodies, wrap you up in fluffy blankets, making sure that you’re warm, and give you all the medication you need 

not exactly sure what to do next, but stays calm for your sake, not wanting to make you even more upset than you already were 

if he was feeling particularly lost, he’d call his older members asking for any tips on how to take care of you 

would be happy to cuddle you and help you with anything you needed - do your house chores, feed you, or help you shower 

𓆩♡𓆪 BOO SEUNGKWAN 

clueless maknae 1/3

panics, because he isn’t sure how to help you - is he supposed to take you to the doctor? Buy you meds? Make any special food?

you’d have to reassure him that it’s okay and that you’d tell him if you needed anything (he feels a bit bad that he isn’t completely capable of taking care of you, but still does his best, to show that you can always count on him)

he’d get very protective, and would throw a tantrum if you left your bed - even though you just wanted to go to the bathroom, he would still be very dramatic about it

in the end, he’d be the perfect company for when you’re sick, even though he might overreact a little, it’s just because he loves you so much and is worried about you 

𓆩♡𓆪 CHWE VERNON 

clueless maknae 2/3

his mind would go blank when he saw how the coughing fits was keeping you awake at night, but he had no clue how to help you

would call his mom first thing in the morning and ask a thousand questions how to help you and how to treat you, not wanting to feel so useless and actually do something to make you feel better 

he would unintentionally use his humour to cheer you up and finally put a small smile on your face (he felt as if he achieved the biggest thing, when he sees that he made you smile) 

gets a bit panicky if you tell him you’re getting worse, definitely would take you to the doctor immediately

𓆩♡𓆪  LEE CHAN 

clueless maknae 3/3

so so so protective and caring, he would NOT let you out of bed

the second you tell him you’re feeling sick, he googles every of your symptom and convinces himself that you’re probably going to die and that he NEEDS to drive you to hospital 

you’d have to reassure him a lot that your fine and it’s just the flu, but he would still take care of you, as if you were about to die 

he would call half of his contact list in search for any tips - his hyungs, mom, grandmother and even an aunt that he hasn’t seen in forever (he’s just so sad that his baby is feeling sick and want to do everything he can to make you feel better :<)

[conan-hearts-u]

Snow date !

Summary:Reader x Nahoya (Smiley) fluff, playing in the snow,nahoya gets sick

c/w: Swearing, a bit sugesstive, Reader and Nahoya are married

w/c:570+

A/n: kinda worked hard on this so hope yall like this <3<3 (also its not proof read. might also make a part 2 of this

"Ughh Im so obsessed with your hair Nahoya!!" You played with his hair while he had his head on your lap.

"If you are so obsessed with it wouldnt you like babies with the same hair?" He said looking at you with a dumb smile on his face

"Shut the fuck up!" you shouted pushing him off you and trying to hide your flustered face

"Ok ok i was only joking"he gets up and looks outside the window "Look Y/n!" he pointed towards the window "its not snowing anymore lets go outside"

"No its too cold" You complained while taking out your phone to check the tempeture "Its minus twenty five Celcius outside" you showed your phone to him

"I have been outside in way worse tempetures, c'mon dont be like that lets have fun" He started pulling you by your arm trying to get you of your bed

"Nooo i get cold easily " You whine not moving from your bed

"I'll keep you warm, I promise"

"Whatever" You get up from the bed and started getting dressed in warm clothes

"Nahoya you should actually wear warm clothes i dont want you to get sick"

"Oh so now you care about me?" He chuckled " No need to worry your pretty head over small things like these i wont get sick"

"If you say so" You roll your eyes at him but you cant stop yourself for smilling at his stupidity

When you go outside you feek like you are going to freeze to death. The only thing you could think about is how is he not cold?

"Nahoyaaa! lets make a snow man together" You suggested as you kneeled down and started making a snow ball

"Sure why not " he responded as he sat down next to you in the snow and made a snow ball "Hey y/n!"

Hm?" you turn towards him and he throws a snow ball right at you " WHAT THE FUCK" you scream trying to get the snow of your face

He just looks at you, smiles and starts running away. You started running after him throwing snow balls at him.This goes on for almost and hour just both of you running around and throwing snowballs at eachother untill you both got tired and just layed down in the snow for a bit

"Im cold." he said and started coughing

"Omg what Nahoya love i warned you and all you said was `i wont get sick and now look at yourself like some sick baby" you scolded him as you helped him get up from the snow

"Atleast now you have to take care of me" he stuck out his tongue "im your sick patient"

"Shut up, you are the most annoying person ever when you are sick " Both of you went inside "and you are also most annoying perosn while you are healthy, i guess you are just an annoying person in general " you shrug

"thats mean." he gives you a fake frown and started fake crying

"You are so immature, i cant belive Im married to a teen boy in a adult mans body." you roll your eyes at him and give him a kiss on the cheek

"well you are hopelessly in love with me and that will never change" he pulled you in close and whispered in your ear "So, about what i said earlier~ "

"NO NAHOYA"

Made with love by Conan <3

[stuffymcstuffsworld]

No, I'm not dying

The flu was nothing new to humans. They had been dealing with variants of it for centuries despite what some assumed. So, really, you calling in a sick day and locking yourself inside your room so the kids didn't get it wasn't a big deal. Or so you and Iruma had thought.

Apparently, it was a big deal to demons. Your phone received hundreds of different texts and calls the main culprit being Balam, who was practically a hysterical when speaking to. Why in Devi's name did he think you were dying?

Asking what he should do for your human burial rights and everything. It kinda pissed you off that he had so little faith in your immune system! And if Balam was being dramatic, Sullivan was being 10x worse.

Balling his eyes out and rambling about not wanting to lose his baby. Honestly, what a headache. It wasn't until after you woke up from a nap that you saw a text from iruma that made you think twice.

'I think there's some kind of misunderstanding. Maybe flu means something else here?' You thought back to all the crying and excessive messages. That might explain something. But you still had 2-3 more days for recovery.

So you simply texted back. 'Kindly remind your grandfather that we are not demons and therefore will not die from demonic disease.' Then you shot a quick text to the sniveling demon outside your door. 'I'm not dying for devi's sake. I just need rest!'

Then you called Balam and demanded he come over now if he was going to be so emotional about this. The large demon was outside your balcony in minutes. You swung open the doors and gave the sharpest glare you could muster with your stuffed up system at work.

"I'm gonna make this very clear, so listen." Your voice a little nasally, but luckily, it wasn't too bad. "I'm not dying. I will not be dying. Humans have dealt with this for generations. it's a part of life. Now stop fussing. All I need is bed rest for 3 more days max and then I'll show you that I'm still alive and will beat the ass of anyone who says otherwise."

You coughed a few times, but the glare you gave when the large demon reached out stopped him in his tracks. "I'm kicking you out of the nest till I get better." He gasped "what no please what if it gets worse or-"

You gave him a look. "I am fine. I will be fine. You can ask questions and give me a full check-up when I am better." You slammed the door back into place. Knowing that if he wanted to, the demon could easily rip it off its hinges. But also knowing he wouldn't.

A knock at your door reveals a tear stained Sullivan looking at you. Or well, it's more like through you. "Humans are so delicate." He murmured. You snorted.

"Of course, we are compared to demons. That just makes all of our accomplishments more amazing! Watch me, Papa, I'm gonna get better, then I'll be kicking down the doors to babyls again in no time." You flshed a cheeky grin.

***72hrs later***

You race down the stairs, wishing the kids good morning. Bestowing hugs and kisses freely as you went. Leaping past a shocked opera and into the dining room where a sulking Sullivan sat.

You started texting your colleagues that you were fine as you made your way over to the slim demons side. "Papa, I'm feeling lazy. Will you carry me to school?" You teased. The demon perked up and looked at you.

You smiled and twirled in place a moment. "Hurry, Papa, I have so much to do before classes start." Sullivan scooped you up immediately spinning you around the room.

Laughter filled the room. Later that day, just as the bell rang for first class to start, you kicked down Balams door. Students shocked yet egar to see you. "I lived bitch!" You shouted before striding over to the trembling demon and pulling him in for much needed cuddle time.

[snifflesandchills]

Snzarios for Every Month.

I’m also going to do one for sicknesses in general, rather than just colds.

January 🎄

So many people get sick right after the holidays, after exposure to countless colds and germs, and the stress of the season. Maybe a relative was sick, or maybe someone at Walmart while you were doing your last-minute Christmas shopping. Either way, you’re down with a bad head cold.

A stuffy, runny nose

Sneezes that are so tickly they coax more sneezes out.

Every time you sniffle, you can feel congestion going down the back of your sore throat 😣

Headache from constant sneezing and coughing. It throbs with every stifled sneeze, but you can’t stop stifling because then someone else might catch your germs and come down with a bad cold of their own.

What would a winter cold be without chills? And a fever just high enough to make you feel sooo sickkkkk 😩

February ❄️

I catch the messiest colds ever in February, I don’t know why. Like, there was only one February (2021) since I can remember that I didn’t get an awful cold. Idk why 😬 oop

Potential low-grade fever, but constant chills.

Achy throat, head, chest, and basically everything else,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Nose is completely stuffed up, but somehow runs like a faucet? 🤨 messy af

Sneezing continuously, getting rid of a ton of thick, gooey snot, but still not doing anything to help the congestion.

A cough, just so your throat will continue to hurt

So incredibly tired from the sneezing, sniffling, and snot production

March ⛅️

So many people are getting sick as the weather starts to change and snow starts to melt, kicking off allergy season. Sneezy season pushes on.

Headache

Chills, but no fever

Congestion. Plugged, snotty nose and sneezing, a cough, discomfort in general. You are a complete snot monster, but you can’t help it. You can only blame whoever gave you such a horrible cold.

April 🌧

April showers bring May flowers, but they also bring bouts of spring colds. The weather is beginning to get nicer, but you have to be stuck in bed with a bad cold.

Fever and aches. Not the kind of fever that makes you solely cold, but the kind that makes you sweat and have goosebumps simultaneously. As for aches, think head, throat, chest, legs, arms, everything.

A head that’s so stuffed up that the sufferer can’t breathe, let alone sneeze normally. With every breath, they can feel everything shifting grossly inside of their head.

May 💐

Why do I feel like everyone catches the sniffles at the end of the school year?

A runny, slightly sniffly nose that’s just stuffy enough for them to sound congested, and for their exhaled to feel uncomfortably hot against their skin.

Sneezing, a result of the snotty, itchy nose.

A sight, irritated cough

June 💦

Summer break is prime time to swim, but the earlier in the season you do it, the colder the water will be. Keep this in mind, because swimming in cold water can result in a nasty cold.

It would start off with chills. Your body would try to warm up, but eventually a fever would start to set in.

Your nose would begin running when you were in the water, but it wouldn’t stop when you got out. It would completely stuff you up within a few hours.

A headache/body aches from shivering for hours on end. No amounts of medicine, blankets, or hot tea can warm you up.

Sneezing excessively. By excessively, I mean, not being able to stop and needing to wipe your face after each one because they are so messy.

Coughing, but only after you blow your nose, because of the irritation.

A sore throat and glands from all of the sneezing and coughing and being sick in general.

July 🔥

Everyone around seems to be sick with something. Staying up on the Fourth of July might have been your body’s last straw. Say hello to a gross, streaming summer cold.

A fever, which causes you to sweat and shiver simultaneously. It’s ninety degrees, whatever. A heavy sweatshirt would make you feel better.

An extremely stuffy nose which only runs at inconvenient times.

Stuffy sneezes, which the sufferer is constantly trying to ward off so the others won’t notice the monster of a cold they’ve come down with.

A bad, congested cough, just to make hiding their illness harder.

Bonus points! The sufferer is constantly ducking off to blow their nose or cough away from the rest of the group because being sick embarrasses them.

August 🏵

One of the hottest months of the year, hypothetically a month you shouldn’t get sick during. But after a long, busy summer, your immune system needed a day off. Unfortunately, that day was long enough to land you with a stuffy head cold. Oops.

A nose so stuffy that sniffling does absolutely nothing. No matter how hard you try, nothing moves, untiiillllllll it starts running uncontrollably.

Stuffy sneezes to partner with the congestion 😌

Exhaustion. That’s it, exhaustion.

September 📓

Everyone is going back to school and getting exposed to all sorts of new germs. Despite best efforts to avoid sick people, a snotty cold is practically inevitable.

There just had to be a very runny and stuffy nose

A headache

Sore throat

Just enough sneezing to tell everyone you’re sick ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

October ☔️

Imagine getting caught in a cold autumn rainstorm, getting chilled to the bone, and coming down with a vicious cold as a result of it.

stuffy/runny nose, of course, because that’s what cold weather does to you.

sore throat that makes you sound so hoarse 🥺

head/body aches

fever and chills

an unimaginable amount of congestion

a cough caused by the congestion

constant, excessive sneezing, each causing a wet, inescapable mist of cold germs to rain down on anyone nearby. and no, tissues do nothing to contain the sneezes, because they are far too messy.

November 🎃

okie so I can’t actually think of anything except !! catching a chill on Halloween that knocks you down with a huge cold.

stuffy/runny nose

sore throat

headache

a constant chill and a slight fever

constant sneezing

December 🚎

The darkest, dampest month, perfect for getting sick. The snow is getting more frequent, and it’s not uncommon for you to get stuck in it waiting for a bus. Once you get on the bus, you’re in close quarters with a bunch of sick people, like it or not. The worst chest cold of your life is on its way.

A sniffly nose

A sore throat and hoarse voice

A ton of congestion and a bad cough that makes the congestion and hoarseness obvious

Even the sneezes sound hoarse and stuffy 🥺

On top of that, a headache and fever because of how sick you are. The fever makes you shiver and sweat and sleep and feel absolutely miserable.

[heich0e]

midnights, menthols, maybes - akaashi keiji/f!reader (1.9k, mostly SFW) tags: platonic FWBs, implications of deep but ambiguous affection, post-coital conversations, akaashi smoking cigarettes, general overtone of those weird growing pains of early adulthood where you're still trying to figure it all out, talk of the future (marriage, parenthood), tw: keiji is kind of slutting reader out to his friends (or the other way around! all in good fun), based on this post and amy's (@saetyrn9) tags.

Keiji has a strict, self-imposed 'no smoking' rule in his apartment.

He doesn't want his little space to yellow with nicotine; his furniture, his books, the walls. He also doesn't like the way smoke clings to any soft surface or fabric, the smell turning sour and stale and impossible to remove over time. And he always says that when–not if–he quits, it'll be easier if he's not used to smoking inside anyway so it won't be an ever-present temptation he has to fight.

But there are two exceptions that he makes to this policy, rule-abiding though he may be. The first exception is reserved for when it's raining outside with an accompanying north wind, which means the raindrops will blow under the cover of his balcony, soak into his house slippers, and he might end up catching a cold. The second is saved for midnights spent with you, recuperating from having gone a few rounds, where just mustering the strength to crawl to the end of his bed and crack open the window is a miraculous feat in and of itself.

A plume of smoke curls from Keiji's lips on a long, almost rapturous exhale, his entire body slackening like he’s cumming for the fourth time tonight. You'd already seen (and felt) the tension bleed from him much earlier in the evening as he fucked you down into his mattress–following your usual routine of drinking your weight in whatever liquor was readily available and slandering your respective employers for a couple of hours–but now he’s really, totally at peace.

You watch him lift the mentholated cigarette up to his lips again, and you watch the inhale. The lit end burns bright in the dark room, stark against the shadows. The only other source of brightness is the distant city light against his profile as he sits next to his open window, backlit by the late night glow.

He has no glasses on—the frames discarded on the bedside table next to you, perched over the open drawer with a string of unused condoms still left hanging out from the side. His hair is tousled, dark and unruly. His lips are still a little swollen, their silhouette slightly fuller than usual as they wrap around the filter of the cigarette and take another drag.

He’s so pretty.

“Hey… ‘ji?” you mumur, soft enough to preserve the stillness blanketing the stretch of bed between you.

Keiji tilts his face in your direction, peeking at you from the corner of his eye with his cigarette still held between his lips.

He says nothing, but you know he’s listening.

“Would you ever wanna be my boyfriend?” 

You're not quite sure where the question even comes from, and clearly neither is he as he plucks the menthol from his lips in mild surprise. He laughs quietly, a half-rasp, and smoke slips out in an inelegant little puff when he coughs a bit.

“No.” His response is quick, honest, and sure.

You can't help but pout. 

“That’s kinda mean," you mutter, your fingers twisting into the comforter that rests over you, preserving your body heat as the night breeze rushes in through the open window. Every so often the wind carries Keiji's cigarette smoke closer to you before it has the chance to draw it out, but you don't quite mind it. It's familiar to you after all this time. Comforting, almost.

Keiji flicks a bit of ash from the end of the cigarette into the ashtray he has resting on the windowsill. 

“You deserve a better boyfriend than me, don’t you think?”

You hear a far-off siren blaring somewhere in the city outside as you consider his question.

“No,” you echo his earlier reply, but where his tone had been so resolute your own is offended on his behalf.

Time and sex has dried you out, and you're more sober now than you'd once been, even though the empty beer cans the two of you drained as still littering his living room table. You push yourself up off the pillows at the head of the bed and crawl down towards the dark haired man on your hands and knees. You're still a little shaky, a little weak, and Keiji watches your every move raptly as you approach. You pause just beside him at the end of the bed, blinking up at him expectantly. He lifts the cigarette to your waiting mouth so you can take a little puff, watching your lips as they just barely wrap around the end. You feel the pleasant buzz of nicotine in your veins as the prickling, minty smoke hits your lungs, then the light head rush that accompanies it once you breathe it all out again.

Keiji pulls the cigarette away and you flop down on your tummy next to him, rolling onto your side so you can peer up at his face. He reaches over to the sill and deftly flicks the ash away once more, and then takes another long drag.

“Why do you think I set you up with so many of my friends?”

This time it's his question that takes you by surprise, the words hanging in the air like the smoke he breathes out.

“Because you’re gossip hungry, and wanna know how they fuck.”

Keiji smiles wryly above you, stamping out the cigarette. 

“Yeah, true," he admits as he shimmies his bedroom window most-of-the-way shut, leaving just a crack to help the lingering traces of smoke clear. He turns to face you, one hand pressing down into the mattress beside your head as he dips towards you. He takes your jaw in his gentle hand, a thumb on your chin as he tips your face up to look at him. “But it’s also because I want you to find a boyfriend who at least has sheets on his bed.”

Keiji's bedding, at present, consists only of a comforter over a mattress cover. You know there's a brand new package of sheets in the corner of his bedroom, because you'd spotted them when you'd stolen a sweatshirt from his dresser not long prior, but when you asked him about them, he admitted that he hasn’t had the chance to open and wash them yet. Part of you wondered when he got them, how long they've gone unopened, and how long he’s been sleeping like this.

He'd been considerate enough to put down a towel before the two of you had toppled into bed, in any case, so at least you weren’t sleeping on a wet mattress.

But now the towel is in the hamper, and his old high school volleyball sweatshirt is wrapped around your shoulders, and the last few lingering wisps of cigarette smoke are slipping through the crack in the window out into the night. 

“Some of the guys you’ve set me up with have way bigger issues than a lack of sheets,” you counter his point, your features scrunching. 

He pinches your nose affectionately.

“Those ones are mostly just my curiosity getting the best of me.”

“At my expense,” you retort nasally.

Keiji urges you back up off the mattress and to the top of the bed again, crawling up along with you. He pulls the comforter up to your chins as you both snuggle down on your respective sides of the bed that isn’t quite meant to fit two people comfortably, but that you somehow never feel cramped in.

You curl up on your side facing him and he does the same, his hands tucked under his pillow beneath his cheek. You and Keiji aren't really cuddlers, and never have been. It always feels more like a sleepover than a hookup at this point in the night. 

Keiji’s eyelids are heavy as he lays beside you, but he's still watching your face between blinks. 

“Lets make a deal,” he says–his voice deep and flat and familiar. 

“‘Kay.”

“How about at forty, if neither of us have gotten our lives together yet and you’ve finally fucked your way through every man in my contact list, we get married?”

You want to laugh, but somehow you don't.

“Isn’t forty a bit late?”

“I figure it gives us a fair shot. I have a lot of contacts, you know.”

That makes you snort.

It's quiet for a moment. Blinks instead of words passing between you.

“What about kids?" you finally reply. "How about 35, instead? Biological clocks and all that.”

“You wanna have my kids?” Keiji's eyes look slightly more curious now, a little more lively under his heavy lids, but his tone doesn’t really change. Ever the same. 

You hum.

“I don’t think it’d be so bad,"–you shrug as much as you can laying down–“not sure I'd be very good at it though.”

“Well, dual income with no kids could be kinda nice.”

“Yeah,” you agree thoughtfully. “We can fuck whenever we want and go on expensive vacations.”

“That would require taking time off work,” Keiji reminds you—a feat which neither of you are particularly good at, at least not now in your late-20s when sometimes just finding 20 minutes in the run of a day to eat a meal feels like time you don't have.

You breathe out something that's not quite a huff nor a sigh, and yet somehow both at the same time.

“Alright, what about 38? Any earlier than that and we’re just setting ourselves up to fail,” Keiji offers up a compromise, wiggling one hand out from under his pillow to brush an errant piece of hair back from your face. "Still a few years for a baby to happen if it happens, and otherwise it’ll just be us and our vacations.”

“38...” you repeat his proposition, mulling it over.

Time keeps ticking.

A few more blinks.

“So, will you maybe marry me?”

“Sure,” you agree, as easy as anything. You mean it too, you think; there are far worse fates than spending the rest of your days with Keiji at your side. Laughing the way you only seem to when you’re together. Fucking the same way you always have. Maybe popping out a few neurotic, deceptively placid-faced babies if the universe has a sense of humour. Growing old falling asleep just like this, face to face. 

You know him. He knows you.

Keiji reaches up into the space between your faces, and sticks out his pinkie.

You reach up and loop yours through.

You're both on the periphery of sleep now, the time between blinks growing longer and longer until soon your eyes are closed.

Keiji hums a little: a question.

You hum back to tell him you're still awake.

“Did I mention that Bokuto-san said the National Team’s trainer is single again?”

“Iwaizumi-san?” you murmur curiously.

Keiji hums again, deep and low.

You crack one eye open, but Keiji’s are still closed and his expression is serene across from you. 

You smile a little, and you might roll your eyes if they weren’t already closing again. 

“Get me his number.”

“Get me a story.”

“Maybe.”

[mykingdomforasong]

What’s the sick fic?? 👀👀👀

It was something I had been working on for Mandocule Mondays and then didn't finish in time lol.

Grogu gets sick while on Tatooine with Din, Boba, and Fennec. din is dating the two of them, but is also dating Luke. Boba and Fennec know Din has a mystery man somewhere out in the galaxy, but (per Luke's request) don't know that it's Luke. Din also doesn't know Han, for the same personal safety reasons.

Of course, once Grogu gets sick, though, Din calls Luke for help, since he's he's the only one who can communicate with Grogu, and the only one they know with any experience about the species.

The general plot was going to go in the direction of: Luke decides to go to Tatooine to help Grogu, willingly giving up his secrecy for Din and Grogu. And Han, well, .... You know how sometimes when a dog sees and hears a vacuum, it stands in between you and the vacuum because it wants to protect you, even though it's the one shaking scared of it? That's basically Han. Han doesn't let Luke go alone, even though Luke isn't the one who's really afraid.

They ultimately put all their differences aside, and the mandocule helps take care of Grogu for a few days until he's better.

snip-it under the cut:

Grogu made a tiny noise from the other side of the room. And then again, and again. 

Din was used to the sounds of him playing, making up little stories and games for himself in whatever language he used. But these were different. Listened a little closer, and sure enough, the kid was coughing. 

“You alright, kid?” Din asked. They’d just landed on Tatooine a few hours before, and Grogu had seemed fine the entire journey. 

Grogu responded in his Grogu way, making small sounds that were, to Din’s trained ear, less than happy. 

“Alright, let’s take a look at you…” 

He looked a little green -- well, greener than usual. Din slipped off a glove to gently check his temperature the way his mother always had. He didn’t notice anything unusual, but, then again, he wasn’t quite sure what usual was. 

It was dawning on Din in the worst way that he didn’t know anything about what it might mean to care for a sick Grogu. 

Grogu coughed in his arms again. “Alright,” Din said, “let’s go see if I can find you some soup.” 

~ 

The sound of rattling pots and pans seemed to be enough to alter Boba and Fennec to whatever he was up to. 

“You know,” Fennec said, appearing behind him without him ever registering that she was on the move, “we have cooks if you want something.” 

He turned to show Grogu in the sling Luke had given him. Grogu had fallen asleep on the long journey down the stairs, and Din didn’t know if that was a good sign or a bad one. 

“The kid is sick,” he said. 

“What?” Boba said. 

“How can you tell?” Fennec asked, poking the sleeping child’s head. Din shooed her off. 

“I’m just trying to get some soup made for him,” he explained. 

“Not a lot of soup in the desert, but I’ll see what the droids can do.” 

~

Back upstairs, Din swaddled Grogu to keep him warm, and laid him down on his wide bed to make sure he was comfortable. Boba had promised to send some food up for them when it was ready. So now all Din had to do was sit, watch Grogu, and try not to panic. 

He tapped his fingers on the mattress, trying to consider what to do. Boba could be back any minute, and he might want to stick around to try and help. Din would welcome any help, of course, but the one person he really wanted to talk to had given Din strict instructions to “not tell Boba Fett you know me, you know where I am, that we’re --” 

He and Luke had spent more time figuring out how Din was going to be both honest and open with his partners on Tatooine, while also keeping Luke’s life a total secret. Thankfully, given his proximity to several criminal undergrounds, Din’s request that Boba and Fennec not ask too many questions about his new man didn’t get challenged or even questioned. 

So, all in all, it probably wasn’t a smart idea to comm Luke from inside the palace while he was waiting for Boba. But Luke was the only one with any experience with the species, and he didn’t want to be making the situation worse. 

Din crept into the room’s closet and commed Luke. 

“Din?” Luke said on the other end. “Is everything alright?” 

Din could hear a voice in the background. He knew Luke occasionally had visitors to the planet, but there was one visitor in particular Din hadn’t been allowed to meet yet. (“Because of Boba Fett?” “Because of Boba Fett.”). Din’s anxiety swelled a little, realizing just how much this call might break their one very important rule. 

“I’m sorry to call you from here, it’s just … Grogu is sick. You’re the only one I know who has experience with the species.” 

A voice somewhere behind Luke spoke up. “The little green guy?” 

“The little green guy,” Luke confirmed. “Uh … Din, that’s Han, Han that’s Din.” 

“Nice to meet you,” Din said. 

“You too. Sorry about all the … yeah. Wish I could tell you Luke was the paranoid one.” 

“We’ll talk about it another time,” Luke said. “Tell me about Grogu?” 

Din gave a brief description. “I don’t know,” Luke confessed. “I mean, it sounds like a cold, but I can’t really tell you what might help him. I mean, I only saw Master Yoda sick once, but he died pretty fast.” 

“What?!” Din yelled. 

“He was like 900 years old!” Luke added hastily. “And I think I might have just annoyed him to death.” 

“Typical of you,” Han said in the background. Luke didn’t bother protesting the jab. 

“If you brought him back to Yavin 4, I could communicate with him, see how he feels, what he wants.” 

“Or,” Han interjected, “if you’re really worried, just bring him to a doctor. Doctors on Tatooine have seen all kinds of weird things. Trust me.” 

Din started to talk again when the door of his closet swung open. Din hung up the comm fast and without warning.  

“What are you doing in there?” Boba Fett asked him, staring down at where Din was sitting. 

“Had to make a call, I didn’t want to wake up Grogu.” 

Boba nodded. If he had more questions about who Din called and why, he didn’t say anything. “I brought up a soup and some blue milk. How’s the little one?” 

Din looked at the bed. “Still asleep.” 

“Let him rest. If the soup gets cold or the milk gets hot, we can fix it,” Boba promised. “Did your mystery man have any good ideas?” 

Din’s face got a little hot at the mention of him. “Take him to the doctor,” he said. Well, he added to himself, that idea had come from his mystery man’s mystery man. 

Boba laughed. “Can’t go wrong with that, I guess. I’ll see who I can bring in from town.” Din nodded. Boba rested a gentle hand on his face, before pressing their foreheads together. “Kids get sick, Djarin. He’ll be fine.” For good measure, Boba pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 

When the door closed behind Boba, Din shed his armor. He should call Luke back and apologize for hanging up, but that could wait. Luke was remarkably understanding and patient, and Din found his claim that he had once annoyed someone to death a little hard to believe. 

[sojuseoltang]

hiii can you pls make a sunghoon nsfw a-z? 🥰🥰🥰

There u go baby <33

Sunghoon nsfw a-z

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Very chill. Imagine this. It’s a late morning on a free day. You and Sunghoon just fucked. After both of you reach your heights you just lie in the morning-light flooded room, on the bed, staring at each other between white sheets. You lie on his chest and your thumbs draws circles on his collar bone while his hand is softly stroking your arm, sharing some intense eye contact that occasionally gets disturbed by both of you smiling and lowering your eyes. I don’t think there’d be much actual aftercare but I also don’t think either of you’d need it.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I’m a firm believer that he’s a boob man. My man just likes titties. Squeeze them, suck on them or lay his head on them. It’s all great to him.

On himself I’d say perhaps his hands? Were all in the know about his hands being delicate, beautiful works of art and seeing them dance across your body would be spectacular. Also I think he’s good at fingering don’t tell anyone tho

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

As a designated clean boy™️ I think he likes to keep it tidy. Wants to cum on a surface easily cleanable. So I’d say if you’d let him cum inside of you he’d be over the moon but if you don’t any other place is a-okay with him aswell (cough tits cough)

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Probably just everyyyythinggg slightly out of the ordinary that’s sexual. I think he has a lot of shame regarding that topic and you’d have to teach him that there’s nothing wrong with it. I’d take a while to get him to properly open up.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Hmmmmmm :/ On one hand I want to say very experienced as he is an extremely attractive ex- professional athlete and let me tell you from personal experience: athletes fuck. But on the other hand Sunghoon is such a reserved little angel? I mean he used to be basically alone all the time cause he was socially not super integrated and if he didn’t really have friends I’d say having sex is even less likely? Gonna have to pull the idk card on that one 🤷‍♀️

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Sunghoon likes it when you ride him. Point blank period.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

I think fucking Sunghoon would always be a healthy mix of serious and awkward but generous laughs. I’d feel good. And authentic. I doubt he’s as stern as a brick or super goofy it’s always something in between.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I like to believe he’s bare shaved cause I like it like that but realistically speaking he probably trims & that’s it. Very clean tho.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Whenever you and him get down to it there’s this certain energy you’d feel in the air. It might not be completely serious of something but there’s always this intimate spark. It would feel as if you were the only two people in the world and time would just stop

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Barely. Again I feel like he’s a bit ashamed, also I just don’t feel like he has the urge to jerk off a lot? When he does he’s beautiful and pathetic tho

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Soooo I kinda head cannon Sunghoon as a sub? I mean his ideal type is Irene there’s no way he doesn’t like getting dominated. But for the sake of not being too judgmental and also for self-indulgence I say switch but soft!dom:

Mommy kink

Choking kink (receiving and slight giving)

Marking kink (giving and receiving)

Body worship (giving and strong receiving)

Biting (giving- y’all seen those vampy teeth?)

Addition: also wouldn’t mind you trying some wax play and light bondage on him 👀

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Bed. Comfortable and private. Why would you feel the need to fuck anywhere else?

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Being nice to him? I know that’s lame but I see Sunghoon as someone who’s like “wow this person really loves and cherishes me let me give them my heart- and my dick”

Alternatively: often sexually associated actions like sucking on a lollipop, biting your lip, staring up at him,… would do it for him too I guess 🙄

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

As much as I know y’all love that gimmick, I think Sunghoon’s willingness to be sexually experimental would end at something like getting pegged

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Prefers giving, even if he’s not great at it at first. It all ties into the being embarrassed thing and receiving oral he wouldn’t be able to hold back his noises which would get him sooo shy :((

I do think once you’re at a place where he’s more comfortable he’d like getting sucked off a lot, maybe even more than giving oral. He doesn’t want to admit that he actually really enjoys receiving, but you like to pleasure him anyways and it turns out nice.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Messy, definitely messy. I don’t think he’d have a set pace? He’d do whatever you’d want him to, or at least try to.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Not a fan. Baby don���t like being stressed. Even when you’d have sex in a setting that wasn’t super common for the both of you he’d still want to have enough privacy to be able to take his time which ties directly into:

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Not really a super big fan but maybe more than you’d think? To be clear I highly doubt that Sunghoon would want to fuck somewhere where you could get caught at any moment, but having like a free half an hour before he needs to perform to lock yourselves in the dressing room I mean 👀

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

I mean he used to be a professional athlete. I’m thinking he’s definitely got something in him. I’ll say 2-3 rounds average.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

There’s no way he owns toys c’mon. He’d be super fascinated to see yours tho and might even develop a new kink watching you use them on yourself.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Not a big teaser but I think he enjoys some lighthearted being annoying. When he’s about to eat you out and he purposely doesn’t go where you need him to go but keeps kissing your thighs and looking up at you and you’re just like !! bitch !! and he laughs

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

I think he’s loud 😩 I mean I like to think that. A moaner and whiner is imagine.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

I can imagine him in a choker very well. All dressed up. Your pretty baby. Occasionally you’d pull on the leather around your neck, making him look up at you with his wet brown siren eyes

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Has a pretty dick. Come on. With the way the rest of him looks there’s no way he doesn’t have a pretty dick. He’s a little above average and slim but not too slim.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Not super high? I think for him I’d be a sensual thing. Whenever he feels specifically loved by you he’d wanna have sex. To me he feels like the least horny out of the hyung line but do with that information what you want

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I think he’d wanna stay awake for a while to talk to you and exchange some sensual touches. He’d want you to call him a pretty boy (and he would obviously give it back as he is a polite gentleman) and play with his hair and after a while of just enjoying each other’s presence you might doze off in each other’s arms.

[acourtofbooksandfantasy]

Starfall - Azriel x fem! Reader

Disclaimer: this is my first piece I’ve ever published. I’m not taking requests but would be open to ideas for new things to write! Let me know what you think. I had this idea the other day and couldn’t stop thinking about it until I wrote it down. I also originally named the main fem! character but decided to make it Y/N at the last minute, so if her name is in there then whoops! Either way, enjoy xx

Starfall. The most beautiful night in Prythian. Souls traveling to a far off place, leaving a blinding beauty in their wake. The Night Court prepared for weeks to welcome their passage.

Each member of the Inner Circle enjoyed this day, but Azriel often used this day to mourn. And to hope. Each year, he would wish upon those flying glimmers of starlight. Praying. Hoping. One day, he would find his mate.

In the past, he used the evening to drink and pray and hope that Mor would realize she was his mate. But when she and Emerie confirmed their mating bond two years prior, Azriel simply used this evening to wish upon the stars for someone of his very own.

This year was not any different, until two months before when a secret Illyrian camp was raided and a young woman was found, wingless. She was battered and bruised, terrified of any male who came near her. Cassian had brought her back to the House of Wind with Feyre’s help, to give her a place to recover and rest.

Over the coming weeks, she revealed to Mor and Amren that her name was Y/N, and that she had been sold to the foul Illyrians at a high price to help support her family. She was used for work, cleaning and cooking, and kept in a small room. She revealed her wings were taken after a visit where Rhysand and Cassian required Devlon to start training all Illyrian females. As she told the story, even Amren shed a tear.

Cassian and Azriel were introduced to Y/N, along with Nesta, to help train her. Even without wings, Feyre believed it would do her much good to know how to protect herself. And Y/N vowed she would never again let someone lay hands on her unless she asked. Over the weeks, Cassian and Azriel coached from the sidelines as Nesta and Mor demonstrated and helped, since Y/N still feared the males being too close. Each day she grew a little stronger, and became more confident. It became evident just how much the training was helping her mentally when she agreed to come out for a night at Rita’s with the Inner Circle. Much to Morrigan’s delight, as she would finally have a friend to dance with who wouldn’t make inappropriate comments like Cass.

Azriel couldn’t help but watch from across the bar as Mor and Y/N jumped and spun, without a care in the world. However, he became alarmed as he noticed two dark males approaching her from behind. Each one reached to grab her arms, and he growled as he flew from his chair. He pushed the men back, scooping Y/N into his arms and winnowing both her and Mor to the back of the bar where he knew no one would be. When he put her down, Y/N stared at him breathlessly. She couldn’t believe it, but when he came out of nowhere to rescue them, she hadn’t felt fear. In fact, she felt a strange pull in her stomach. Deep, aching. Longing. Like, she had known him before, in another time perhaps.

The mating bond.

It caused her to step back as it snapped into place.

But Azriel didn’t seem to notice a thing.

“Are you alright?” He asked, gently brushing a hand to her elbow as she stood, star struck.

“Yes. I’m fine….thank you.” She replied after a few awkward seconds.

Mor gave her a puzzling look, “Uh…okay you two let’s go home. Az…”

He grabbed their hands and winnowed them back to their home.

That night, Y/N sat alone in her room, feeling a pull towards the shadowsinger’s room. She knew she should probably stay, but she couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she went. Her curiosity got the best of her, and all of a sudden she was stood outside his bedroom. One hand ready to knock, but unsure of what she would say. She stood there nervously until the door cracked open, and Azriel popped his head out into the hall. He was only wearing some trousers, his hair disheveled from the slumber he’d just awoken from.

“ Y/N. Is there…something wrong?” He asked nervously.

“I…I…” Y/N scrambled for a reason to be in front of his door, “I sometimes have nightmares. I can’t fall asleep because I’m afraid of having a terrible dream.”

“Oh. I see.” Azriel said.

Y/N stood there, unsure of what to do next, “I shouldn’t have come. I’m sor-“

But before she could finish her thought, he grabbed her wrist gently and brought her inside.

“You can stay for a little while if you’d like,” Azriel started, “I have nightmares too. About my hands. And my mother. We can watch out for each other. And I can take you back to your room when you’re ready. You take the bed, I can sleep here.” He gestures to the small couch at the foot of his bed.

“Azriel I don’t want to take your bed.” Y/N stated, feeling guilty about coming in the first place.

“I insist.” Azriel gestured to the bed.

She sat down on the edge, as he laid himself on the couch that was barely big enough for him and his enormous wings. Even with them all tucked in, he nearly spilled out the sides of the couch.

She laid down as well, waiting for slumber to set in, but it didn’t, because she could only focus on the tug from her to him.

Close to an hour had passed, when finally a whisper emerged from the quiet. “Az?” Y/N lay flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Yes?” Azriel replied timidly.

“Can you…can you come up here?” Y/N asked rather calmly.

Silence filled the room, before the tall and dark Illyrian stood from the couch, slowly setting himself down on the other side of the bed. He lay flat on his back as well, as if trying to avoid touching her at all costs.

She reached across the bed and found his hand, interlocking her fingers in his. She rubbed her thumb along the lines of his scars.

“Thank you. For rescuing me. Maybe I can help rescue you from your nightmares?” Y/N said.

Azriel smiled at the ceiling in the dark, “Perhaps.”

________________________________________

Each of the girls from the Inner Circle had gone to the seamstress weeks prior to the event to have gowns made for the celebration. Each of the girls selected a gown some shade of Night Court black, except for Y/N. Feyre and the rest of the Night Court females found a gorgeous silver silk fabric, embedded with tiny crystals. When held up to the light, the fabric twinkled like a sea of stars.

“ Y/N! Since you are our special guest for the celebration, you should have a dress made from this!” Mor shouted, shoving a pile of the fabric into Y/N’s arms.

Y/N stared, mouth wide open, “I’m not sure, I don’t want to…”

Feyre stopped her by gentle placing a hand on her shoulder. “You are not a burden, and no one will be upset if you outshine every one of us. You deserve to have a night as fabulous as you are after all you’ve endured.”

Y/N smirked and nodded. “Okay, you’ve convinced me. I’ll have a dress made from this!”

________________________________________

The males waited, rather impatiently, in the front hall at the bottom of the staircase.

“You all have been getting ready since 10 o’clock this morning, you can’t SERIOUSLY still be primping can you??” Cassian grumbled as he leaned back on the wall.

Morrigan exited her room where they had all been drinking, giggling, and preparing for the evening. “You clearly have no understanding of what getting ready means to females, “ she said as she rolled her eyes at the general.

One by one, each of the girls stepped out. Feyre and Y/N were the last left inside the room. “You look lovely, Y/N. I’m so glad you’ve become one of our best friends.” Feyre gave Y/N a small squeeze. Y/N smiled, still appearing somewhat nervous for this evening.

Feyre studied her face closely, “He will think you are the most magnificent creature in the room tonight,” she whispered with a wink.

All the breath left Y/N’s lungs as she thought of the spymaster.

Mate.

Mate.

Mate.

Her heart pounded as Feyre gave her hand a quick squeeze before heading to the staircase. “Come along, Y/N. Let’s show them what you’ve got.”

________________________________________

His breath caught in the back of his throat at the sight of her at the top of the staircase.

The floor length gown had a deep v down the front, with two sheer straps that wrapped over her shoulders and crossed in the back. The silky fabric flowed as she took each step. She shimmered like starlight, and as the shimmering fabric moved it made it as thought Y/N herself was glowing in the night.

“Holy shit.” Cassian mumbled under his breath. Nesta elbowed him in the stomach, causing him to go into a coughing fit.

As Y/N reached the bottom of the stairs, everyone stopped what they were doing.

“Well, shall we?” Rhysand asked with a playful grin, simultaneously locking arms with his mate and nudging his spymaster brother towards the girl in the sparkling gown.

Azriel and Y/N stood for a moment. Y/N’s eyes remained focused on her feet, and Azriel watched as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. In that moment, when she looked up and locked eyes with him, he felt everything. A rushing of magic, or spirit, or something, coursed through his veins.

“Mate,” he said, so softly that only she could hear.

They remained frozen in time, stood there, taking in one another. As if their souls needed time to catch up on all the time they had been apart.

Azriel extended a hand to her, and their hands intertwined as they left the front hall. As they walked, Azriel leaned in and whispered to his mate, “You know, it might be hard to keep my hands off of you tonight.” Y/N peered up at him through her thick eyelashes. “You are quick to forget, I have not accepted the bond yet,” she replied with a smirk.

“You wound me, my love,” he stated with a look of bewilderment and shock. It took everything in him not to scoop her into his arms and winnow back to his room, to have his way with her right then and there.

________________________________________

They danced most of the night. So much so, that Cassian made several jokes about how he’d never seen his brother dance that much in their entire lives. It didn’t bother Y/N or Azriel one bit.

The couple stopped to sit and watch as the souls began to descend across the sky, traveling to wherever they belong. Azriel couldn’t help but watch his mate as she stared into the sky, absolutely enamored with her.

Y/N could feel the sting of his stare on her cheek. She turned to him, and reached across the table, her hand closed holding an object tightly inside. “I’d like to give you something,” she smiled. Azriel gave her a perplexed look, opening her hands to find a macaron.

He looked at the pastry, then his mate, and back to the pastry. “Are…are you certain?”

“I’ve never been more certain in my life.” Y/N replied confidently.

Azriel forced himself to savor every bite of the macaron, when really he wanted to shove the whole thing into his mouth so he could whisk her away from the party. Once he was finally finished, he stood, gesturing for Y/N to take his hand.

Cassian shouted from across the dance floor, “Hey brother!! Don’t be too loud tonight, SOME of us need our beauty rest!!” Nodding his head towards Rhysand. Feyre smacked him across the back of his head and Rhysand laughed. Azriel let out a low growl, but Y/N placed her hand on his lower back and stood on her tip toes to whisper in his ear.

“Take me home, shadowsinger.”

And they winnowed away into the night, as fast as the spirits had traveled across the midnight sky.

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

Fever Dream

(Written for @sicktember prompt #1 - Fever! I finished it in time for the first but didn't have the energy to edit.)

--

Angels didn’t get sick, precisely

They didn’t have bodies that were, strictly speaking, physical, and therefore couldn’t harbor any of the illnesses that plagued mankind and other earthly creatures.

An angel could, however, burn through enough of his own grace that his corporation began to malfunction.

He would then, as it were, fall ill.

This happened to Aziraphale far more often than to other angels.

A weak constitution was the general explanation; too much time mucking about on the strange old planet, not enough time bathing in the glorious healing light of the celestial sphere.

When he was down on Earth, he was always prying, poking, trying new things, many of which had never been approved, could have any manner of ill effects. He knew he should show some proper restraint, withdraw a bit more from the world, but he couldn’t help himself.

And when he did return to huddle miserably in a recovery ward, waiting for the chills to pass and his temperature to stabilize, Gabriel would always visit, dropping broad hints about the pressures of fieldwork and the under appreciated glory of a solid administrative career. Offering all kinds of advice as to what, exactly, a proper angel would cut out of his life if he wished to better focus on his ordained duties.

And so, when the symptoms next came upon him—muscle aches, irritability, sweat and chills until he didn’t know if he was hot or cold—Aziraphale decided to wait it out on Earth. It would only take a few days to recover and, anyway, he had business to attend to. Important business that could not wait.

“Angel, are you sure you’re alright?” Crowley demanded, a glint of gold just visible between black lenses and furrowed brow.

“Yes, I’m perf—” he turned his head to cough lightly, but an odd spasm came over his throat, transforming it into something deep and hacking that left his ribs aching and his brow dripping with sweat. “…tickety-boo,” he muttered, turning back to his mug.

“Keep it down,” hissed the demon, glancing around the common room of the inn. Perhaps one or two people had glanced over, but nothing out of the ordinary. “People will think you have the plague.” The last two words he barely mouthed.

“My dear fellow, do be serious. I have hardly any symptoms of the plague.” Only the last part sounded more like sybtobs otha blayyyg.

He cleared his throat and tried to sniff, which started a complicated chain reaction that ended with a mouthful of what he hoped was spit.

As Aziraphale’s eyes went wide with alarm, Crowley quickly pulled out a deep red handkerchief, which the angel gratefully spat into. Unsure what to do next, Aziraphale folded it over and offered it back, but Crowley leaned away, face contorted in horror.

“Oh, ah… thank you, then?” He took a quick glance inside and immediately wished he hadn’t, grimacing at the color of what his body had produced.

“Just… just eat your soup,” Crowley muttered, waving a hand at the bowl he’d been toying with until it was hardly above room temperature.

Aziraphale had ordered it thinking a bit of warmth would be lovely, as he’d been shivering fit for midwinter morning. But after one mouthful, he’d found himself sweating, tugging at his collar to relieve some of the heat. Now he could feel the shivers coming on again, but he couldn’t warm it back up. Until the illness passed, any miracles would just make it worse.

“Right,” Crowley said as Aziraphale poked at something that might have been a parsnip. “I’m going to be out of town for the next few weeks. Temptations all up and down the continent. Might take the rest of the season. Unless…” Using that lilting voice that suggested a coin flip might be imminent.

“Mmmh.” Aziraphale looked mournfully into his beer, finally hazarding another sip. The taste of hops struck him at the back of the throat and he quickly expelled the rest back into the mug. “Sorry, m’dear. Not this time. I got…” he waved his hand, waiting for the rest of the words. They didn’t appear to be forthcoming. “Things,” he finally said. “In the city. Until at least…” He rubbed his forehead, but it was hard to think when it was so cold. He pulled his heavy coat back on, bundling up.

“Oh, well. Things. Obviously can’t take you away from things.” Aziraphale nodded miserably, trying to focus on his bowl. “Angel, look,” and as Crowley leaned close, there was something new in his voice, something that sounded rather like concern. “You sure you’re alright? I mean, there’s nothing… nobody…”

Aziraphale blinked, his eyes feeling… sticky. What was Crowley getting at? He should really be more direct, clever Serpent, it was hard enough to think in all this heat. He struggled out of his coat, dabbing uselessly at the sweat on his forehead.

“Oh for Satan’s—are you cursed?” He hissed the last word even softer than he’d said plague.

“No,” the angel said, resting his head on his hand until his neck recovered enough strength to hold it up again. “M’not. S’just… things!”

In his attempt to gesture with both hands, Aziraphale forgot one was already occupied and very nearly wound up face-first in the soup.

“Azir—!” Crowley rounded the table in an instant, tugging him upright again. “What has come over you?”

“S’rry. People staring? S’not… not… proper.”

“Angel, you’re—you’re burning up!”

“Not. S’cold.” Then an icy hand touched his forehead and cheek, and Aziraphale groaned, trying to pull away.

“What the Heaven is going on?”

“Toldya. Things. Illness. From… from…” he tried to gesture with one arm, but it weighed too much to lift. “Being a… bad angel…”

A heavy sigh. “C’mere, you.” Crowley hauled him to his feet.

Aziraphale was pleased to find he could stand, just that his spinning head and aching limbs made it unpleasant. He couldn’t remember where he was supposed to go, but there was something solid nearby to lean on and a hand on his waist, guiding him forward.

It wasn’t until they reached the stairs that he realized something wasn’t right. “Crowley! This is—we—we can’t—where—what are you—”

“I’ve got a room upstairs.”

Aziraphale squinted dimly towards the upper floor. “Yes…?”

“Yes. And you, Angel, are in need of a bed.”

But.

But it was improper! Scandalous, even, talking of rooms, and beds, or rooms andbeds, or any combination thereof, particularly in the singular form. What if someone saw? An angel and a demon, bad enough, but two allegedly respectable gentlemen?

Or, wait, was one of them currently presenting as a woman? Likely not Aziraphale, though he sometimes lost track, but Crowley, well, that could also be hard to tell, but he seemed to have a good amount of jewelry and no facial hair, so there was a chance.

Still, male or female, angel or human, there would be rumor, gossip, talk about the town! It would get back to Heaven! This was worse than being thought weak and improper, Gabriel would think him some sort of reprobate!

Crowley paused, one hand on a door. “This is me. Um. I’ll go back down if it makes you feel better.”

What? And have all the rumor with none of the satisfaction? The shame of spending a night in a demon’s bed without the pleasures—oh, he knew what Crowley got up to. One of the Seven Sins that was, and Aziraphale would not be tempted into joining. No, not he!

“Right. Nh. Going to help you out of some of these layers, then I’ll go.”

Go? Go?After Aziraphale had come all this way, come so very close? No, he’d spent centuries imagining how it would be, and he’d never be truly satisfied until he had a reality to compare it to. Aziraphale very much wanted to know what Crowley looked like while he slept.

Yes, Crowley, Sloth is one of the Seven Sins, a demon should know these things.

And while Aziraphale had the general idea clear enough, he still had questions. Did Crowley snore, or did he breathe softly? He certainly would sleep on his side, curled up, but how heavy would his head be, pillowed on Aziraphale’s chest? If they talked, would his words become slurred as he drifted off, or would he listen quietly while Aziraphale spoke, running his fingers through bright red hair?

Come to that, how did his hair feel, or his cheek, or his lips? Aziraphale hadn’t thought much about lips, generally, but now that Crowley was always hiding his eyes, well, they had become the focus of his face, and that presented fascinating possibilities, ones that Gabriel certainly wouldn’t approve of, but he’d always been too curious for his own good. And really, what was a harmless little experiment between—

Oh, good Lord, was Aziraphale talking out loud?

He clapped his hand over his mouth, eyes wide with horror.

But Crowley chuckled, resting a hand on his shoulder; in only his undershirt, he could feel it so clearly—ice cold, but not unpleasantly so. “Your secrets are safe, Angel. Lay down.”

Too embarrassed to object, Aziraphale crawled into the bed and let Crowley pull a blanket over him. “Keep that on, yeah?”

“S’hot,” the angel whined. His voice sounded very odd, slurred, weak. Perhaps that meant Crowley hadn’t understood his rambling before.

“I know. Just try.” Something cool and damp wiped his face and Aziraphale sighed with relief. “Has this happened before?”

“Mmmh. Over an’over an’over.” In Heaven, they would assign him a recovery room, to sit alone and reflect on what he’d done to earn himself the illness, on what he could do to better serve in the future. Gabriel always had good suggestions.

The being alone. That was the worst part. Hated that.

Crowley was talking. Something would be right there, beside the bed. That was probably important, but the angel was already asleep.

In Aziraphale’s dream, Gabriel told him over and over that he’d failed again, that this was his own fault, that he was a terrible angel who didn’t deserve… something.

Possibly anything.Again and again, the Archangel took everything he valued—his books, his sweets, his day at the theater, the beauty of the sunrise, the way humans smiled at each other after many days apart, and something else, something far more important, but the name was forbidden—

Again, something cool pressed to his forehead, his chest. Fingers raked through his hair, helping the sweat to evaporate. “See?” A voice murmured. “Better already.” But everything was getting grey and distant again.

Now Aziraphale was in a room, an enormous room, empty but somehow still cluttered. All the things he loved were here, hidden, and Gabriel ordered him to find them all or they’d be destroyed. He searched frantically, among endless piles of brown packages, and found most of them—books and smiles and sunrises—mixed in with kettles, mittens and (for some reason) cat whiskers. But the last thing, the final thing, the important thing was still missing, and the room grew hotter and hotter—

“Try this now.” Something supported Aziraphale’s back as he sat up, leaning against… a thing… a thing that meant warmth and safety. A mug pressed to his lips. He wasn’t sure what he drank, but it felt good. “Now let’s get you settled again.”

He didn’t go down easily, though, reaching and writhing, somehow grasping the safe thing, pulling it close. If he let it get away, Gabriel would destroy it.

“I see. Alright. You stay there.” Fingers through his hair again, more resting lightly on his shoulder. “I got you. Nothing’s going to—”

Reality tumbled away and he was falling, possibly Falling, the voices of Gabriel and Michael and Uriel all around him, insulting him, taunting him, asking him why he hadn’t filed form HX-3 in triplicate. He clung desperately to the thing he needed as the temperature rose, more voices joining in, every voice. The Hellfire licked at him, even as he trembled and shook uncontrollably. This was the end, he would die here, he’d never said—

“Crowley!” He called, desperate. “Crowley don’t—don’t leave me!”

The thing he held shifted, and now there were arms wrapped around him, protecting him. “There we are. Not going to leave.”

It was too hot to bear, but still he burrowed closer. “Crowley, please. I can’t—I—I need you!”

“Not going anywhere, Angel. Not ever.”

“Crowley!” The Hellfire burst within him, a flash of heat up and down his body, his limbs, his soul—

And then he was… exhausted.

The shaking faded, the heat and cold gone, though he still found himself covered in sweat. Nothing remained but a strange sense of calm.

Still clinging to his lifeline, Aziraphale drifted off into a proper restful sleep.

He opened his eyes to find the late evening sun slanting through an open window. The blanket was largely twisted around his legs and the bed below him was oddly hard and lumpy, even if it was nice—

“You’re looking better.”

Aziraphale scrambled up in horror to find that the thing he’d been laying on—clinging to for dear life—was six feet of rumpled, uncomfortable-looking demon. A demon he vaguely recalled saying some very revealing things to…

“Oh, good Lord.” Aziraphale’s face burned again, but not from fever. He covered, his eyes turning away. “Crowley—you—you—how—”

“Gah! M’sorry!” He heard Crowley push himself upright, sliding away. “I—I—I shouldn’t have—didn’t mean—”

No of course not. It wasn’t as though Crowley shared his strange desires, his secret obsessions, his awful curiosity. Crowley was a—a perfectly normal demon who would have no interest in prolonged contact, particularly with a most clingy, damaged angel…

“What must you think of me?” he moaned.

“Stupid, stupid demon,” Crowley grumbled. “I saw you panicking but I didn’t know—shouldn’t have assumed—”

“What is wrong with me?”

“Crossed a line, and—and now look—”

“I’m a terrible, foolish, needy…”

“Didn’t want to take advantage—I’m sorry!”

“I’m sorry! Wait…” That wasn’t right. Aziraphale cautiously lowered his hands to see Crowley sitting frozen with the glasses halfway to his face. “You’re sorry?”

“Mnh. Yeah. Cuz… cuz I’m the one who…” his eyes dropped. “You seemed upset. Scared. I just… I made it worse, didn’t I? Shoulda known you wouldn’t want…”

“But…” Aziraphale swallowed, trying to recall anything clearly. “I… I seem to remember… propositioning you. Repeatedly.”

Crowley’s face turned red, but he smiled. Not his confident swaggering smirk, but something awkward and genuine that Aziraphale hadn’t seen since Eden. “Not… repeatedly. N’I’d hardly call it… besides it was… you know. But!” His fingers twisted on the metal frames of his glasses. “But, look—I don’t—you aren’t responsible for—for the things you say when you’re sick, ‘specially things you don’t mean—and I—s’my responsibility not to—” He ducked his head even further. “Just wanted to help. Shouldn’t have assumed… that you meant… what I wanted…”

“What…” Aziraphale reached out but couldn’t quite touch him. “What you want?”

“Um.” Golden eyes flicked up. “You’re… not the only one who wondered about… the sleeping stuff. Who doesn’t like to be… alone.” He cleared his throat. “Or, at least, I thought—”

“I believe I told you I needed you.” His hand hovered over Crowley’s shoulder. “I meant that. Precisely the way you took it. I—I meant most of it.”

Crowley’s eyes blinked, very slowly.

And the next moment, they were swept into each other’s arms, Aziraphale once again clinging to his friend like a lifeline. “I don’t think you’re stupid,” he managed.

“I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.”

“Thank you,” Aziraphale pressed closer. “Thank you for staying.”

When they broke apart, Crowley was as bright red as Aziraphale had felt at the height of his fever, glasses back in place, staring fixedly at his own legs. “So. Mmmmh. Now what?”

Aziraphale considered that question more carefully than he’d ever considered anything.

“I think… I’m recovering…”

“S’good.” Crowley shifted as if to stand.

“…but still very tired. I should probably rest another night?”

“Yeah. Um. Yeah. Do you—I can go?”

“Do you have somewhere to be?” His heart started to fall, until Crowley shrugged.

“I do, but… not urgently.”

“If you have the time there’s… there’s something I’m curious about.”

“Well. Big fan of knowledge, me.”

Aziraphale carefully lay down again, keeping his arms wide. A moment later, Crowley took a deep breath, set aside his glasses and joined him.

It turned out that Crowley’s head on his chest was the perfect weight. That he did indeed curl up, though in the most convoluted ways. That in his sleep, Crowley’s breaths were gentle and soft, much like his hair, and he tried very much to keep talking on the edge of consciousness even when he didn’t have much to say.

As for the kissing, well—certain observations did not need to be made public.

(AO3 link later today...)

[aetherarf]

hi! i love the way you write so much ❤️ Could i request somethjng with Childe and reader (who’s also a fatui harbinger and has known him since childhood) taking care of him after he overexerts himself with his Foul legacy transformation? sorry if this is too vague its ok if you don’t feel like it but thank you in advance take care of yourself!

This is plenty descriptive! Ty for the compliment! Btw yes the request to post right after this one is super similar so,,, yeah. that's coincidental.

Also tbh sort of thinking of it as a very very slow friends-to-lovers so have a fun confession and childe's brain bluescreening

[[ WARNING: ANGST, GORE ]]

[[ Summary: A longing for battle, refusing to accept ones limitations, and a degree of general insanity, all lead to Childe nearly dying in your arms.

Word Count: 1'380 ]]

It happened all too fast.

It wasn't uncommon for those who disbelieved in the Tsaritsa to try and rebel against her and her Harbingers, and all the Fatui. Most of them ended up dying off, only well after they realized that not only did they need the Tsaritsa to not suffer a horrific, Archonless fate, but that there were far more prepared to protect her.

It didn't mean there weren't casualties.

More than a few had seen you and Childe on a mission, away from those who could assist you, and thought you to be easy prey, either simply to kill, or to use against the Tsaritsa.

But Childe lived for a fight, and you wouldn't give up, you wouldn't let him fight alone.

A living soul turned into a corpse before you, you could only stare at it fell to the ground... Sorrowful that you had to kill someone who fought for what they believed in, but you had no choice.

You spun around, and your eyes widened in horror as not only did you see Childe surrounded, but shortly after--a chaos of lightning and light, exploding the bodies surrounding him in countless directions, but they weren't dead, the monstrous form standing their, head flung back with an inhuman, horrific cackle as he held the weapon made of pure electro energy, looking at those who still lived, a massive maw opening and letting out a deafening shriek--

Those who could still flee ran in terror, and those who did not were slaughtered swiftly, not given the time to feel the fear of death or agony as their bodies were sliced open.

And he turned his gaze to you.

"Chi-Childe... Ajax, calm down," you said, knowing that you couldn't fight him like this, "You need to get out of that-that form, it's going to hurt you."

However, he didn't respond, and his one eye was completely unreadable as he walked closer, staring at you...

And you stepped back, until you tripped over a corpse, landing on your back.

He kept approaching, and fell to one knee before you, leaning closer, and nearly crawling atop you, staring at you with the eye that could only remind you of the dead gods.

"Ajax--Please!"

And with that, the eye flickered, and he collapsed atop you. You had the air forced out of your lungs with the weight, but the hard, cold, mask-like face soon turned to yielding flesh, and the straw-like hair was now just fluffy, pleasant...

As you looked down at Childe, lying atop you, it looked like he was covered in stardust, that cursed form gone...

But while his eyes were open, he was clearly not conscious-

"Childe, Tartaglia, Ajax, please-" You sat up, trying to shake him, but his head lolled like a corpse...

You couldn't cry. Crying was risking too much. You could hear him breathing, and with your fingers on his neck, you could feel his pulse, as disturbingly slow as it might be.

You couldn't cry, you hoisted him onto your back, dragging him towards anyone-anyone who could help him, heal him...

You knew that this form-it hurt him, it destroyed him, little by little. Usually, he would give himself time to recover...

But what would happen when he had used it so often, back to back? Would it end up turning his insides to mush, as he had warned you about long ago?

...

It was a long fight, against the cold winter of Snezhnaya. You were more than familiar with, but it didn't make it any less agonizing.

A long drag to get him to an, admittedly, small Fatui Soldier encampment. A few communications later, you were with him as you returned to the Zapolyarny Palace, where the best healers and doctors in Snezhnaya, dare you say all of Teyvat, would stay, to take care of the Tsaritsa's Harbingers, and herself, of course, should she ever suffer even a minor cut or bruise.

It took hours. Hours of examinations, you sitting silently, weeping as the guards, as everyone simply did not look at you, not wanting to call attention to your agony...

Ajax, you thought, You can't keep hurting me like this.

Were you selfish, for his pain hurting you this way, as well?

Finally, you were able to sit beside him as he rested, not having woken up from it.

"He's severely injured, but he'll live."

You wanted to rip him to shreds, to scold him for what he was doing, throwing himself into the fight and wrecking himself for-what, glory? Fame? Some sort of hero complex?

But as you watched him lie there, you couldn't say mad. You just hurt. You were tired, so tired.

You'd wait.

And eventually, as you were all but falling asleep in the chair...

"Mhph. I feel like shit."

You woke up from your daze, looking at him--He was lying in bed, looking at his arms that had bandages, needles pressed into his flesh and connected to tubes. He didn't pull at them, but he set his fingertips over it.

You smacked his hand away from it-"Ow," he looked over at you, smiling in a daze, "Oh. Hi, I didn't know you were here. I missed you."

"... You idiot."

"I'm your idiot~" Even as weak as he was, he gave you a hearthrobbingly charming smile.

"You can't do these things," you said, voice quivering but fighting to be stern, "And still smile like that."

"Well joke's on you, I don't remember what happened," he said--he was, painfully, genuine.

"You nearly killed yourself is what happened!" You snapped, and then recoiled as you saw his eyes widen in shock-he couldn't even flinch. "I shouldn't have yelled, but... You used your Foul Legacy. Again. You-You just blacked out on top of me."

He stared at you, then turned his head to stare at the ceiling.

"So I did," he said, as though unsure of the events, "How long have I been out?"

You hesitated.

"Fourty-seven hours."

"Fuh-" He stared at you, "Fourty-seven? Have you slept at all? You look worse than I feel, and..." He coughed weakly, "I feel horrible."

"No, because-I'm mad at you, and I was scared," you said, genuinely, tears gathering in your eyes, "I love you and you just-you just keep doing this, you keep hurting yourself, I... I can't keep watching it."

Childe stared, and weakly, he pushed himself up, staring at you.

"You love me?"

You groaned, of course that's all he cared about,

"Of course I do! I'm-I'm so tired, Childe, of hurting every night, thinking I said my last goodbye. You never think about how you might hurt other people when you-you use that stupid fucking curse," you sobbed, weakly, too exhausted to openly cry.

He flopped onto his back... and he was quiet.

Both of you were.

Eventually, he scooted over, and he held his arms open.

"Can... Can we talk about this later? I want to die-ahem, I feel like I'm... I feel like death and You haven't slept in over two days."

You sigh, "Yeah, I'll go-"

"I didn't say go," He shifted his arms, emphasizing how he was holding them open for you. "Come on. Cuddle me. You know I love cuddling, and I almost died, don't I deserve it?" He asked, smiling sweetly.

"You deserve to be left alone to think about your actions?"

"... Please?" He asked, again, giving you puppy-dog eyes... and you sighed.

Well, at least you probably wouldn't accidentally bump anything that was monitoring him. You, delicately, crawled into the small bed with him, and he wrapped his arms around you, limply, and relaxed into the bed.

"Can we do this again?" He asks, barely a whisper.

"I'll do it whenever you want," you said, nuzzling up to him.

"What if I asked for it everyday?"

"Then everyday."

"Every night? With a kiss?"

"... then every night, with a kiss."

"Can I get a kiss now?"

You huffed, "Are you sure you want our first kiss to be when you're half dead?"

"Absolutely. It's a good story."

Instead of argue any longer... you pressed a chaste but sweet kiss to his lips... and he smiled, eyes half-lidded as he looked like he was dazed, dizzy, but oh-so-pleased.

"Happy?"

"Very. I love you."

"... I love you too."

[morganaspendragonss]

Hello, fic request coming through if you are still doing them! Okay, Carlos has not been feeling well so he stays in and doesn't go to his shift. TK still has his shift, so he wants to stay with Carlos to keep an eye on him but Carlos says he is fine. TK is uneasy at work just wants to go back home, he calls Carlos but he is not answering. Tommy says TK can go check up on Carlos, while he is at home, he finds Carlos in bed and when he goes closer, Carlos is not breathing. Paramedic!TK coming through. Super angst ensues but Carlos makes it in the end after some time in a coma.

holly's august extravaganza day 25: heaving through corrupted lungs

thank you for the prompt!

thanks also to @noxsoulmate for the beta! 💚

ao3 | 2.9k | major character illness, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, brief references to past, canonical character death

“Strand, I know we’re not on a call right now, but you could at least pretend to be focused.”

TK flushes as Tommy’s somewhat less-than amused voice reaches him from the back of the ambulance. He hurriedly locks his phone and shoves it in the glove compartment, though not before checking every messaging app he has for word from Carlos.

There’s none, of course, just like it’s been all day. Logically, he knows Carlos is probably sleeping—god knows he needs it—but that isn’t going to stop him from worrying, or from sending check-up texts every ten minutes. It does, however, stop Carlos from answering, which isn’t very conducive to TK’s ability to concentrate on work today.

“Sorry, Cap,” he says. “It’s just—”

“Carlos is sick and you’re being paranoid, as usual,” Nancy chimes in, audibly rolling her eyes from the driver’s seat. “Look, dude, if he said he’s fine, then he’s probably fine.”

“Well, I’m the paramedic in the relationship, and I say he’s not fine.” TK sighs and forces himself to resist the urge to pull out his phone again. “Carlos likes to lecture me about hiding injuries, but he’s exactly the same when he’s ill; he could be on death’s door and still saying he’s okay. But he hasn’t said anything today, so I’m worried.”

“You’re always worried about him.”

“Welcome to relationships,” Tommy comments. “Seriously though, TK, are you going to be okay to finish this shift? There’s still ten hours to go and we cannot afford for you to be distracted out there.”

TK doesn’t answer right away; on one hand, he’s itching to go home and check on Carlos, to make sure he’s still breathing and actually resting like he’s supposed to be. On the other hand, Carlos would probably kill him if he left work, illness be damned. It’s just… Carlos had looked so ill that morning, skin ashen and voice all but gone, and it had taken a lot of convincing for TK to still go to his own shift. He’d insisted on making sure Carlos had all the blankets and water and snacks and anything else he could possibly want, but even so, he’s still uneasy.

His gut is telling him that something’s wrong, and TK doesn’t think he can ignore it for much longer.

He’s staring out the window, considering his options, when he realises that he knows these streets. Like, actually knows them. They’re right around the corner from his and Carlos’s home, and an idea strikes TK like a lightning bolt.

“Hey, Cap?” he asks, twisting around in his seat to look at her. “How about we take a lunch break now instead of driving all the way back to the station? There’s a great place nearby, and it’s less likely that we’ll be interrupted by a call before we get food.”

Tommy eyes him suspiciously, clearly not buying his innocent act. “What are you talking about, TK?”

“Mine and Carlos’s place is literally two streets away; we could drop by and I could check in on him and make sure he’s okay. Plus,” he continues, already spotting the argument on Tommy’s face, “I’m not lying about the food. Carlos cooks in bulk, so we’ve got loads of leftover casserole in the freezer.”

Tommy pauses, indecision clear in her expression. She narrows her eyes at TK, scrutinising him. “Will this mean you’ll stop being so distracted?”

“Absolutely.”

“Alright.” She sighs and nods, and Nancy switches directions to head towards their home. “I’m holding you to that, Strand.”

TK spends the entire drive, short as it is, drumming his fingers on his knees and trying to keep the ever-growing panic at bay. Carlos is going to be fine.

He has to be.

He jumps out the ambulance before Nancy’s even fully stopped it, cursing himself as he fumbles with his keys. Tommy pats his shoulder soothingly; it doesn’t really calm him down, but TK appreciates the effort and her unconditional support. When he gets inside, he simply waves a hand in the general direction of the freezer, hoping Tommy and Nancy get the message, and barrels upstairs, Carlos’s name bursting from his lips.

“Carlos, babe, you here?” It’s a stupid question; TK had seen the Camaro in the driveway and Carlos is far too ill to want to walk anywhere—or so TK hopes—so he has to be home. But the silence draws out, and TK’s heart is pounding a mile a minute by the time he reaches the door to their bedroom.

“Carlos?” He pushes open the door, sighing in relief when he sees his fiancé sprawled across the bed, dead to the world. It’s a little weird that he hasn’t woken up yet given how loud TK was shouting, but it’s probably just because his body needs the rest. TK would bet that the apocalypse could happen outside the window and Carlos wouldn’t so much as stir.

He tip-toes towards the bed, a soft smile spreading across his lips as anxiety gives way to fondness and love. It’s not until he’s within touching distance of Carlos that he registers just how still he is; just how silent the room is.

This morning, Carlos’s breathing was loud and harsh, punctuated with periodic sniffs and coughs.

Now, he’s not making a sound.

And, as TK drops to his knees and bends over his fiancé’s body, he realises that his chest isn’t moving.

Carlos isn’t breathing.

The panic is back in full force as TK frantically presses his fingers to Carlos’s pulse point, praying for something—a flutter, anything—to indicate that Carlos isn’t… That he’s not…

There’s nothing.

Instinct takes over, TK linking his hands on Carlos’s chest and starting compressions even as his vision blurs with tears and he chokes on the sobs building in his throat.

“Cap!” he yells, not taking his eyes off Carlos. “Cap, up here!”

A minute later, Tommy and Nancy burst into the room, both halting in shock for a moment before jumping into action. Nancy moves to the other side of the bed, already pulling out the ambu bag, while Tommy comes to stand by TK.

“What do we have?” she asks, professional as ever, though there’s a clear worried undertone to her voice.

“No pulse, no respiration,” he manages, voice thick. “Skin is warm to the touch. No clear cause, but patient was congested and moderately feverish during the past few days.”

Tommy nods and gently pushes at TK’s shoulder. “Alright, you did good, TK, but you should let us take over now,” she says gently. “Come on, Nancy and I can handle this.”

TK ignores her, continuing compressions with renewed force. “I have to help him, Cap. I have to.”

“And you have, but now—”

“No!” Later, TK will be ashamed of the way he lost control like that, and he’ll have to apologise to Tommy, but the only thing he can really, truly focus on now is Carlos. He keeps pushing, feeling Carlos’s ribs give under his hands, and forces himself to keep going even though his stomach turns at the idea of causing him any pain. “Come on, baby,” he mutters. “Come on, Carlos, please.”

Time is running out; TK can tell by the way the silence is starting to feel heavier and heavier, by the looks he knows Tommy and Nancy must be exchanging over his head. Carlos’s time is running out, and TK is staring down a future he doesn’t know he can survive, and—

“I have a pulse!” Nancy shouts, and the words don’t register in TK’s head until Tommy’s hands are forcibly pulling him back and Carlos’s chest is moving and his eyelids start to flutter.

Tommy slides into the space left by TK, practiced hands checking Carlos’s vitals. “Carlos, can you hear me?”

She gets no response save for a weak groan, then Carlos’s body goes slack again and his head lolls limply on the pillow. TK takes a panicked step forward, but he’s just as quickly pushed back as Tommy secures an oxygen mask over Carlos’s face.

“Nancy, get the backboard and the gurney ready. Heart rate is arrhythmic and respiration is laboured; radio Austin Memorial and get their cardiac unit on standby.”

Nancy dashes out of the bedroom, and Tommy grabs her own radio. “Dispatch, this is RA 126 responding to a cardiac event at 2204 Allred Drive. Patient is unconscious and breathing, however at the time of arrival, he was in cardiac arrest. Duration unknown.”

“Copy that, RA 126.”

Nancy arrives with the backboard, and TK feels like an invisible observer as he watches his two teammates work. He’s stuck, barely breathing, as he watches Carlos struggle and fight for his life; he doesn’t know what he’s going to do if he dies, here and now.

TK moves as if in a nightmare as they get Carlos down the stairs and into the ambulance, eyes constantly locked on his fiancé. He thinks Tommy might say something to him, but he doesn’t hear it and he doesn’t bother to ask—terrible as it is to admit, he doesn’t care right now. He can’t care; there’s no more room inside him for anything else but Carlos.

He wraps a hand around Carlos’s wrist, two fingers resting on his pulse point, and prays that he’ll never have to feel that absence again.

*

Tommy sits beside him in the waiting room, a silent show of support while they wait for news on Carlos. Or until they catch another call; whichever comes first. Nancy is…somewhere. TK thinks she might have gone to grab some coffee or a snack, but he honestly has no idea. He’s kind of lost track of things, the hospital’s plain white walls turning time into water as they wait, and wait, and wait.

“I know how you feel, you know,” Tommy says, unprompted. “The night that Charles died, I… I spent so long blaming myself. I wasn’t there, you know? And I just kept thinking that if I had been there, if I hadn’t stayed out at Grace and Judd’s, then I might have been able to do something to save him.” She levels him with a firm, yet motherly look, and TK drops his gaze to the floor. “I know now that there was nothing. It kills me to admit it, but what happened would have happened either way, and it’s the same here. Carlos is young, healthy—there was no reason to suspect anything might happen. Certainly nothing like this. You did everything that you could, TK, and you have to hold onto that, no matter what the outcome.”

TK squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head, giving up on keeping the tears at bay. Tommy reaches out to wrap one arm around him, but he jerks away, curling in on himself. “It’s not the same,” he whispers, voice thick. “It’s not— I knew, Cap. I knew he was ill and I still left him.”

“You said you guys thought it was just a bad cold.”

“No, I knew. I’m a paramedic, how could I have missed this?”

“These things happen, TK,” she says softly. “It’s cruel, and it’s senseless, and, more than anything, it’s unavoidable. We can go in circles blaming ourselves for it—and I know it’s worse for us; we think we should be able to see everything because it’s our job, right?

“The thing is, we’re the most blind when it comes to the people we love. We think we see everything and we always worry over them, but ultimately we just want to believe that everything’s going to be okay. That they’re going to be okay. It’s hard to accept when they’re not.”

“I should have done more.”

“You did all you cou—”

“No, I didn’t.” He lets out a sob, twisting away from Tommy’s touch once more when she tries to comfort him. “I should have insisted on staying home; I should have thought about going to check on him earlier. We have no idea how long he was lying there, dead—he was dead, Tommy—before we arrived, but if I had been there then I could have gotten him help.”

TK takes a shuddering breath and looks up at his captain, meeting her eyes for the first time since they were in the ambulance. “Tommy, if he dies, then I swear I’ll never forgive myself. Never.”

Tommy looks like she wants to say more, but just as she opens her mouth, her radio crackles to life. She sighs regretfully but stands, clasping TK’s shoulder gently.

“He’ll be okay, TK. Believe in that.”

*

Looking at Carlos, TK has never believed in anything less. He’s so still and pale on the bed and TK keeps having to check that his chest is still moving, despite the steady beep of the heart monitor and the constant thrum against his fingertips. He hasn’t let go of Carlos’s wrist since he was allowed into the room, and he doesn’t intend to let go until Carlos is back with him, awake and alive and okay.

He’s trying to believe in that outcome as a certainty, but he knows better than that. Carlos might be young and healthy, but the fact still remains that his heart stopped—coming back from that is far from guaranteed.

It’s been three days since the incident, and Carlos’s parents have been in and out, always bringing TK food and trying to engage him in conversation. He tries, for them, but it’s not easy and the attempts always fizzle out before long; TK just doesn’t have it in him anymore to talk and pretend to be positive. Any hope he ever had has abandoned him, the only thing keeping him afloat his grip around Carlos’s wrist.

A tupperware container drops into his lap, and TK looks up to see Andrea standing over him. She reaches across to caress Carlos’s cheek, then sinks into the chair beside TK, giving him a pointed look.

He sighs, attempting a weak smile for her. “I appreciate it, Andrea, but—”

“No,” she interrupts, shaking her head firmly. “No more buts; I won’t hear them. My son might not be able to make sure you take care of yourself, but I am more than capable of taking over for him. I am very strict about food, ask any of his sisters.” Her stern look softens and she pats his arm gently. “Venga, mijo. You’ll feel better for it.”

TK looks down at the dish in his lap, doing his best to keep a grimace off his face. It looks and smells delicious, like all of Andrea’s cooking, but the sight of it makes his stomach turn, his gag reflex activating at the very thought of putting any in his mouth.

“Andrea, I…” He shakes his head and picks the container up with his free hand, handing it back to her. “I can’t.”

And it’s not just that TK can’t handle any food at the moment, though that certainly plays into it.

But they’re tamales.

The Reyes family recipe tamales, passed down through generations, which Carlos has been slowly attempting to teach TK. Which Carlos always makes on special occasions, and sometimes just for the hell of it.

Which Carlos made the night he proposed.

Andrea looks set to argue, but TK forces an end to the conversation by making her take the container and turning back to Carlos.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, knowing he’s disappointed her. “It’s just hard.”

She sighs and rubs his back. “I know. Just don’t come to me when Carlos wakes up and realises you haven’t been taking care of yourself.”

That almost gets a laugh out of him, and TK looks over to smile at Andrea. It’s a brittle thing, but it’s a smile all the same, which is more than he’s managed in three days. She smiles back at him, and it helps him feel not so alone in all this.

A weak groan is all the warning he gets before, “Are you turning down my mother’s cooking?” reaches his ears, and TK gasps, whipping around to stare at the bed.

Right into Carlos’s eyes.

“Oh my god,” he gasps, tears springing to his eyes. “Oh my god.”

“Hey, baby.” Carlos’s voice is rough and rasping, his eyes fluttering closed again a second later, though TK can tell that he’s still awake. He reaches to the table and pours a cup of water, encouraging Carlos to lift his head and drink through the straw.

“Slow sips, that’s it,” he murmurs, rubbing his thumb gently along Carlos’s wrist, still holding on tightly.

Once Carlos has drunk his fill, he opens his eyes again and looks up at TK, gaze searching his face. “I love you,” he rasps, smiling gently, “but did you really just say no to my mom’s tamales?”

TK splutters, but he can’t keep the smile off his own face, shaking his head fondly at Carlos. “I love you too, idiot,” he says. “And tamales don’t taste the same without you there to eat them with me.”

“Good thing I’m here now, then.”

TK hums. “Guess it is.”

(Later, after the nurses and doctors have come and gone, TK will pick up the tub of tamales, left behind by Andrea when she went to tell everyone the good news.

He and Carlos will split one, pressed close together in the bed to avoid getting crumbs on the sheets. Carlos will be smiling at him the entire time, and TK will kiss him over and over, relishing the sensation of Carlos kissing him back.

And it’ll be the best damn tamale TK has ever eaten.)

[germvity]

RISES THE MOON

leon s kennedy x reader // 5 // blue blood

the officer sighs, keeping you close as he slowly starts to settle himself. eventually, leon falls asleep himself, rolling over with you so you were between him and the wall of the shack. you mumble incoherently at the movement, eyelids fluttering as you stir. yet, leon's deep breathing and soothing heartbeat makes you fall asleep once more.

genre: angst with fluff

tags: nemesis 👺, he's stinky, david being a bully 2.0, leon being a sweetheart, he cares, jill being a good friend <3, might rewrite this chapter maybe bc i just know im gonna skip a few paragraphs to get this out a bit earlier :(

warnings: bullying, hitting/beatings, crying, confession swerves, mild heartbreak bc i hate myself </3

tag list <3

@trinswhimsys , @hex-touchstarved (ily mutual <3)

---

you woke up with a harsh headache and no recollection of what happened the night before, tears stinging your eyes as you crouch down to work on the dirty generator in front of you. the wires singed your fingertips, and you hiss, pulling away right as the generator let out a skull splitting bang. your head ached as your heartbeat picked up, and you darted from the machine and into the gas station with nemesis now hot on your tail. "fuck.." you whine, just your luck that he would be on you first. you throw down a pallet with urgency, gasping as his tentacle slashes a deep infection into you. you splutter, blue blood oozing down your body as you cough into your arm. vaulting the window was easy, but unfortunately the killer's appendage is much longer than you thought as it whips your back, leaving behind a nasty gash.

fortunately, a pallet was nestled between two cars and you ran for it, managing to stun the greedy monster before scrambling to safety. "fuck.." you whine, coughing up some blue sludge as you quickly hide in your surroundings. the nemesis walks past you angrily, storming away and leaving you for a moments peace. you spot a white box's aura nearby, and it beckoned you over the the feeling of safety. you round the corner and see it sat there, and crouch down to snap the flimsy lock. you raise the vial carefully out of the foam in the case, sighing in relief before a rough hand snatches the scruff of your shirt. you yelp in surprise as david throws you to the ground, the vaccine rolls away from you and you reach for it. "you fucker! i never lose a fight!" david roars, kicking your stomach firmly. you cry out in pain, curling up into a tight ball to try and avoid david hitting any vulnerable spots. "i hate you! i hate you so much..!" the fighter continues, but now crouches down to pull you from your protective position. he punches you roughly and you wail in pain as blood bursts from your nose.

"leon!" you scream, hoping he was in this trial to help you. "leon! help me!" you cry out again, and david's cruel laughter finds your ears. "that pretty boy isn't here." he grins, giving you another punch before a pair of hands grab him. "what the-?!" the zombie cuts him off, teeth piercing david's neck as he screams in agony. the fighter scrambles away, and the zombie ignores you to follow him. "hello? i heard screaming." a new voice intrudes, and jill peaks around the corner. "jesus- what happened?" she rushes over to you as you reach for her weakly. "david... he's so mean." you cry, letting her pull you close as she hugs you tightly. "come on, let's get you somewhere safe." she offers a sad smile, pulling you up carefully.

jill patches you up firmly and cured you, she let you follow her around for the trial, pointing out totems and chests for you to work on whilst she pumped out gens. ash gave your hair an affectionate ruffle in passing, but he was always more of a lone wolf, so he left quickly to distract nemesis. the rest of the trial went bad quickly. david was mori'd, ash died on hook and jill was gravely injured as well as dead on hook by the time the last generator was powered up.

with noed rampant in the end, and the gates blocked by the entity, you and jill stayed hidden behind a pile of crushed cars as the nemesis patrolled the gates carefully. "fuck... what are we gonna do?" you whimper, looking at jill. "i have an idea. i saw hatch earlier, we can find a key." jill gives you a smile, "but all the chests are open?" you remind her, and she shrugs. "no matter, elodie taught me how to look thoroughly." she pulls you along, and you have no choice but to follow. the chest you two found had a broken key in it, and jill tossed it away to start rummaging. "aha!" she beams, tossing a skeleton key into the air and catching it as she offers you her other hand. "c'mon, let's get out of here." she says, and you take her hand.

the two of you run past the undead, past nemesis who caught wind of your scratch marks and started following, stopping at the hatch. jill leans down, unlocking the door quickly as you turn to see nemesis approaching way too quick for your liking. "c'mon, move it!" she yells, pushing you down into the void and jumping in after you. the trap door slams shut, cutting off any light as the two of you fall into the thick smoke.

you regenerate abruptly, catching yourself but still falling when jill is thrown onto you. she wraps her arms around her waist and steadies the two of you quickly, mumbling an apology as she lets go of you. "it's okay.." you reply, letting her lead you to your shack. "leon's probably waiting, c'mon." jill yawns, spotting the blonde who was indeed waiting at your door. his eyes scan the tree line, searching for you. "leon!" you call, and his eyes brighten at the sight of you and jill. "y/n! are you okay?" he runs over to meet you half way, letting you hug him tightly. "be careful, they've had a rough trial." jill says sternly, and leon nods. "thanks for looking after them, jill." he smiles, and jill nods before walking away.

"come on then, let's get you rested." leon says, but freezes when he sees the bruises on your face, "oh, what happened?" he cups your face carefully, analysing you for any signs of a concussion. "david got me... he's really mad." you sigh, melting into his touch. "that fucker... he'll get what's coming to him." leon growls, pulling you into a tight and safe hug. "can we go inside?" you ask quietly, and he nods. "of course, c'mon."

you feel safe with leon, and relax more as you enter your practically shared home. leon turns away as he lets you get changed into some more comfy and cleaner clothes, taking off his bullet proof vest and putting it in its usual spot against the wall. you flop down on your bed with a huff, the blanket feels so welcoming as leon sits next to you. you rest your head on his thigh, letting him gently stroke your cheek as you close your eyes. "you feel any better?" he asks softly, and you nod. "good. just relax, yeah?" leon smiles, leaning back against your wall as he gets comfy.

you move from his lap and smile at him. "lay down with me?" you ask, and leon chuckles. "sure." he says, joining you and letting you cuddle into him. "leon?" you mumble softly, resting your head on his chest. "yeah?" he responds immediately, rubbing your back. "thank you for doing this for me... i don't deserve you." you smile sadly and leon huffs. "don't say that. you deserve the world." the blonde says firmly, moving so you would look at him. "i like you a lot, y/n." he admits yet you just smile. "i like you too." you reply, and leon's heart tightens as he realises you're unaware of his meaning. "i like you, so much more than i should.." he whispers and you process his words.

"wait... like that or am i reading into this too much..?" you ask sheepishly and leon nods, "like that." he confirms and you look away to think. "y/n..?" he whispers, desperate for any response. "i'm sorry... i can't... i don't wanna lose you or get hurt." you reply, voice also just above a whisper. "that's fine." leon smiles to hide the pain he felt. "i'm sorry..." you say again, holding him close. "it's alright, i don't mind." leon lies, his heart burning with sorrow. "just get some sleep, y/n." he says, holding you as if you would melt away if you let go.

"are you okay?" you ask softly, hands rubbing his back. "yeah, i'm completely fine." leon replies, ignoring the strain in his voice. "no you're not... i'm so sorry..." you whisper, feeling your own tears starting to well up. "don't cry, it's fine." leon smiles, wiping your face for you. "i'm so sorry, leon.. i just don't want to get hurt." you say, nestling your head into his neck. "i know, i know.. let's change the subject now until you fall asleep." he sighs.

soon enough the two of you are talking again, and leon almost forgets the rejection until you doze off. "as long as you're okay..." he whispers to himself as he brushes fallen hair from your face. "i couldn't care less about my own feelings." he smiles, tears stinging his eyes as he pulls you into his chest.

[softomi]

now accepting boyfriend applications: intro to business

synopsis: it’s crazy how things can slip the mind, just like how you posted about wanting boyfriend applications but granted, you were drunk. It seemed like Akaashi had the upper hand; until a certain classmate intrudes your mind. 

series: now accepting boyfriend applications

previous: literature

next up: biology

series taglist: @kyomihann @chesley-cant-deal @bluearmufs @your-consulting-fangirl @itsmeaudrieee @winunk @aegiseterna @katelyns-stuff @mochipk @3rachachoo @kyuudere @sixthself @merakiulous-k​ @notsostraightweeb  

*bold means I wasn’t able to tag you*

general taglist: @graykageyama @tsumue @thesorebae @micasaessakusa @alouphen @waitforitillwritemywayout @chibichab @trifliz

“I’m almost positive that guy wasn’t your boyfriend.” Kuroo would know, he probably isn’t going to tell you that he’s familiar with Akaashi due to a mutual friend. Instead, he lifts his chin, “ex-boyfriend.” He corrects himself.

You bite the insides of your mouth, “No he was not.”

You’re back to an internal groan, now you were stuck with the next boyfriend candidate and it’s starting to feel like you’re speed dating.

“Business is all about—” It’s ten minutes into class and your professor enjoys beginning class with an inspirational quote which then smoothly leads into lecture. Only, today, it seems as though he’s taking forever to get to the point of the quote.

Like always, Kuroo remains fixated on the lecture. He was the type to never take notes, though his notebook was out, and his pen is twirling in his hand, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him write anything down. Yet he was somehow managing a ninety-eight percent in the class, what an intelligent prick.

“You good?” He’s mouthing to you and you’ve realized that you had been staring.

You nod in an attempt that he doesn’t catch how embarrassed you actually were to have been caught looking at him. Kuroo turns back to the lecture and now you’re staring down at your phone that is reaching sixty percent. You shamelessly pull up the pdf he had sent you.

“Are you reading my letter of intent?”

You lock your phone so fast; it almost falls on the floor. You’re only lucky that it falls off the desk and Kuroo’s reflexes quickly catch the cell. The action makes both of your desks squeak against the floor and everyone’s heads turn. Both you and Kuroo mutter apologies as he hands you back your phone.

“Cat got your tongue?” He’s stupidly smirking, and you’re tempted to kick him, “Did you read it?”

“No.” You say in a hushed voice, turning your eyes to the board trying to pay attention for once.

He, also, turns to look at the board. Chin resting on his palm, “What a shame.”

For the rest of the class period, he remains silent. He’s fixated on the professor’s lecture, but your mind is racing. Your leg is bouncing rapidly, fingers tapping against the desk, you’re itching to touch your phone but scared it’ll make Kuroo pull another move to talk to you.

The lecture drags, you want to go back to sleep, and you’re suddenly realizing that you’ve skipped breakfast and lunch. Your stomach growls, to you it sounds like a dinosaur’s roar but no one else in the room seems to have heard it. Once more it growls, making you lean your head on the desk with a heavy sigh. You were starving, suddenly aware that you’ve left your wallet at home, and you’ve neglected to add your card to your cell phone so now you’re contemplating skipping your biology lab or starving for the rest of the day.

Your head is laid on its side, giving you perfect view of Kuroo’s side profile. His bed hair looks soft and you’ve got to admit that his jawline is exquisite. He smirks, eyes looking at you from the side. You’d feel embarrassed but you’re hungrier even to the point of being angry.

The lecture drags on and at this point you think you might die from the way your stomach is crying.

“Are you hungry?” Kuroo asks after the fifth time your stomach as growled.

“Is it that obvious?”

Kuroo laughs lowly, “You sound like a car that won’t start.”

You take full offence, “Shut up.”

He was always like this, playful and poking jabs at you. He loved to banter with you and you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t like it. Talking with him was like talking to a childhood friend, it’s easy going and free spirited. Even when the two of you were studying for the first business exam, tucked in a hidden space on the second floor of the library; the studying was abandoned when he kept showing you funny scenes from an anime, resulting in you watching the anime on his tiny cell phone screen despite the both of you clearly having your laptops out.

Kuroo leans close to you, “Want to get out of here?”

“Right now?” You whisper, “We still have forty-five minutes left.”

Kuroo is shutting his notebook, “I’ll buy you lunch.”

“Bet.”

You’re trying to hide your laughter as you and Kuroo slowly pack up to leave. Now the only thing was to try and leave without making the biggest scene. You’ve successfully stood, only drawing small attention as you’re headed for the door. Kuroo seems to struggle, as he picks up his bag, it knocks against the empty desk next to him, drawing full attention to himself and you. It’s deadly silent, you’re frozen at the door and Kuroo is rushing to you.

“Go!” Kuroo pushes you out of the class.

“That was so embarrassing!” The laughter coming from you makes you run out of breath, “How are we supposed to go back to class on Tuesday?”

“Why were you just standing at the door!” Kuroo is yelling yet laughing at the same time.

You slap his arm, “You’re the one who decided to announce that we were leaving in the middle of the lecture. God, the professor probably hates us now.”

You’ve reached the small café in the business department, it doesn’t have a lot of options, mostly cold sandwiches and packaged snacks. The café drinks are way too expensive and even the water bottle is pricey; way to go education.

“Get whatever you like, I’m paying.” His words are smooth and for a second you believe him.

His body turns away from you, pretending as though he’s looking at the drink menu, you can clearly see that he’s checking his wallet. His shoulders visibly deflate and while you fake trying to pick something from the prepackaged area, you watch as he checks his account balance on his cell phone. His head seems to fall back irritatingly. It’s cute, he was trying so hard, but the world was being too cruel on him.

“Kuroo?” You call him. He’s slowly turning, hoping that he doesn’t have to take back his words. You wave him over to show the cheapest sandwich possible, “Want to split it with me?”

“You could get something better?” Kuroo tries looking at the other options, “What about a coffee?”

He was too sweet. You’re smiling, “Nah. I drank a lot last night so I don’t think coffee will sit well in my stomach and I’ve been meaning to go on a diet so if you take half my sandwich, it’ll be like I’m starting early.”

He’s still adamant on wanting to buy you something more expensive, “You could literally get this sub, it’s more filling and what do you mean diet, you’re literally perfect right now.”

A heavy blush appears on your cheeks, you slap his shoulder, pushing him by his back, “Just share a sandwich with me idiot.”

“But the sub.”

You’re kicking him in the ass, “Mention the sub one more time Kuroo, I swear to god I’ll leave you high and dry right now.”

You settle on seats by the window, you’re opening the packaged sandwich and in an attempt to stay cheap, Kuroo secretly stole cups while you distracted the cashier and he was grabbing water from the fountain.

“So.” Kuroo starts, “You haven’t read my application yet?”

You almost choke on your dry sandwich, “Must we talk about that now.”

Kuroo raises a finger, “You know what, I’ll just read it to you now.”

He was dead serious, pulling out his phone to bring up his pdf form. He was the absolute worst, yet it’s absolutely hilarious the way he fixes his clothing as if preparing for an interview.

“I’ll start with my letter of intent.”

You’re already giggling, trying to hide behind your sandwich.

“I am writing this to inform you of my interest for the position of Boyfriend. I have been highly interested in this position ever since you asked me for a pencil and then returned it back to me a week later, not realizing that you had given me a different pencil. I knew I liked you because of how cute you looked apologizing for not returning the pencil earlier.”

You never thought you could smile so wide before until this moment. Kuroo mimics your smile, looking back down to his phone.

“I don’t have a lot to offer but I can say with confidence that I can beat you at Mario Kart. I’ve been practicing and honing my skills for this moment; I heard that boyfriends need to be good at Mario Kart and if I am accepted for this position, please don’t fall for my best friend because he is better than me at Mario Kart.”

You snort, laughter emitting from your lips. You were on the verge of tears at how funny this application was.

“Lastly, we have similar taste in anime so obviously the 2d world also ships us.”

You hum at the last sentence, “Obviously.” You roll your eyes.

He sets his cell phone down, he’s finished his sandwich by now, practically inhaled it and he watches you eat your last bite. It’s a comfortable silence, really, maybe you were so caught up in the friendship that you had never gotten to think about him in a relationship sense.

“If you think about it.” He’s staring, “This is basically our first date.”

You choke on your water, coughing loudly and he finds your reaction funny. He’s patting your back and you feel so bad that you’re basically spitting on him.

“Kuroo.” You begin.

“Ah.” He knows where this is going. He waves a hand around, “You don’t have to give me an answer. Just.” He pauses, “Just consider me in the future.”

“Is that y/n I see?”

Your expression falters the moment you hear the voice of your biology lab partner, “Atsumu? What are you doing here? Did you get lost?”

Atsumu chuckles, a hand over his heart at your jab, “So hurtful. My brother’s taking some business classes, I had to drop something off for him.” Atsumu makes eye contact with Kuroo, “Hope I’m not interrupting something.”

That was a lie, you can tell. His cheeky grin says that he was absolutely hoping that he was interrupting something. Kuroo seems to not mind, at least from what you can tell. But in his mind, it’s the same as when he had seen Akaashi; a competitor. Especially when you’re trying to shrug Atsumu’s arm off your shoulder, Atsumu pinched your cheek causing a tick to grow on your forehead.

“Kuroo Tetsuro.” He puts a hand out.

Atsumu smirks, gripping the male’s hand, “Miya Atsumu.”

There’s a strong way that they grip each other, their faces are smiling, but their grip is testing the other.

“Well.” Atsumu has a hand on the back of your seat, “We have biology in about fifteen minutes, we should probably head over there.” Atsumu grins to Kuroo, “We’re partners, I was hoping you could show me again how to use the microliter pipettes.”

“Again?” You eye him.

Atsumu has his hands in the air defensively, “It’s just so confusing. The lab manual doesn’t describe it well.” You miss the way he smirks from behind you, “And besides, I learn better with hands on education.”

Kuroo returns the smirk, “Your hand must hurt having to grow up teaching yourself.”

The sharp inhale of laughter you take when you’re drinking causes the water to come out your nose. You’re laughing, coughing, and your nose is burning. Kuroo is handing you napkins and Atsumu’s jaw clenches.

“I’m sorry.” You put a hand on Atsumu’s shoulder, “but that was really funny.” You pat his cheek when he pouts, “Let’s go, I’ll show you how to use the pipette before lab starts.” You turn to Kuroo, “I’ll see you later.”

Kuroo gives you a smile, “I’ll message you.”

Atsumu frowns, even as he walks away with you, he looks over his shoulder, chin lifted, attempting to display dominance even until the last moment.

[leejeongz]

nsfw a-z: PARK JIHOON (treasure)

requested: yes, by anon

🔅thanks for requesting sweetheart i hope u like it🔅

most of this is taken from conversations i’ve had with my good pal @multifandomwhxre there are probably thousands of direct quotes lol 🥺😳 if ur reading this, pls give her a follow ❤️

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he gets quite soft. since he’s a hard dom, he wants to show you that even though you’re his little bitch, you’re also his little baby that he wants to cuddle forever. i think he’d like to talk about what happened and actually praise you in hopes of getting praised back.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

he likes your eyes, he likes how they say everything. they tell him everything you’re too shy to say or everything you’re not allowed to say.

on him, he likes his arms (shocker ik). his physical strength gives him even more power over you, like being able to pin you down on the bed or up against a wall, maybe even hold you for a short while.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he LOVES to cum inside you but only when you agree to it. if you don’t, he’s more than happy to pull out and cum on your stomach and admire how pretty it looks. when he decides you’re just gonna suck his dick, he takes great care trying to get all of his cum into your mouth and making you swallow it while his hand holds up your chin, forcing you to look at him as you do so. sometimes it doesn’t always go as planned, getting it over your face, but he’d just be like “oh look at all this mess you just made” and then use his fingers to put in all into your mouth.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

all the pictures you send him get saved into an album and he uses them and them only to get off to, even some selfies are worthy of being put in the wank bank. he thinks porn is cheating and if he ever caught you watching it, he’d be pretty disappointed rather than turned on (even if u were just fwb), so that’s why he uses ur pics and his imagination.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he knows what he’s doing, alright. he’s had enough experience to know what he likes and that’s pretty much all that matters to him and all he lets on to you too. (he’s probably only had one sexual partner, but the way he acts makes you think he’s had more)

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

butterfly (lying on the edge of the bed (or any surface) while he stands between your legs)

he loves being able to pull you closer to him by your legs, being able to reach deeper inside you and (maybe his favourite parts) being able to grab your tits and rub your clit with his thumb. there are no disadvantages of this position for him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

very serious. might laugh AT you but that’s the only laughing to be heard.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

completely clean shaven. even the balls lol.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

not very romantic. at all. you’re still his and he doesn’t let you forget that. but you’re his cum slut or his dirty little whore in the moment. kisses are few and far between and mainly occur after he’s finished.

just wanna make a quick point- he’s not always gonna be hard dom jihoon who loves to tease and doesn’t care for ur wants. ofc he reserves some time for you two to actually be romantic, with little tickles and smooches. he can switch it up real quick depending on how YOU are feeling, it’s not about him all the time. i just chose to write this mainly about the other side of him since that is the most InTeREsTiNG and probably the most frequent kind of sex you’d have.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

only once a week. quite secretive about it when he’s acc doing it but doesn’t shy away from cracking jokes or even just generally talking about masturbation with anyone.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

where do i even begin i think it would be easier to list kinks he doesn’t have… anyway:

degradation - in the moment, you’re his slut, his whore and your desires mean very little to him. he’s not going to stop when you ask him to stop (unless u say the safe word or seem genuinely uncomfortable), you ARE going to do what he tells you to do and when he tells you to do it and you are not going to do anything else.

bondage (kinda?)- handcuffs are his best friend, he likes having your hands where he can see them or where he can hold onto the chain/your wrists, behind your back is his favourite, but he never knows which he prefers, holding them or pulling your hair. even though he has handcuffs, sometimes he likes to spice it up and use a leather belt, he finds this hotter and it turns him on a lot more.

corruption - this can include taking your virginity or just “teaching” someone innocent (virgin or not) about sex. jihoon would love it if you kept asking questions and he could just show you. he’d love to see the sluttier side of you become more and more noticeable and apparent, knowing he did that to you.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

he’s up for doing it anywhere but he’d rather do it in the comfort of his own home, in the bedroom.

he wouldn’t be opposed to doing it on someone else’s bed. i imagine he’d actually find it pretty funny to fuck you on someone else’s bed, let you both get it all dirty, then go and face the friend all innocently. the inside joke/secret could be used for teasing or just to bring you closer together.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

i mean making him jealous always makes him wanna show you who you really belong to but do you really wanna be risking the best fuck of your life like that. he could easily get rid of you if you even slightly overstep the boundaries.

it’s safer to just… act like a little brat. telling him you don’t wanna do something for him like getting him a drink gets him real mad and mad jihoon=turned on jihoon when it comes to you.

but also just the normal stuff. seeing you all dressed up nice makes him wanna cancel your plans for you. pressing yourself against him while spooning gives him an instant hard on (and you need to be punished for doing that to him). sometimes even just the way you look at him, maybe it reminds him of how you look up at him while sucking his dick.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

let you be the dom 😳 absolutely never not in a million years. some guys might like to watch you try, but he doesn’t even give you the chance. he likes it when you top, but he would never EVER let you be in control.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

prefers to receive. likes to fuck your face and watch your mascara get ruined. wants you to take his whole dick, every last inch and will not be satisfied until you do.

when giving, he also likes to use his hands too. this man knows where the clit is i’m just saying. very rare that he eats you out (would rather use his fingers or toys during foreplay) and usually doesn’t last that long because it turns him on too much, he just wants to fuck you. when he does go down on you, it’s usually after he’s finished (doesn’t want to if he’s cum inside u tho).

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

whatever makes you squirm and moan the most. starts slow but gets fast real quick. once you let out even a hint of pleasure, he’s gonna slow it right down again. the “hard and fast” approach doesn’t work for everyone and so he’d make it suit your needs.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

would rather be able to spend time making the experience better and dirtier than the last, however, if he wanted to fuck there and then, or if he wanted to be in your mouth right at that moment, and there’s nothing stopping him, he’ll just take you to the bathroom or smth and would just d o i t. (tease him for a fast pass to the bathroom)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he will do almost everything once, and most of the time will enjoy it and do it again. a light bit of bdsm and sensory deprivation (with a safe word of course) would be incorporated into what you pair would deem a normal round after just a few nights.

he��d also try anything you wanted to, he wouldn’t shy away from anything that you suggested, even if he thought he wouldn’t like it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he can usually last for a while (a while in my opinion anyway idk what u think is a long time CoUgH cOUgh evie) maybe 20-30 minutes (including foreplay ofc) but he can only usually last one round a night. he’s more than happy to eat you out or put his hands to good use if you wanna cum again tho- one of the only times he’ll let you tell him what to do.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

uses toys to tease you. likes holding a vibrator to your clit and telling you not to cum until he says you can. it really turns him on to use them on you. but if he ever caught you using them on yourself without his permission… you’re in for one hell of a “talking to”.

would never use them on himself- he thinks giving you the power to use them on him, or even using them on himself, is too much power that he doesn’t have for himself if that makes sense.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

a whole bloody lot okay. he doesn’t care where you are or who you’re with, if he wants to tease you, he will. is the type to buy one of those toys that you can control on your phone and then laugh when you’re at point of orgasm in the middle of dinner. the reactions he gets from you might turn him on a little, and it’s always your fault if they do, you’re gonna pay for it.

he’s really REALLY unfair during sex too, although to him it’s very fair that you have to wait to be treated. as i mentioned before, he likes to steady the pace when you’re getting into it and he also likes slapping his dick on you to tease you before actually going in. just some of the many things he does to tease you and to treat you “as you deserve”

a lot of the teasing he does is for you though, don’t get me wrong. he knows this will make up you hungrier and you will cum harder and feel good so he doesn’t it all the more.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

GROWLS

only so you can hear them, right next to your ear.

and also a lot of degradation, but volume isn’t something he cares about with that.

idk where to put this but i don’t think he’d be a fan of you being too loud, especially when there are other people in the house. if they were gonna hear anyone, he wants it to be him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

“come here” jihoon orders as you shut the front door behind you.

you apprehensively approach the coach upon which he is sat, relaxed but noticeably hard.

“care to explain this” he shows you the text you sent him as you were on your way home reading “remember that cash you gave me to spend?” with a photo of your new ruby red lingerie set attached. “you knew what you were doing, didn’t you? maybe i shouldn’t even punish you for this, but i want to”

you swallowed audibly, knowing you were going to be punished, kind of excited about what’s to come.

“get here” he nodded towards his lap. you did as he requested, lying face down on his lap, and he immediately pulled your jeans down a little. he rubbed your ass a little before forcefully planting a harsh hand on it. the other hand held your wrists together behind your back, squeezing them until they became numb. you squealed a little which encouraged another smack. both cheeks soon became the same colour as your new lingerie, still jiggling as much as the first time even though you were tense.

“you want another?” he asked. you nodded without thinking, the stinging infesting your brain. “hmm interesting” he sat back for a moment, considering his next move while his hand rested on your back. you tried to get up… little did you know this was when the real punishment was going to begin.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

does it matter this guy can give you all the pleasure you need with whatever tools he’s got 👀

but i think he’s average tbh… maybe a lil bit longer and girthier (?) but nothing too large. one of the biggest in group. still enough to have you choking and gagging in the first 5 mins of a blowjob hahahahahah

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

very high 😳 and he’s not afraid to show it. 5 days a week is his ideal but he understands that too much of a good thing can make you bored of it so it’s usually probably just once or twice a week. expects some spontaneous head when ur not gonna acc have sex tho.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

once he knows that you’re happy and that you’ve had a good time, he can fall asleep anytime (usually pretty quickly bc he’s tired from having a literal workout with you). if something seems off with you afterwards, he’d stay awake for hours thinking what he could have possibly done wrong, even though he knows you’d tell him if something was wrong.

[sencire]

Sugar Rush

Sunday walks are her favorite. Slowing her steps to an almost stop, Lexa inhales deeply. The air is cold and crisp, the snow crunches underneath her shoes but the sun warms her face as she lifts her head and closes her eyes. It’s quiet here. Most people take the route along the busier main arm of the river but Lexa likes to come to the small side arm that has no real boat traffic. People live here on their houseboats. It seems like a place that has fallen out of time, enchanted in its quietness and it always makes Lexa feel at peace.

Sunday walks are also her least favorite. Just a few hours left before she needs to step back into “the life”. Phones, computers, numbers, people in general, too many of them for way too long. Sunday walks make her sad. Returning home means even less time before it all starts again. There’s never enough time in a weekend. How wonderful it must be to live on a boat and not care much for the busy lifestyle.

Lexa smiles as she approaches a particularly colorful boat. This one is not only a home. This is Mr Warner’s candy shop. She has never had a sweet tooth but she knows the friendly old man, always smiling happily, chatting with people and selling them candy.

It’s not Mr Warner though that she sees inside the shop. The store is closed and in the window below the shutters, she can see that half the jars holding the candy are gone. Lexa leans down a little to peek inside. Her searching gaze is met by the surprised blue eyes of a young blonde woman and Lexa freezes. She suppresses the urge to jump up and run, thinking that would be silly. You don’t just stare into someone’s home and run when you get caught. She’s not five years old. So she lifts her hand and waves gingerly, putting on a little smile. The woman inside smiles back and Lexa can’t help but smile wider. She points at the candy jar the woman is holding. She must have just removed it from the display. Moving her hand up to her mouth, Lexa silently asks the woman if she’s going to eat all the candy by herself. It gets her a raised eyebrow and a wink but then the woman moves and disappears from her view.

Okay. That went really well. For almost a minute, nothing happens. Lexa is just about to walk off when the shutters creak open and with a thud, the woman drops the candy jar onto the counter.

“Would you like some?”

“Ah … umm … no, thank you,” Lexa replies with a chuckle. “You can have it all to yourself.”

“And end up rolling off the boat, huh?” the woman says, holding Lexa’s gaze. She’s so pretty. Lexa bites her lips. There’s something about those blue eyes that makes it very hard for Lexa to detach her gaze from them. Long seconds pass until Lexa finally clears her throat and takes a step back.

The woman smiles quietly and looks down, picking up the jar to hug it.

“You’re not Mr Warner,” Lexa states. “Is he okay?”

Sadness clouds the woman’s face and she shakes her head slowly. Lexa regrets her question right away.

“My grandfather,” the woman says, holding the jar tighter. “He’s not well and won’t be back.”

“Oh,” Lexa looks for words. She doesn’t really know the old man but he had once told her something she thinks about often. I love my job, he had said one summer, a couple of years back. Everyone smiles at me. Selling candy is the best thing ever.

“He loves his job,” Lexa says, instantly wondering why that is the only thing she can think of. “I hope he is well.”

The woman looks up, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips again.

“He does,” she agrees, putting her hand on the lid of the jar to unscrew it. “I’m cleaning out the store. We might sell the boat. Or maybe I will live on it. It’s nice.”

She takes off the lid and reaches inside.

“Did you know him?”

“Not really. Just from passing by here. I don’t eat candy. But he was always happy and I loved that.”

The woman smiles. She looks down at the two pieces of candy in her hand and holds it out to Lexa.

“Have one on him. I’m Clarke.”

“Lexa.”

Declining would be rude so Lexa steps closer again and carefully takes the piece of candy from Clarke’s hand.

“These are special,” the blonde tells her, putting down the jar for good to unwrap her piece.

“They’re -,” she pauses to look at Lexa. “They will warm you up.”

“Will they? That’s good, because I’m cold.”

Lexa unwraps her piece and taking it between two fingers, she drops it into her mouth.

Clarke watches her with an amused expression. Lexa sucks on the candy for a moment, trying to figure out what the taste is. Her eyes widen when her mouth unexpectedly bursts into flames.

Clarke chuckles.

“Chili.”

“Chili?”

Clarke nods, popping the candy into her mouth at last. She closes her eyes, tasting.

“He always kept this jar on the lowest shelf. Said it’s magic the way it makes people horny.” She winks at Lexa.

Lexa chokes on her candy, coughing a few times, and her eyes start to water. Not because of the chili but because of the blunt statement. Somehow it’s really hard to imagine sweet Mr Warner saying that.

“Strawberry and chili, a natural aphrodisiac.” Clarke continues, slowly sucking on her candy. She licks her lips, lowering her eyes to Lexa’s mouth. Lexa laughs because it’s the only thing she can think of right now. She doesn’t feel one bit horny but thinking about the magic in this candy sure has made her feel warmer.

“So what is going to happen now?”

“I don’t know. What would you like to happen?”

Or is she beginning to feel aroused? Her brain is trying to process the tastes in her mouth. The sugary sweetness, the spicy chili, not quite strong enough to mask the fruitiness. She can feel her brain flashing questions through her body, making her skin tingle. Her lips feel swollen and the more she licks at them, the more they burn.

What is happening to her? Her body is sending signals back up to her brain. Signals of how it wants to be touched. Lexa clearly feels her nipples harden and she looks up quickly to see if Clarke has caught it. It doesn’t make her feel uncomfortable at all. In fact, it’s very pleasant. Heat flushes her body, even making her sweat a little. She unzips her jacket.

“Are you trying to seduce me with a piece of candy?”

“Would you mind if I did?”

Suddenly, Lexa wonders what Clarke looks like without her clothes. She gulps, making sure to keep the candy between her tongue and the roof of her mouth.

“You’re so freaking cute,” Clarke continues, her eyes never letting go of Lexa. “And so shy. I bet you’re a good kisser.”

“I’m not shy,” Lexa retorts. “Not at all.”

Clarke leans onto the counter, biting her lower lip.

“Well then, tell me what you are. Are you hot? Does it heat up your core?”

Lexa is faintly aware of her hand coming up to tug at her scarf. She has trouble breathing because it’s getting really hot. She takes another step closer, leaning against the boat. Clarke leans in, grabbing Lexa’s scarf to pull her close and licks across Lexa’s lips. Lexa is too stunned to move but oh, the heat is becoming unbearable.

“Are you getting wet?”

Lexa manages to nod. She is one step away from jumping over the counter.

“Clarke,” she says, looking over her shoulder to see if anyone is near. They’re alone. “Let me come inside and I’ll show you.”

“Tell me. Would you like me to fuck you?”

Lexa can feel it between her legs. Sticky warmth has spread there. And all she can think about is Clarke’s tongue lapping it up gently. Her fingers deep inside of her, pushing in, pulling out, picking up the pace until ...

She lowers her voice, watching Clarke’s eyes drop to her lips.

“Yes. I would.”

“What?”

“Like you to fuck me.”

Clarke smiles at that, letting go of Lexa’s scarf.  She motions for Lexa to step away from the boat and closes the shutters. With a few quick steps Lexa has crossed the small bridge onto the boat and waits in front of the door leading inside the main cabin. She hears a key being turned in the lock, then the door opens.

“Oh, there you are,” Clarke says pulling Lexa inside and closing the door behind her, pressing her up against it. A heated kiss follows, all tongues and little moans, barely disguised need. Lexa pushes forward, one hand on Clarke’s back to steady her, the other moving to the front to squeeze her breast. They’re moving blindly, never breaking the kiss for more than a quick breath, towards the tiny cabin on the side that holds the bed. Lexa’s jacket drops to the floor, followed by her scarf and she has to let go of Clarke to lean down and take off of her boots.

She looks up when she hears Clarke laugh.

“You want me bad, huh?”

“So bad,” Lexa breathes, lifting the woolen sweater over Clarke’s head as she comes up to reveal only a bra underneath. She hooks her fingers into the waistband of Clarke’s pants and pulls, crashing their hips together.

“I can feel a sugar rush coming on,” Lexa growls, kissing Clarke deeply and enjoying more of those little moans from deep inside the other woman.

“And I need you to taste it.”

“About time,” the blonde mumbles into the kiss, the tone of her voice sending warm waves of shivers down Lexa’s spine. Clarke pushes her onto the bed, climbing on top.

---

It smells of sex inside the small cabin. Lexa rolls onto her back, feeling comfortably sore and deeply satisfied.

“Clarke?”

“Hmm?”

“What did you do to Mr Warner?”

“He’s fine, enjoying a weekend at a cozy hotel in the countryside with his wife.” Clarke reaches for the blanket to cover them.

“Does he know what you were getting up to?”

“No, and he better never finds out. I kind of like seducing you with candy. We may have to do this one again.”

They start to giggle, like they always do after one of their little adventures. They don’t do this often, but on occasion, Lexa enjoys her blood pressure raised like this, away from their bed at home, especially with Clarke being so creative.

“You have a way of sweetening up my Sundays,” Lexa says, snuggling up to her girlfriend, moving her hand between Clarke’s legs once more.

“Now where is that candy jar?”