Tumgik
#and cause as much pain and discomfort as possible
aintitfierce · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
last post for tonight before i go pass out but i like that i originally leaned toward making vanya’s Reprisals when people got on his bad side more akin to curses and magical in nature but nowadays that’s shifted almost entirely instead to him doing the equivalent of a cat swatting anything and everything that Annoys him
2 notes · View notes
medicinemane · 4 days
Text
I don't know, I get tired of a lot of positivity
Like yes yes, the world's wonderful and I'm so strong or whatever generic thing is being said (because it's always so generalized to the point of meaningless), but you know shit is what it is, and the only way forward is with changes I manage to make... which you're not helping with at all
And as for like... my internal mood, I'm deeply isolated, sorry if hollow platitudes don't sooth the gaping maw inside me
It is what it is, and I probably get my shit together enough to do stuff like teach out of my basement like I'd like, it's just I believe that I'll be alone in a crowd like I've always been
But positivity... I just... I kinda get sick of it. There's this guy on youtube I watch who talks about economics stuff, he's recently started doing positivity and... I just fucking know his personality enough where it's like sorry mate but I'm not interested in hearing you spout Secret light kinds off drivel
...I don't know, I suppose it boils down to this
One, I can barely fucking take in positive things said directly to me, about me. Generalizations don't help even a little... I'm a mess, I'd really like someone to toss me a life preserver instead of always tossing confetti at me while I struggle to stay afloat... doesn't help
Two, the world is a terribly imperfect place, and rather than taking a mentality of "everything will work out", I think it's important to acknowledge that sometimes good people live alone, die alone, and they never got the break they needed and slowly bled out
I think it's worth knowing that if you can't step in and help yourself, then maybe no help'll come at all
...I don't know, I suppose in the end the core of what I'm saying is a lot of positivity seems like self help tier stuff and... I get tired of that, and I see so many good people struggling and... eh... either I can at least come in and say something positive custom fit to them, or I can keep my mouth shut
Just fucking let me rot. Help or let me fester on my own, you know?
I got rid of the trailer, I maybe did something like cleaning though I can't tell... at what point will my pace on trying to make things better be good enough for people, and I'll be able to stop having people tell me to fix my life... as if I hadn't thought of that already
...everyone means well, it's just tiring
#it's like when people make you being suicidally depressed about them#I... don't really want to say some more specific details cause they might be able to pick themselves out of a line up#but it's just like... man... is this more about trying to get me in a better place; or about making you feel better#wears me out#mm tag so i can find things later#just seems impossible for people to not offer advice on things#the thing people never think of with advice; is that people living a situation often have thought about that situation a whole lot#it's like why... with my friend that's looking for theatre jobs; I don't offer a lot of advice because I figure they've done quite a bit#just kinda... offer to help the best I can and ask what they need; and then mostly just listen#it's not like I never ever say anything; it's just I try to back up advice with something concrete#like... for instance if I wanted to suggest someone do therapy; then I'm gonna be offering to help them find a therapist as best I can#cause I get that it's not like you just 'go to therapy'... getting started on things is often the hardest part#eh... keeping this as vague as possible cause I want the actions I took not the details#but when I had a friend who was someone who didn't treat them at all well#I didn't directly try to get them to leave cause I know that... it's hard; they were in deep#instead I just made sure to validate their perception of reality a whole lot#counter the literal gaslighting by just pointing out that they made sense and questioning how reasonable their partner was#and then I attempted to get them in touch with some other people so they were less isolated and had other people to validate them#and thankfully they're not with that person anymore; they're doing a great job at life and are much healthier now#...but advice... honestly I don't think I gave them much#I more asked leading questions to try and shine a light on things; or would brainstorm about what to do with various stuff#they were real stuck; and it was painful to see them stuck in such a bad situation; but... better to sit with them than push push push#it felt like if I gave them my actual advice; dump that abusive freak; they couldn't have heard me#it was easy for me to tell them the solution; but that didn't account for all the barriers to implementing that solution#in this case; many of the barriers were internal; but internal or external; barriers are barriers#I don't know... I just think sometimes you gotta be comfortable sitting with discomfort along side someone#unless you got an actual fix; and you're willing to put in the work to fix it... shut up about fixing and just be there for them#mhh... we'll take one of the only things I'm actually capable of doing instead of something more serious#if someone wants a minecraft server; I can either fucking help them set it up; or I can kinda keep my mouth shut#if I'm not helping them set it up; I can give them shit like 'that sounds cool; I bet you could do it'
1 note · View note
gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
Note
Is it okay if I request Deadpool and Wolverine having an s/o that likes to bite them affectionately and like they keep doing doing it trying to leave a mark on them?
Headcanon or story is fine ❤️
Tumblr media
Wade Wilson/ deadpool
‘Do I taste delicious bbg? I must seeing as how you’re eagerly coming back for seconds just to get your teeth into me.’ Wade would tease as he watched you bite onto his shoulder, no thoughts behind your eyes, only chomp.
‘I’m trying to see if I can leave a mark.’ You tell him, biting down a little harder on his shoulder but not enough to cause him any discomfort.
‘And In public too? *gasp* You naughty minx, I didn’t think you were like that but then again I guess voyerism has always been something I wanted to try.’ - Wade.
‘No’ - you
Wade doesn’t mind you biting him, bite him as much as you want but don’t be surprised if he were to say that he got the bite marks from something far more intimate. He’s just built like that but you love him regardless for it, he made life fun in a chaotic way.
He’d even might attempt to bite you back, make it your couple thing to bite each other affectionately and hard enough to leave a make but not enough to cause the other pain.
So when you bit his hand, he’ll bit your arm, which then leads to an all out biting war between the two of you to see who can bite the other the most. You could just be chilling on the sofa together and somehow bite each other simultaneously. This happens one too many times to count on one hand and even after the marks have gone away, it was just an excuse for you and Wade to bite each other as much as possible all over again.
So please by all means bite him as much as you want he’s not going to stop you, he’s enjoying it too much that he may or may not find himself developing a biting related kink sooner or later because of you.
‘Do I look pretty with your bite marks, claiming me as yours and yours alone?’ - Wade, battering his eyes.
‘The prettiest’ - you slapping his ass and giving him another bite on his bicep.
The fucker would moan when you do, loudly too so I hope your bit easily embarrassed.
Logan Howlett/ Wolverine
‘Ow! What the-‘ Logan sees you latching onto his bicep with your mouth, teeth digging into his skin, ‘-are you a fucking cannibal now? What’re you doing?’ He’d ask and you’d shrug.
‘Marking you?’ You questioned, still biting him.
‘Why?’ He’d ask.
You shrug again. ‘Your bicep look too nice so I had to bite it.’
Logan swore you were going to give him grey hairs with your shenanigans, but he just lets you do your thing. So half of the time you look like a fish on a fishing hook with the way you latch onto his bicep with no intentions of letting go anytime soon.
Even if people were to ask who gave him that many bite marks, he’d just raise his arm and reveal you hanging off of it and just point at you with a deadpan expression. ‘My nippy little shit of a partner did.’ He’d say in response.
He doesn’t mind a couple of bites but a fuck tone then he’ll probably tell you to tone it down with the biting, just until the current marks fade away.
‘I look like I got attacked by a fucking piranha.’ - Logan as he points at you. ‘Enough biting from you.’
You didn’t like that as much and would get all pouty because the whole point of you biting him was so that the marks would stay! This was torture! Logan tends to ruin the fun but that doesn’t stop you from biting him unexpectedly but there is moments where he does catch you in the act and you bolt away as fast as you can.
However in the end you’re the one coming out of the room with a couple of fresh bite marks yourself across your neck as Logan smirks to himself with pride. You did push your luck and Logan wasn’t one to let you get away with it without…a punishment or two…
1K notes · View notes
stxrslut · 6 months
Text
Rafe x chronicmigraine!reader headcannons
🎀 I feel like he’d be so so in tune with you, waking up one morning while you’re still asleep and he can just see your eyebrows furrowed in premature discomfort.
already getting up and fetching your painkillers, ice pack, sick bowl, snack, and anything else he deems you’ll need. making sure to be quiet while he dims the lights and shuts all 4 blackout curtains.
when you start waking up he’s kneeling right there, already rubbing your temple gently as you let out a cry, “hey hey, I know sweetie, you’re okay.”
🎀 he definitely gives you chocolate syrup after you’ve swallowed a pill cause he knows you hate them and the way they taste.
🎀 Idk about you guys but whenever I have a migraine I will literally be vomiting at random times with no warning.
feel like Rafe has absolutely dad reflexes when it comes to it tho. just randomly appearing with a bowl under your chin, pulling your hair back, instructing you to “open your mouth sweetie. you got it.” as he starts to run a hand up and down your back. and you’re just like ?? how tf did u know.
🎀 cupping the back of your head when he makes you drink water!! and best believe he’s setting a timer every fifteen minutes so he doesn’t forget to remind you!!
🎀 if you ever get a migraine in public and there’s not really away to get you out of there he is mad at the world. snapping at everyone but you.
just finding the most secluded place he can and holding you to his chest so your eyes are covered, big hands over your ears to try and make you as comfortable as possible while you just cry cause you’re in so much pain :( talking to you in that soothing voice he reserves only for his favourite girl.
🎀 he’s definitely getting up at whatever time in the night to get you some warm milk to soothe you. also replacing your heat / ice pack while he’s there.
🎀 he loves you so much. he is the most patient, never complains. he is always always understanding, will always do everything to help you.
you are Rafe Cameron’s soft spot.
1K notes · View notes
ddejavvu · 7 months
Note
anakin being so pussy drunk that he cant sleep bc he didn’t fuck you at least once that day but you’ve already gone to sleep. he can’t help himself seeing you all so pretty and peaceful sound asleep that he doesn’t even bother to wake you up just sinks his cock in without a second thought.
does anyone know where to get a wet floor sign cause i gushed
obvious cw for somnophilia, very quick and fleeting mention of anal (no actual activity), don't like don't read.
this post is 18+, minors dni.
His cock is already hard from the moment he steps through the door- perhaps if he hadn't spent the elevator ride thinking about sinking it into your wet, warm cunt, he wouldn't be so inconvenienced.
But it's hard, and aching, and only getting worse, so he sheds his Jedi garb as quickly as humanly possible. A belt here, a tunic there, boots sloppily discarded by the door. By the time he gets to your bedroom he's wearing only an undershirt and briefs, but he disposes of the thin cotton shirt in the doorway.
You're sleeping. Illuminated gorgeously by the two of four moons that are visible from Coruscant's surface. They spill a pale halo of light around your sleeping form that catches on your sleek satin gown, pools deliciously in the space just beneath your thighs where the chub of your ass takes over and- Anakin's even stiffer.
It's a gift from whatever god Anakin unconsciously believes in. Whether it's a local legend from his days on Tatooine, or the will of the Force, some higher power has shed ethereal light on your body, and Anakin feels called to indulge in its divine gift.
You're laid out on your stomach with one knee tucked up to your side, and an arm thrown beneath your ribs to offset the heft of your breasts. You complain about pain when you lie on your stomach for too long- Anakin's surprised that you're sleeping like this. But he is not complaining, not when it offers him a perfect view of the gentle curve of your mound that rests between your thighs, parted to offer your leg enough room to bend the way that it does.
His cock begs for your pussy, tearing and ripping and struggling against the fabric of his briefs, and when he yanks them down his thighs his cock springs so tightly that it hits his stomach, leaving a sticky smear there.
No matter - things will get messier.
Anakin can't spot a wet stain on the pad of your panties, but it's no matter. He can supplement until your body catches up. He retrieves a bottle of lube from your bedside drawer- almost empty, seriously, do you guys fuck that much? -and pools some on his palm, stroking his dick with it so that it smears over his length.
He has to be careful not to work himself up too much with his own hand- no self-achieved orgasm will ever be as good as what he'll experience in your cunt.
His dick is properly slicked now, but he squirts a generous stream of the stuff onto your cunt once he pulls back your panties, unable to resist the urge to spread it through the split of your ass.
That's not the hole he's going for tonight, but he's never been able to keep his hands to himself.
Hands braced on either side of your body- one slick with lube - he leans his weight on the mattress, and draws his wet hand back to his cock. He needs no help after the initial guidance of the first thrust, and once he's gently pushed his cock through your artificially slickened entrance, he huffs out a sigh that blows hot against your back. The slip you're wearing is low-cut enough that the heat hits your bare skin, and he's not sure if it's the penetration or the sudden gust of air that makes you shiver.
You let out a strangled moan- something between surprised and pleasure, and Anakin is relived to feel his cock sliding smoothly through your cunt. You nag him about wasting lube; he's a very generous pour, but if it means you're feeling pleasure and not discomfort, he'll empty the whole bottle.
He dips down to kiss your cheek, his broad shoulders flexed against his muscled back- not that you're awake to enjoy it.
"Shh, s'okay angel," He groans, drawing in a shaky breath as he drags his hips backwards, pushing in once more to the heat of your cunt, "It's- it's okay, I just- agh, I need this. Just- let me have this, angel, let me- let me take it."
2K notes · View notes
remlionheart · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
“You came.”
“You called.”
✧˚ · .MDNI 18+✧˚ · .
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ WHEWWWW. I had no idea when I first started writing this just how much it was going to suck me in. Sweet/toxic!Megumi had my brain doing fuckin' wheelies. All characters are aged up. 21+. Fem!reader x Megumi. AU where Megumi was raised by Toji and is navigating adulthood while still carrying around those old parental wounds. Hurt comfort / angst / smut. porn with a plot. praise kink girlies, this is for you. 3.6k words. super proud of this, lemme know whatcha think. luv you <3 ‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
It’d been 4 months since the last time Megumi had seen you.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
He’d woken up in what used to be your apartment with the taste of liquor from the night before still lingering on his tongue and unwanted snippets of your latest fight still ringing in his ears. He rolled over to see you curled up on your side, as far away from him as you could possibly get while still sharing the same bed. He ran a hand over his face, regret and nausea churning in his stomach while more flashbacks of the argument that had caused the divide between you smashed through his mind.
His footsteps were heavy as he made his way into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He turned the water up as hot as it would go before stripping out of his boxers. He wanted to sweat out the guilt he felt. Wanted to burn away the insults you’d both thrown at each other. Wanted to focus on anything else besides the way he’d made you cry.
He winced when the water made contact with his skin. It was scalding, fanning across his back with vengeance. But it was vengeance that he felt he deserved.
“Why?” His eyes closed, remembering how hard you were trying to keep yourself together despite the obvious pain that was plaguing your small body. The way your lip had quivered and the way your arms had protectively wrapped around your stomach when you looked up at him. “Why can’t you ever just tell me what’s going on with you?”
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to.
God, he wanted to. To open up. To tell you all of the fucked-up things that went on in his head. To voice his insecurities so that maybe they’d finally stop repeating on the same never-ending loop that they had been stuck on his whole life. To tell you that he didn’t think he was enough. To tell you that he was scared to lose you. That it was something he thought about nearly every day.
But it wasn’t that easy. He was only capable of doing what he knew, and he had absolutely no fucking idea how to deal with his own vulnerability. Let alone express it in a way that wasn't damaging to both of you.
Being raised by Toji had been like taking a master class in emotional avoidance and Megumi was very much his father’s prodigy.
He knew how to argue. He knew how to deflect. He knew how to win a fight. He knew how to manipulate a conversation so that he never had to say more than he wanted to. And he didn’t just know how to do these things, he excelled at them.
It was why he had always been so reserved. It was why he’d beat up all those kids in middle school just for looking at him. It was why at 21, rather than saying “I’m sorry” to resolve an ongoing issue with his girlfriend, he’d opted for, “Then fucking leave" instead.
He stepped out of the shower with red welts decorating his back and sweat dripping down his face. He wiped the steam away from the mirror to reveal blood-shot eyes as he wrapped a towel around his waist. His midnight hair was unusually straight and flat, pressed loosely against his forehead.
He let out an exhale, trading in his introspection for detachment when he heard the bathroom door open.
You observed him quietly, noting his reddened skin and his apparent discomfort at seeing you.
Your head tilted slightly, looking over his clenched jaw and the way his shoulders never truly relaxed. It hurt to see him and it hurt even worse to not see him, but as he stared back at you through hooded eyes, you realized that you had wasted so much time searching for softness in a place you’d never find it.
Megumi Fushiguro was beautifully broken. An intricate stained-glass mural that had been shattered by undeserving hands. Mesmerizing to look at but much too rigid to touch. And though he shined perfectly in the right lighting, your mangled fingertips were begging you to finally put the pieces down.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“It’s nothing...” You shook your head, taking in his sharp edges for what you assumed would be the last time. “You just look like him… that’s all.”
His chest tightened, a rare, visible crack forming in his usual cold demeanor as he stared back at you. He’d been able to avoid everything he didn’t want to deal with in life, everything – until he met you.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
A pint of whiskey loomed back at him from his nightstand as he ran a hand through his spiked hair, lethargically watching the ceiling fan spin above him.
His vision was hazy, his body tired from training all day. He wanted to sleep. Wanted to close his eyes and drift off for a few hours, but he knew his mind wasn’t going to grant him that mercy.
So, he drank.
Light rain tapped against his window as he held the bottle to his lips, letting a comforting burn travel down his throat while he pulled his phone out from under his pillow.
You had become a ghost in his life after that morning. A memory that he kept buried so far down, he’d almost partially convinced himself that you were actually gone. You were a late-night whisper that he’d ignore. A song on the radio that he’d immediately turn off. A stabbing, fleeting thought he’d learned to block out on his way home from work.
He had given up going to his favorite restaurants and shops in fear that you might be there. He had cut all ties with Nobara since you guys were so close, not wanting to hear anything about you. He had isolated himself to work and his apartment, not allowing himself the chance to accidentally bump into you.
He’d taken so many precautions. Did everything he possibly could to not see you. And yet, he was gradually starting to realize that maybe it’d all been in vain. That even with how much his life had changed, he was still somehow doing the exact same thing he’d done when he was with you.
After all this time, he was still running.
With one last swig, he finished off his pint and grabbed his phone again, not allotting himself enough time to backpedal.
Dialing your number was like muscle memory even with how long it'd been since he'd done it. He wasn't sure what he was going to say if you answered. He definitely wasn't sure what he was going to say tomorrow if you didn't answer. All he knew was that he was finally done avoiding you.
“Megumi…?” your voice was warm, familiar, static against his ear.
“You’re up late.”
There was a pause followed by a reluctant, “Yeah… so are you.”
He mentally kicked himself as an unsure silence settled between the two of you. He had so many things he needed to say but quickly realized that he couldn’t say any of them now that he was here.
His feelings were heavy and important and way too repressed to be spilled out over a late-night phone call. “I know it’s raining, and whatever but…” He cleared his throat. “Are you busy…?”
“Right now?” He couldn’t help but smirk at your snarky, half-hearted laugh. “I mean, it’s 1:30 in the morning. So, no. Not really.”
“Good. Come over.”
“Wait a minute, you can’t just –”
But he already had.
He ended the call, abruptly cutting off your flimsy attempt at protesting him before sending you a text with his address and standing up to dig a black t-shirt out of his closet.
His apartment was damn near spotless aside from some empty whiskey bottles littering his nightstand, but he still made compulsive laps back and forth from his bedroom to his kitchen as he threw them away and cracked a couple of windows open to let some fresh air in. It was an odd feeling, knowing that you were going to be standing in the one place that didn’t remind him of you.
He checked his phone while heading into the bathroom. You hadn't said anything, but he knew you well enough to know that you were probably only minutes away by now.
He ran contemplative fingers through his hair, making sure each spike was pointed and curled up to his satisfaction. He hated to admit it, but your words had been haunting his reflection since the morning they left your mouth. He had become painfully aware of how much his eyes, his mannerisms, his facial structure all resembled the man he didn't want to become.
His past may have already been accounted for but as he heard the knock at his front door, he finally began to see something different in the mirror that once taunted him. He watched his stare soften and his shoulders loosen. He noted how much tension his body had let go of at just the thought of you. He was about to let his guard down in the biggest way possible and instead of having a visceral reaction, he felt ready.
With one last glance at himself, he let out a decisive breath and headed down the hall. The future was in his hands and even if he did have his father's features, he knew his grasp was much steadier.
You were in an oversized grey hoodie with your hair thrown into a loose side-bun, your shorts just barely visible and your skin damp from the rain.
Neither one of you said anything, both too busy studying the person in front of you to bother with words. Your eyes trailed over him with warranted skepticism, an internal battle between logic and emotion arising the longer you looked at him.
He could see it; he could feel it - the way you wanted to trust him but couldn't.
"You came." he finally said, his voice gentler than you remembered it being.
You shrugged, almost embarrassed by your own honesty.
"You called."
The two of you exchanged the same somber smile before he nodded for you to follow him.
The smell of his cologne mixed with spring air swirled around you as you walked into his room. His walls were covered in art - framed line work, oil paintings, black and grey portraits. Everything was strategically placed and organized. His bed made neatly with white sheets and a black duvet. It was all very him.
He leaned against the wall in front of you as you took a seat on the edge of his mattress.
“How’ve you been?”
It should've been an easy question and under different circumstances, it probably would've been.
But it was late and you were on his bed and he looked beautiful and you wished he didn't and the weight of the situation was suddenly hitting you all at once.
“I've been alright.” You lied, repositioning yourself. "Just busy with classes and stuff. What about you...?"
He watched the way your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your shorts. The way you shifted your weight as you dangled one leg off of the bed and held the other against your chest.
“Quit.”
You paused, your gaze reluctantly returning to his. “Quit what?”
“Being nervous.” He pushed himself away from the wall and sat down next to you, heeding his own advice. “I just have some stuff I need to say, that's all."
You gave him a slow nod, letting go of the loose piece of thread.
His legs were spread slightly, his elbows resting on his thighs and his chin in his hands as he looked over at you. "You were right."
He had officially gained your attention with that one simple admission.
"I do need to open up more, it's just -" He took a breath, determination flickering through his eyes. "It's just fucking hard, you know? But that's not an excuse. I'm sorry. Truly. I'm sorry for everything I did to you while we were together. I should've said it the last time I saw you. I should've said it months before that. I should've just said it at least a hundred times. But I didn't, so I'm saying it now." His hand was warm as he carefully reached for yours. "I shouldn't have shut you out like I did. You're... the one person I never wanted to push away... I love you."
It felt as though all of the oxygen had been stripped from the room, your heart forgetting how to beat while you looked back at him in awe. Your thoughts were everywhere. The war of logic versus emotion still violently raging on.
His fingers laced into yours and you let them. His grasp felt safe and secure. His eyes were full of a sense of patience and vulnerability that you didn't think you'd ever seen before.
"Don't let him do this to you again." Nobara had warned you on your drive over here. "He might care about you. Hell, he might even really love you, but he doesn't know how and you can't keep making that your problem over and over again. It's not fair."
"Look..." Your breathing was uneven, your voice giving away your internal struggle no matter how hard you tried to conceal it. "I forgive you, but we... can't. I mean, we can't just keep doing this over and over. It's... not fair." It had held so much more conviction when it came from your best friend, but it was the best you could manage.
His hand disappeared from yours, wandering up to your cheek to catch tears that you didn't even realize had fallen. "Okay..." he conceded.
His tone was despondent, but his touch was soft. Light fingertips glided along your jawline, his face only centimeters apart from yours. "Then we won't."
"We won't." You repeated back to him, trying desperately to ignore the way his exhale fanned felicitously across your lips.
"Because..." You swallowed hard, watching his gaze drift carefully across your face. "We shouldn't."
He shook his head in agreement. "Absolutely shouldn't." He whispered, his hand trailing up to the back of your neck.
"And..." Emotion was putting up the fight of its life, your pupils widening as you stared back at him. "I deserve better."
"So much better." he echoed, leaning in closer, his mouth just barely grazing yours. "You deserve the fucking world."
Your body was betraying every bit of your sentiment, your breath hitching in your throat while his fingers tangled into your hair. "Megumi... you can't..."
"I'm not." his voice was like honey, his lips still ghosting yours. "All you have to do is pull away." His other hand began to slide delicately up your thigh, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything else. "Pull away and I'll walk you back to your car. We'll act like none of this ever happened."
"Megumi, please." It was a whimper. A pathetic plea that held no real merit. You weren't sure if you were begging for him to touch you or not touch you.
"I won't call you again. Won't see you again." His nails began to dig into the tenderness your inner thigh, his eyes still locked fiercely with yours. "I'll leave you alone for good this time... That's what you want, right?"
Wetness seeped between your legs as he kept on toying with the opening of your shorts. The warmth of his hand so infuriatingly close to where you wanted it and where it shouldn't be. Your already weak resolve was crumbling.
"Tell me to stop."
His forehead pressed against yours, opposite hand still holding your neck in place. "Tell me." He tried again, but all of your words had been stolen by the feeling of his palm roaming up towards your center.
With only a thin layer of fabric separating his fingers from you, he slowly began to spread you apart. If he hadn't been able to see your desperation before, he could certainly feel it now.
He watched every last bit of composure you had vanish as he started to draw soft, heavenly circles around your clit. Drowning in the little yelps and whines that you were trying so hard to bite back.
"Tell me to fucking stop."
There was suddenly no logic left in your brain. No one in control. No way to fight the way he was making you feel. You were a needy, pining mess and your body was practically groveling for him.
You finally let your lips catch his, shamelessly moaning against him while his grip tightened in your hair. "Don't -" You let out between heady breaths. "Don't stop. Please don't ever stop."
You were lost somewhere between his feral ocean eyes and the way his tongue swirled around yours.
He pulled the fabric to the side, plunging two unexpected fingers inside of you, smirking at the surprised squeal it'd gained him.
"Oh, that's my girl." He groaned, watching your eyes double in size.
Your walls were swallowing him, clenching around him shamelessly while more uncontrollable noises filled the room.
His thumb brushed against your clit, rubbing back and forth with precision as his fingers continued to slam into you. The three of them working together in perfect synchronicity. "There you go, that’s it.”
It had been so long. You knew it wouldn't take much, but you still felt pathetic when you realized you were already there. "Megumi- 'm -"
It almost caught both of you off guard how little it took. Your eyes snapped shut, your bottom lip lodged between your teeth as you soaked him. Your hips were thrusting, your pussy unapologetically dripping all over his hand while you mewled and writhed against him.
"Poor thing. Has it really been that long?"
It was somehow sweet, the way he mocked you.
His movements became more urgent, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you to your feet so that he could help you out of your clothes. Your hoodie went first, your nipples hardening as you stood in front of him.
"So fucking pretty." He praised, still sitting on the edge of the bed. His hands were warm against your waist, tugging off your shorts and underwear in one swift motion, admiring the shiny slick glistening off of your cunt.
He took a moment to look you over, quietly memorizing every inch before his own pants were tossed aside.
Your legs straddled him as he guided you on top of him, his hands placed firmly on your hips. You drew in a shallow breath, watching him rub his tip against you, wetting himself with your cum before lining his cock up with your entrance.
You slowly lowered yourself onto him, basking in that familiar, heavenly stretch he always provided you with.
“Fuuuck.”
You weren’t sure which one of you had said it, too drunk off of the way he filled you to care.
His hands were still guiding you. Uppp and dowwwnnn, not quite letting you take the full thing just yet but still giving you plenty to keep you satisfied.
You watched his reaction to the way you rode him, smiled when you noticed his eyes starting to roll back. You were grinding against him, drawing out the prettiest sounds from him with your hands clasped behind his neck.
“You’re s’fucking…” he grunted, his words suddenly harder to get out. “tight… Jesus Christ, baby. You really didn’t fuck anyone else for 4 months, did you?”
It wasn’t like you had been trying to hide it, but it was still irritating that your body sold you out before you even had the chance to have that conversation with him.
You shook your head sheepishly, a faint warmth decorating your cheeks. “Didn’t -” he was pulling you down further this time, purposefully going deeper as he watched you struggle to form a proper setence. “Didn’t - want… t- to…”
“Didn’t want anyone else inside of you, huh?” His tone was breathy, condescending almost as he continued to maneuver you to his liking. “Didn’t want anyone else to fill up this tight fucking cunt besides me, is that it baby?”
You shook your head again, this time a bit more feverishly while he continued to force your weight down onto him. Your ass now smacking against his thighs with each pump into you.
“I -” you moaned, unable to hold it together the further down you went. “I just want you. O - only you.”
He kissed you, his tongue gently parting your lips as he slowly eased you down onto his length. “I love you.” He whispered.
You tried to say it back but it was lost entirely by the way he thrusted upward without warning and slammed every last blissful inch of himself into you.
Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth dropping open at the feeling of his tip hitting your cervix. You were a dizzy, pouty, leaky mess, looking at him with stars in your eyes as he smirked back at you. "You’re okay, baby. You can take it.”
He had you tilted at just the right angle, lined up beautifully with your g-spot. You were taking in all you could, hips hungrily rocking back and forth against him.
"You're doing so good. Just like that."
You were practically delirious, already teetering on the verge of climax when his thumb found your clit again, creating more featherlight circles and more delicious, hopeless yelps from you.
"Megumi," his name practically echoed across the room, your walls starting to smother him. "I - fuck, baby ‘m -" You tried to bury your face into his shoulder, but he wouldn't let you. His free hand was quickly under your chin, forcing your attention back on him.
"Look at me." his voice was low but thoughtful, his fingers still working relentlessly against you. "Let me fucking see it."
It was enough to break you. To have you suddenly spasming around him as you soaked him. He didn’t stop though no matter how much you squirmed against him. No matter how incredibly loud your cries became. He continued to stretch you, bullying himself into you while still teasing your clit until you were both absolutely shaking.
His lips crashed into yours, hand tangled back into your hair when you felt him start to twitch inside you, filling you up as he groaned against your mouth.
“I love you.” You whispered this time, earning an exhausted smile from him.
He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, admiring the mess he’d made out of you before kissing you again, lavishly this time as he wrapped his arms around your waist.
It was all so natural, so right. As if no time had passed at all between you two. And maybe you were biased because of where you were currently sitting, but his once rough edges looked pretty smooth from this angle.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
1K notes · View notes
k0yaz · 1 month
Note
Hi love 💕 May I request comfort/fluff one shot Arlecchino x fem Reader who developed a terminal illness a few years back and is now often bedridden but is getting better however Arlecchino is still super overprotective of her
white light.
Tumblr media
Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader
CW: sfw, female reader, terminally ill reader, angst, but there’s comfort yay I know yall love this, LOTS of mentions of death, like a ridiculous amount, dw reader doesn’t die but grim reaper bullies us every chance he gets like damn, or is the grim reaper a she, that means my friend is immortal since if death is a woman it’ll never come for them, sorry off topic, very soft arle, yes we love our soft king walskskfj, why is the shower so cold help me, not proofread.
A/N: THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE AND IT TURNED OUT SO NICE HOLY also, school is starting soon so I might have to go on break in couple months but no worries I can find some time to write and it’ll be a while into the year until i actually need a break yk <3 🕯️
Tumblr media
The fluffy layered clouds hovering in the sky slowly parted themselves to reveal illuminating gleams of sunlight pouring into the room through the window curtains situated to the right of your bed. Slow gusts of wind began to join the warmth of the gold light, brushing along your skin and causing an array of goosebumps to bloom along your arm. You were lucky. Not too long back, your immobile body was enveloped into the same bed, a sickly hue painting your face as your pale tinged lips could only part to cough out a few strained noises.
Perhaps the gods had took pity on you? You supposed you’d never figure out the answer as to how your body curved back from a terminal illness in its final stage. It was supposed to be incurable, and your body back then seemed to agree with what should have been. You were dangerously dangling right above the realm of death, only a hair apart from succumbing to your imminent demise. The doctor who noted your worsening state only had a strike of pity in her voice whenever she’d inform Arlecchino of your current condition, shaking her head as the words: “she won’t make it.” muffled through the door seperating your room from the outside.
It hurt to hear. Not for you per say, but more to hear the emptiness in Arlecchino’s voice when she attempted to dismiss the doctor’s words coldly. She didn’t want to hear that. She didn’t want to hear that your condition was only drawing you closer and closer to death, she wanted to hear that you atleast had a small chance of surviving. As much as she tried to choke back the bitter pain in her unwavering voice, she always clung onto that small sliver of hope deep down, internally calling out to a sea of nothingness in hopes that something would come help you.
Sudden news of your recovery, or rather your condition suddenly improving one day was nothing short of a miracle. It shouldn’t have been possible at all. You were around the final month mark, your entire body burning with an agonizing rush of soreness as you wanted to plead for death to take you away from the unbearable discomfort searing every limb of your ghastly and thin form. That night you had gone to bed, hoping to escape the aching pain of your illness eating away at you. That was when you saw it. You dreamt of a faint glow of white light—or was it a slight pale yellow? The dream was vague and confusing, and held no meaning at all. The light simply danced in circles before you as your life trajectory seared across your eyes.
However, the dream must have meant something.
The next morning you had awoken, your body feeling much lighter all of a sudden, as you had the strength to now sit up completely. Hands carefully massaging the thick blanket draped over your lap, you blinked in confusion upon realizing that you were indeed alive and able to sit up. Sure, you were still incapable of moving around or sitting up for long, but originally, you weren’t even able to raise your body a quarter of the way up, as it would simply result in your spine slamming back into the sunken, comfortable mattress.
When the doctor made her way into the room, performing her checkups which she believed to be futile and tragic, her initial expression of sorrow shifted to one of quick shock. This shouldn’t have been even the slightest bit possible. Arlecchino’s reaction was all the more endearing the moment the newly discovered news made its way to her. You’d never forget the rare smile of pure relief and happiness crossing her usually stoic front, seeming as if Arlecchino was glowing in that moment.
She had attempted to clear her throat and position herself upright, concealing the internal delight bubbling in her mind at that moment. The door had softly creaked open, the sway of the old hinges on your bedroom door being the only noise, along with the quiet howls of wind, resounding within the cell of a room that held your life by a mere thread.
You simply sat there, your scrawny form nearly engulfed by the heavy blankets cascaded onto your lap as the light livened the hue of your face. And when that sweet smile made its way onto your lips weakly upon seeing the harbinger hover before your bed, Arlecchino had to suppress every urge of hers to hem you between her arms in a tight hug and never let go. She wanted to embrace you with every drop of love and affection lingering in her heart as her blackened hands tightened into your back, like a promise to never let you go. Since then, your condition had steadily improved. Months passed, and then years. At this very moment, you now had the ability to walk around and perform minor tasks adequately, yet you still remained bedridden for the majority of your time.
A light pain slowly overtook the side of your chest abruptly, drawing out a few heavy coughs from your throat as your palm pushed against your left breast in an attempt to soothe the throb pushing and pulling against your heart. Quiet ticks of the clock seemed to inch in sync with the rugged beats of your heart, both echoing throughout the room in a sort of twisted harmony. Although your condition had gotten better, storms of weakness and coughs would still persist through, as this was quite a serious illness you suffered from.
The silk white blankets enveloped your limp frame, cascading over your body and situated slightly below your chest, while the back of your head burrowed into the pillows to bask in the favorable comfort enshrouded around every outline of your lounged body. Your chest rhythmically rose and fell as you choked out a few labored breaths, still clenching your fingers against the fabric of your loose shirt covering your chest.
Your vision suddenly started a gradual spin, objects within your range slowly drawn out of focus, and not taking long for the spin to pick up the pace as your vision suddenly shifted to a bleary mess of the room. Head tilting back, you rasped out a line of shaky breaths as the frightening episode of dizziness quickly subsided as soon as it began, causing a sense of panic to rush through you briefly while your chest rose and fell in uneven motions from your initial fright. In that very moment, a small screech of wooden hinges caught your attention, your head carefully raising as to not incite any possible negative reaction from your sensitive body.
Swift and heavy clicks of heels prodded across the room, a sound you’d recognize anywhere even if you were miles away. You raised your head barely even level to the headboard, delivering Arlecchino a feeble smile as her eyes softened upon meeting yours. Slowly, you took her hand into yours, palm resting over the top of her defined knuckles as your thumb circled along the cursed gradient of her hands gently. She could only breathe out a grateful sigh, her head dropping in a restful state as she rested herself onto your shoulder affectionately.
“Are you feeling any better?” She almost immediately questioned, her usually composed eyes having a flicker of concern dashed across them. Her eyes wandered along your frail body, the hints of worry still subtly etched onto her face as her grasp on your hand below hers grew increasingly taut and stiff as she awaited your answer. As much as you wanted to chuckle and tell her you were okay, you clearly couldn’t even say that much.
“Hm. Same as usual. Can’t move my legs well today, but I’ll live.” You casually answered, not taking in the impact your words might have placed onto Arlecchino.
Live.
She was so glad you were able to live.
Arlecchino suddenly dragged her teeth along each other, her mouth remaining closed as the grit of her teeth quietly bounced off of her cheek into her eardrums. It took everything she had to swallow back that wretched feeling boiling up to her throat, her heart wrenching and flooding with discomfort upon hearing the way you threw your life around so casually in your words. She had always been extensively protective over you ever since your condition deteriorated, yet it grew exponentially once you began to recover over the years. She’d always tend to you, sometimes never leaving your side for hours on end as she’d just sit there, head lowered and lips pushed against your frail hand.
Her grip on your hand tensed noticeably, making you shift your eyes up to her lowered dark gaze, staring off into an endless abyss as her expression just seemed…soulless and empty at the mere thought of your passing away. She was afraid. Afraid that just when she believes that her beloved would live despite being in poor condition, she’d walk into your room one day to discover your heart dead still, body completely limp and deceased.
The thought of that made her hand noticeably quiver between yours, disturbing images of your possible sudden death plaguing her mind like a broken subliminal record trying to shatter her soul by tearing away the one person she loves most in this cruel world. It was indeed cruel, as this very world had targeted the reaper to loom over the side of your bed at all times, carefully awaiting the moment to take you away from Teyvat. Arlecchino internally cursed herself at the idea that perhaps this punishment was because of her. She wanted you to be spared. You weren’t the one with blood on your hands, she was.
Despite her agonizing thoughts gnawing at the back of her mind, your sudden firm grip on her hand made her head snap back up abruptly, eyes locking onto your thin fingers cupping her shaky hand in place. If she could, Arlecchino would cry at this very moment, allow herself to shed a couple tears. Yet she knew she couldn’t. She didn’t want to worry you any further, especially in your current state.
“Arle, I’m staying. Please, don’t worry about me. I am better now, right?”
“I know. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t around.”
It was evident that Arlecchino had a difficult time a few years ago, when you were announced to die in under a couple months. She had to mentally prepare herself to lose you soon. She was used to it, you were just another person in her life that slipped away too soon, right?
But she couldn’t.
She couldn’t bear losing you. It was too much even for her.
Arlecchino needed you in her life, and she’d wipe out the entirety of the world just to keep you safe.
Your hand reached up to graze along the skin of her cheek, smiling as she instinctively leaned into your touch. Her eyes fluttered shut as she held your hand in place against her cheek, opening her eyelids once more to gaze at you lovingly with red x-marked eyes.
“Hey Arle, I’m still not feeling the best today…so do you think you could-“
You didn’t even get a chance to finish your hesitant sentence as she lowered herself onto the side of your bed, squeezing herself next to you as her arms gently circled your torso and grasped you against her. You only hummed out a content sigh as you felt your slouched back press to her upright chest, the difference in your postures just making the moment oddly romantic and sweet. Arlecchino’s face buried into your shoulder, intaking a soft inhale as if she missed your scent clouding her senses every time she was close to you.
It didn’t take long for you to drift off to sleep in Arlecchino’s arms as you curled up into the warm blankets piled over both of you. Arlecchino, still awake, quietly shifted her weight onto her side to glance down at you, smiling softly upon seeing your peaceful rested expression. Maybe finally, she rinsed the lingering blood splattered on her hands that led you to this awful fate. She’d rinse it a thousand times if it meant that you would remain safe like this for as long as you lived.
However in this very moment? Arlecchino had forgotten every sense of dread clawing at her constantly, instead focusing on your huddled up form engulfed between her protective grasp.
She swore that she would never let you go again, and she would treasure every inch of you. Not even death can do you two part.
Tumblr media
A/N: omg I kept switching between being proud of this and being not so proud bc I had to stop midway through and I lost my train of thought AUUUSHSHDBFN anyway yayayayashshdhd I loved writing this so much AND CALM DOWN ON THE ARLE REQUESTS HOLY SH-
ok bye I’m gonna go on character ai cause I can’t sleep to bed
424 notes · View notes
seventeenytiny · 2 months
Text
SKZ - You Struggle with Pain During Sex
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
SMUT MDNI
Warnings: Smut MDNI, oral sex, cockwarming Word Count: 565 Author's Note: This is for all my girlies who don't always have the best time during sex. Be sure to talk to your obgyn to make sure there's not an underlying issue :)
Bang Chan - As soon as you inform him of the issue, he immediately starts researching what he can do to help. After reading through numerous medical pages and blogs, he comes up with a few ideas. He gets multiple types of lube for both of you to try, to see if that helps alleviate your discomfort. When you guys do have sex, he constantly checks in with you to see if the position is comfortable. If not, he switches it up. If nothing seems to feel good he might suggest cockwarming. Even if the two of you can't actually have sex he still feels satisfied just spooning you from behind with his cock buried in your pussy. He swears he could fall asleep like that.
Lee Know - He feels bad that you can't enjoy sex the way he can. His solution? Lots of oral sex. He already loves eating you out, so now he does it even more. He has no problem pulling orgasm after orgasm out of you. If you're feeling up to PIV sex afterward that's just an added bonus.
Changbin - He takes such good care of you. As soon as you mention you're in pain, he stops everything and pulls out. He'd suggest trying again another day to see if the problem persists. Like Chan, he's also a big fan of cockwarming. Holding you close without moving significantly reduces your pain but still makes you two feel good.
Hyunjin - He decides to give you a nice sensual massage when you have pain during sex. He takes some lube and uses it as massage oil, gently massaging your entire body. He starts by rubbing the knots out of your shoulders before gradually moving down to your pussy. His hands massage your thighs and gently approach your core. He expertly rubs your clit, coaxing out an orgasm.
Jisung - After you tell him about the issue, he buys you a brand-new vibrator. He starts incorporating it into your intimate moments, and it's honestly the best thing ever. Sometimes you'll put the vibrator against the tip of his cock while you grind on it with your clit. This will have the both of you cumming at the exact same time.
Felix - He's such a sweetie about the whole situation. He would be the type to suggest that you talk to your OBGYN about your issues. He'd even accompany you to your appointments to make you feel better. He feels really bad about you experiencing pain during something that's supposed to be pleasurable. He would buy you every toy he can find that might bring you pleasure.
Seungmin - He'd suggest trying some mutual masturbation. He doesn't want to cause you any discomfort so it's best for him to just watch you pleasure yourself as he does the same. Doing this allows you to find what's comfortable for your body as well, possibly leading to more PIV sex in the future.
I.N - He'd notice your face wincing in pain and stop everything immediately. He'd ask why you didn't say anything if you were uncomfortable. Once you explain to him that you didn't want to disappoint him, so you sucked it up, he feels even worse. The two of you decide to just get creative with your hands, he knows how much you love his hands anyway. The two of you take turns drawing orgasms out of one another.
1K notes · View notes
Cold-hearted wolf
Tumblr media
Pairing: Cregan Stark × Martell reader
Tags: arranged marriage, cregan starts out mean in this, enemies to lovers cus he's grumpy and has no time for feelings,
Chapter 3: the way he's obsessed with you, can't stop thinking impure thoughts while he's away, the calm before the sex... pick your favorite.
Note: I made up a war with Highgarden subplot that's not Canon. Ahem, for the plot, so bare with me.
Cregan Stark sat inside a tent with his face twisted in a mix of pain and discomfort. The maester carefully worked to stitch up a nasty gash that ran from his neck to his lower abdomen, courtesy of an enemy soldier's sword. He had little pity for the other man when he cut him clean through the heart with his own blade. The wound was a battle scar from the successful siege, a strategic victory that had his soldiers celebrating and chearing outside.
One of Cregan's knights entered the tent, bearing two pints. He handed one to his injured ruler. "This ale should ease the pain, my lord."
Cregan took the offered drink. "Bring more. This stitching feels personal."
The old man, still focused on his task, dismissed Cregan's jest. "Your Highness, if you'd stop squirming, it would help."
Cregan held still as the maester continued his work. "How many casualties did we suffer?"
The knight looked thoughtful for a moment. "Surprisingly low, my lord. The plan was exceptional."
Cregan's gaze shifted to the ground, and a sense of guilt crept over him. The plan that had proven so effective during the battle was one that you had worked on together. Right before he rudely discarded you. Your tactical insights and knowledge of warfare had been instrumental to saving his and his men's lives today. "I should have listened to her sooner.”
“My lord?”
“Lady y/n.” Cregan specified.
The knight nodded in understanding.
The maester stitching spoke up. “It takes time to see the wisdom in others, my lord. We can only strive to make amends."
Cregan hated being proven wrong. He kept his mouth shut.
As the stitching neared completion, the knight spoke up, "You've fought well today.”
Cregan shook his head with a satisfied smile. "I can't take all the credit. Tyrell's sword was his own downfall.” His enemy's weapon, though notoriously giant, was unwieldy, and Cregan, younger, more agile, and more practiced with his weapon, found his opening.
With the gash stitched and the pain somewhat subsiding, Cregan took another sip of ale. He couldn't help but feel a need to have you close. To celebrate with you, and thank you for your strategy, which was invaluable to his cause. He wanted you beside him in the next council meeting.
But you were far off, warm, and safe in Winterfell. No doubt giving his sister an earful about what an awful husband he's been if the letters he's received from her were any indication.
I like her very much, Cregan. And if you open your mind you would come to like her too. Also, it would help if you'd stop behaving like an ass.
The thought of you two getting along made him smile. Even if it was at his expense.
He was ashamed to admit there was truth to your accusation that night. No, he had not seen you as an equal. How could he?
What could you possibly know of the plight of living in the harsh and unforgiving environment of the North. Of its values and way of life. He'd read about Dornish life in his studies. Sunspear was warmth, music, dancing, and hedonism, literally the opposite of Winterfell. This showed to be true the moment you stepped foot on his grounds. You, with your carefree attitude and enticing dresses, perhaps accepted in your culture, but downright scandalous in his.
He remembered his anger in the hot springs when he heard the men going on about your wardrobe.
“I'd like to see if the Dornish sun forgot a few places.”
They were only jesting. Men, especially soldiers, made vulgar jokes all the time. But the fact that his men spoke about you in such a way made his blood boil hotter than the springs underneath the palace grounds.
All it took was a look from Cregan, and the man shut his mouth, swallowing nervously. But Cregan's anger didn't subside so easily.
He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, remembering taking his frustration out in your bedroom that same day he heard the vulgar comment, and the two more times that evening, and once more the next morning. His hands gripped his chair, mimicking the possessive way he'd held you with every thrust.
He wondered if you questioned why he was so upset. Although even if you did, judging by your whimpers and moans, you didn't seem to mind.
He laughed. Maybe his sister was right. Stubbornness was something you two definitely had in common.
Visions of you flooded his mind. Walking around with a high brow, flaunting your skin freely with seductive silks for his court to admire. Looking elegant and graceful while flipping him onto his back in the training yard. Unknowingly offering up a fantasy of an exotic warrior princess from the far south to hungry and repressed northern eyes… all just so you could prove a point.
----------------------------------------------------------
War was a lonely ordeal. And despite the women from the neighboring towns being more than happy to keep his men company, Cregan’s mind kept finding flaws in each of them.
Their lack of quiet defiance made them too agreeable, he decided. Although, no, not only that. It was also the missing fire in their eyes, the missing pride. They also had the wrong color hair and the wrong length, too. And on top of that, their clothing was also too... cold, yes. Too modest.
The gods help him. He was fucked.
Amidst the noise of his tent, he sat at a table surrounded by his men who were drinking and celebrating. The soft glow of candlelight cast a warm ambiance in the night. A raven's message had arrived, and he quickly sloppily unfurled the parchment, his eyes scanning the words eagerly.
The letter was from you, recounting the events of the day. "In an attempt to offer you a change of scenery, I will try to paint an image of how things are back home.” Your handwriting said. “Winterfell is alight with celebration of your victory. The town square was full of life. The common folks greeted me with glee and danced and sang. I even tried deer meat at an inn. It was… chewey."
A corner of his mouth lifted as he red the letter in your voice.
"You are well loved and admired, my lord. And missed. Also, please pet Grey for me as he is dearly missed as well."
A chuckle escaped Cregan's lips as he reached over to scratch his loyal dog behind the ear before continuing to read. "I even showed one boy how to use my Dornish blade. My favorite one."
Your willingness to connect with his people - your people, he corrected himself, was quite marvelous. A smile tugged at the corners of Cregan's lips as he pictured you among the celebrating townsfolk. He felt a painful pull at his chest, his hands itching for your skin.
He wondered, not for the first time, how he could remedy his actions of your last night together before he marched off. Regretfully recalling the fire and hurt in your eyes.
It would take more than a letter to make up for it. Cregan was neither poet nor a man of many words. He took action. He needed to fix this the only way he knew how.
The next day, he helped his squires and men pack the Stark army camp. With victory secured, they would be marching back to Winterfell.
Cregan was coming home.
@malfoycassimalfoy @leahnicole1219 @literishdegree99
457 notes · View notes
deedeeznoots · 4 months
Text
Not the Strongest Anymore 
Tumblr media
➺ Characters: Satoru Gojo, GN!Reader 
➺ Word Count: 3.1k
➺ Genre: Fluff, Mild Angst 
➺ Content: Reverse Comfort, Established Relationship, Non Sorcerer!Reader, Injured!Gojo, Mentions of Blood 
➺ A/N: I made this story because Gojo deserves someone to take care of him and give him a million hugs :( 
➺ Synopsis: When the Strongest sorcerer and your lover Satoru Gojo suddenly barges into your shared home bloodied and injured beyond belief, you make it your priority to heal him. However, you get suspicious when you notice him continuously dodging questions related to how he sustained those injuries. 
Tumblr media
Water. 
That was the only thing that filled your senses. Whether it was the feeling of the warm water on your hands as you washed the dishes, or the soft plop plop plop as single droplets of rain made their way on the glass pane of your window. Yeah… water, that was what surrounded you on this night.
As you look out the window, you think of nothing but Satoru. Being the strongest sorcerer, your lover often worked early mornings and late nights. This was something he was accustomed to since he was a teenager. By extension, it was something you grew to get used to as well. It wasn’t that you were particularly fond of him being away for an entire day, or sometimes days on end, but it wasn’t like you could say anything. This wasn’t a normal job he could call off for, and you loved him so much that you wanted to stick by him, no matter the possible dangers that entailed. 
Still…you had an odd feeling in your chest. Think of it as intuition from being with Satoru for so long. You had the smallest feeling of something being off, and you felt it in your bones. After finishing up on washing the dishes, you looked out the window for any trace of your partner. “It’s getting pretty late, I wonder what he’s up to”, you thought out loud. Unfortunately, your mind jumps to the worst case scenarios. You thought about monstrous curses and curse users with terrible intentions. Satoru always got the worst of the missions, always being relied on to deal with the most dangerous of work. Your body shivers at all the things he must have seen, what it must be like to be expected to handle the worst sins of society. It was something you wouldn’t have wished upon anyone, let alone the love of your life. 
You shouldn’t be thinking like this. These thoughts would only make things worse, after all. So you shake your head to try and keep the thoughts at bay. “He’s probably fine” you said to yourself, walking away from the window and deciding to head to bed. Sleep… that’s what you should do right now. Then once you’re awake he’ll be by your side, just like normal. He’s perfectly fine.
Almost as if on cue, the man of the hour comes in, loudly barging in through the door. 
“Satoru!” you yelled out, before gasping at the sight. 
Before you was Satoru on the floor, bloodied and wet. He had wounds of differing severity all over his body… and the blood. Oh, the blood. There was so much of it, combining with the water to make a small puddle underneath Satoru’s pained body. You were used to Satoru coming home slightly injured sometimes, but this… this was something else. It was a truly terrible sight, so terrible that you froze for half a second, trying to process what you were seeing. 
Cough. Cough. The sound of Satoru coughing up blood before passing out in front of you snapped you out of your thoughts. You had to take care of him, and you had to do it fast. 
When Satoru opens his eyes, he finds himself lying down in your shared bedroom. He groans in agony and discomfort, feeling pain in seemingly every cell of his body. He has no knowledge on how he got home, other than hazy memories of trying to get to you in the rain, which based on context clues, he assumes he was successful. He turns his head to look for you, which causes his body to give a jolting rush of pain at his attempts to move. 
“Don’t move”, your voice hits his ears, and he finally looks at you, sighing in relief as he sees your face. You’re here… thank God. In excitement, he sits up, ignoring the pain that his body is in. “Satoru…” you say in a warning tone, and he apologizes, though he’s already sat up. You’re covered in blood, his blood, but you don’t seem to have much of a reaction, only focused on his wellbeing. 
He sees the clock and notices that it’s nearly 4:00 AM. He was probably knocked out for at least a few hours. Realizing that you took care of him this late into the night fills his heart with glee. He looked down at his body and noticed the bandages all over himself. You attempt to bandage him up some more, getting to the spots that you couldn’t reach while he was lying down, but Satoru stops you. 
“Don’t do that”, he says with a smile, his voice laced with honey. His hand lightly grabs your arm to stop you, before he lets go. “Watch this,” he says like he’s a frat guy who learned a new party trick. His hand moves to one of the wounds on his body, and he attempts to use Reverse Cursed Technique on the injury. You giggle and patiently watch as he works on his wound. 
“Voila!” he dramatically shouts out as his hand moves away from his wound. What he didn’t expect though, was for the wound to stay the same. “Uhhh…” he awkwardly blinks at the painful injury, believing if he looked at it long enough, he could somehow make the wound to heal out of sheer will. 
“You don’t have enough cursed energy, my love…” you say to him. Even though you weren’t a sorcerer, you certainly knew enough to understand that any chance of Satoru healing himself at the state he was in is something out of wishes and dreams. You lovingly ruffle his white hair and go “Don’t push yourself, okay? It’s not anything like Reverse Cursed Technique, but I think I’m pretty good at healing the regular way” you laugh and give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. 
Satoru accepts the kiss but still grimaces at the fact that he couldn’t heal himself. “I called Shoko but she’s away for a while, so this will have to do until you get your Cursed Energy back” you say while still rubbing his head, tangling his hair in your hands. Satoru nods. He was okay with that, more than okay, actually. He would rather have you heal him rather than Shoko or another doctor anyway.
“What happened out there, anyways?” you ask nonchalantly. Satoru just gives you a goofy smile and says “You know, I have no idea!”. He’s lying, you knew him long enough to know that. Plus, he was a terrible liar. You ignore it though, that could be dealt with another time. For now, your biggest priority was taking care of his wounds. Now understanding that he couldn’t use RCT, he allowed you to clean and patch up his wounds. Despite the agonizing pain he was in, he savored every moment of your touch, feeling warm inside at the prospect of you taking care of him. He usually dreaded being healed by other people, but this felt different. This felt… intimate, like a moment only you two shared together. 
“There you go!” you say with a smile as you finish patching him up, proud of the work you did to help bring him less pain. “Now…” you say, “Are you hungry? I can make you some food”. 
“Nah, I’m okay,” Satoru lied. He doesn’t remember when the last time he ate was, and the injuries weren’t helping. However… he didn’t want you to leave his side, so he opted to just deal with it, it’ll probably be fine, he thought.
His body had other plans though, and you hear the soft grumble of his stomach. You give him a stern look, and he scratches the back of his head, knowing he got caught. You give him one last look before turning away, “I’ll go make some soup”. 
“Noooo…” he whines, grabbing your arm “It’s really okay, I promise, let’s just go to bed”. 
“Satoru…” you give him another warning call, before moving closer to him, cupping his face. You give him a kiss on the lips, still careful to not worsen any of his wounds. As you pull away, you touch your forehead to his, and tell him “It’ll be no more than ten minutes, okay?”. He knows he’s not getting through to you, so he nods with a pout on his lips, and leaves you with one last kiss before seeing you off. So cute! You thought, but you knew better than to tease him while he was already down.
“I’ll leave the door open so call if you need anything” is the last thing you say as you walk away.
You’re back in no time, just as you promised. This time, with some hot soup in your hands. He tries to take matters into his own hands and feed himself, but you lightly smack his hand away, insisting that you feed him. “You’ll spill soup all over yourself” you tell him, as you bring the hot liquid to his mouth. He complies and quickly finishes his meal. As he feels his hunger slowly subsiding, he feels you slowly bring his head down to his pillow and feels you make your way next to him on the other side of the bed. 
Next to him, you slowly caress his face in a way that only communicates one thing: I was so scared. You didn’t want to say it out loud to not bother him even more, and he didn’t need to hear you say it to understand. So… you both simply lied together, slowly drifting off to sleep as the pressures of the terrifying world around you slowly disappeared from the small little bubble you two built together. 
When Satoru wakes up the next day, the first thing he notices is the fact that you’re not by his side. The moment he notices this, he quickly sits up from his sleeping position and his eyes dart from place to look for you. He doesn’t see you, but he can sense the faintest smell of pancakes coming from outside the bedroom. Like a child on Christmas Day, he excitedly gets up from the bed toward the direction of the pancakes. He nearly falls over a few times due to the stinging pain on his ankles, but he is not deterred, and he makes his way to where you are in the kitchen. 
The sight before him was gorgeous. You… in his shirt, flipping some buttermilk pancakes over the stove. It was a dream come true for him. When you notice him out of bed, you begin to freak out a little bit. “Satoru! You shouldn’t have gotten out of bed by yourself!” you chastise, to which Satoru simply shrugs. You don’t completely blame him though, the smell of anything sweet could lure Satoru into a volcano if he deemed it enticing enough. So you simply tell him to sit down and rest at the table and that you are almost done cooking. Satoru excitedly complied, happily listening to your command and waiting patiently for breakfast. 
He had a warm feeling in his stomach while he watched you make him breakfast. He didn’t ask for you to do that, but you did. Thinking about it… he didn’t ask for you to do anything. He wasn’t used to being cared for in this way by anyone, and it made him feel all sorts of funny feelings. What was going on? He thought to himself.
He wasn’t given much time to ponder, however, as you placed a large stack of pancakes in front of him. Hesitantly, you also gave him some syrup on the side in a little container. “I know you love your pancakes sweet but don’t put too much my love, it’ll upset your stomach” you tell him, knowing he probably wouldn’t listen. You aren’t sure why you enable his sweets addiction so much, maybe it’s because of how much his eyes glow with happiness every time you let him slide. Yeah… the little glint of glee in his eyes, that’s what you live for, and that’s why you let him get away with any sweets-related mischief. 
The fact that you care so much about something as little as a stomach ache makes Satoru feel all fuzzy inside once again… but as you expected, he didn’t listen. On the contrary, he nearly douses his pancakes in as much syrup as possible, beaming with glee as he takes large bites out of the fluffy buttermilk goodness. 
As you both enjoy your meal, you decide that it’s a good enough time to once again ask Satoru the question that has continued to bug you since last night. “Satoru…” you place your fork down, which causes the man in front of you to look up “Hm?”. 
“What could you have possibly fought last night for you to end up like… like this?” you eye him up and down, pointing out the obvious. Satoru looked better now, sure, but that was more of a commentary on how messed up he was last night than how well he’s doing. If he was a normal person, Satoru would not even be able to move a finger. This wasn’t normal, even for Satoru, and you needed to know what was going on. 
“I really don’t know” Satoru laughs, he’s lying again, what was with this guy? You consider pushing the subject, but eventually you decide to just let it go for now. You can talk to him once he’s more healed. For now, you’re just glad that he’s alive and seemingly alright. 
After breakfast, Satoru once again attempts to use RCT to heal himself, and once again, it does not work. He curses to himself in frustration, “It’s okay Satoru… you’ll just have to take a break like the rest of us. I’m sure the world will be fine without Satoru Gojo for a day” you laugh. He grumbles at the thought, not being used to sitting still for so long, but he accepts defeat and decides that he’d enjoy spending the day with you anyways.
You spend the majority of the day being spooned by Satoru on the couch and hate-watching all the terrible TV shows cable television has to offer. “Man, I can’t believe they even air this stuff still” Satoru laughs at the screen as you turn away to face him. Looking at him up close, you pay closer attention to some of his scars, and notice something odd. Observing the wounds, you notice that some of them appeared to be recurring, as if they were healed using RCT but then cut through again. You feel Satoru’s chest vibrate as he laughs, causing you to snap out of your thoughts, but you keep thinking anyway. Something was really off. 
You have to basically drag Satoru into the bedroom to get him to rest. “But I’m not tireddddd…” he cries out “I don’t care. You can’t watch the TV for too long or it’ll strain your eyes, you know that better than anyone” you tell him as you get him to lie down on the bed. “Plus…” you add on with a smile, “I want to be the big spoon this time” you say as you bring him closer to your body. This causes him to to softly smile and close his eyes as you asked him to, though he doesn’t sleep. 
You keep holding him close, kissing his head and playing with his hair. You also kiss his ears, but that causes him to shiver and he says “Stop! It tickles, hehe”. You don’t stop, of course, knowing he secretly loves it when you mess with him. 
As you caress him through the night, you notice the small frown that begins to appear on his face, as he looks lost in thought. This saddens you a little. You’ve tried your best to be open with him, from the moment the two of you began dating. It took a while for him to take down his walls, and it still remains something he clearly struggled in, not wanting to appear weak. Despite this, you loved him. You loved that he trusted you enough to be this close to him. You loved that he allowed you to take care of him, no matter how hard it was for him. You loved Satoru, and you wanted to communicate that at every moment. 
“You know, I love yo–” 
“It wasn’t just one mission. It was multiple” Satoru suddenly spoke.  
“…What?” You softly asked him, not fully understanding what he meant. 
Satoru turned around to look you in the eyes. There, he explained the story of what happened last night. How he was slowly worn down from each mission he took. It started getting bad when he lost so much cursed energy that he was not able to fully hold up infinity, opening him up for hits from attackers. Despite this, he kept getting called on missions, and he kept going on them. Choosing to ignore any of the injuries he sustained until he was fully pushed to the edge. 
He’s essentially boiled down to a blubbering mess as he attempts to communicate with you, and you’re hardly able to understand him. You feel his warm tears on your chest as he tells the story, and you’re trying your best to keep up with this new information. However, one particular thing he tells you as he holds you close causes your eyes to widen.
“I…I didn’t want to tell you, because I didn’t want you to keep worrying about me”. 
The fact that he felt this way broke your heart, and you held him even closer. You tried your best not to hold onto him too tight in order to not cause him too much pain. “Satoru…” you coo, explaining that he shouldn’t ever feel the need to hide anything from you. You kiss his forehead as you wipe his tears, something he fully leans into. 
“Why did you keep going on missions even though you were hurt though?” you ask, trying to be as soft as possible. You didn’t want to make it sound like you were berating him. 
His blue eyes look up at you confused, as if you asked him the stupidest question in the world. He thinks for a moment, trying to find the right words, when he says, “I…I have to. If I stop being the Strongest and going on missions, what will there be left to see?” He looks down at his own palm as he says these words. 
Your heart breaks even more hearing that Satoru feels this way, but he keeps going “You know… sometimes I don’t understand you”. You look at him confused, “You keep looking after me and taking care of me despite me being so weak that I can barely even move. Even when I try to be strong and do things on my own, you stop me. You stop me from being the Strongest… I don’t understand that.” 
When he finishes his sentence, you give him a kiss on the head and hold him even tighter. As you hold him, you tell him, “Well I certainly admire the Strongest, but…” you cup his face, looking directly into his bright blue eyes “…My favorite person will always be Satoru Gojo, because only Satoru can lie on the couch to laugh at bad TV shows with me… only Satoru puts absurd amounts of syrup in his pancakes…” you both laugh, “…and while the Strongest protects the world outside, only Satoru can come home to lie next to me”. You then give him a passionate kiss, hoping to put all your love into the act, something to help him understand the full depths of your love for him.
Pulling away, Satoru leans into your chest once again, and only says “Thank you… I love you too, by the way” he giggles before falling asleep in your arms. 
Satoru still had a long way to go in order to fully bring down his walls in front of you, but this… being able to spend a day with someone he loved so much and for the first time in his life, do absolutely nothing. That was certainly a good start. 
-
A/N: Like Gojo? He’s also mentioned in this fic and this fic! <3 
554 notes · View notes
slytherinshua · 4 months
Text
2AM CRISIS
genre. comfort. sickfic. warnings. reader is sick specifically throwing up so don't read if you find that rly gross... some comments abt it being reader's first time sleeping over and the hyungs being extremely cautious lmfao. not proofread. pairing. yujin x fem!reader. wc. 1k. request. requested by @theriizeler a/n. i hope this makes u feel better dodo :(( first time writing yujin i hope i did okay he's rly such a sweetheart :( ppl need to write more for him cause i get not writing for him cause of his age but he's always skipped over...
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Ew…” Yujin mumbled, crouched on the floor of the bathroom with you as you heaved again. For this being your first time sleeping over (with extremely watchful eyes from Hao and Hanbin), it definitely was not going as planned. You had felt something was wrong the entire day, but your boyfriend Yujin was so excited to spend the night with you that you didn’t have the heart to cancel on him.
You should have trusted your gut, though, because now you were throwing up in the toilet in painful gags, your throat burning and a disgusting acidic aftertaste left in your mouth. Was it something you had eaten? Or maybe you had caught a stomach bug at school… You envied your boyfriend for evading it, though you guess it made sense. He rarely attended because of his schedule.
“Stay right there.” Yujin whispered, getting up and leaving the bathroom to find some water for you. 
He didn’t have much experience taking care of someone since he was usually the one always being pampered and babied. He tried his best to recall what his mom and Hao had done when he had gotten sick, but the memory was foggy as he had mostly just slept until he felt better. They did force him to take some horrible-tasting medicine, though… God, did he have to persuade you to do that as well? He’d rather just die than possibly give you an excuse to despise him.
Once he was back with a bottle of water, he handed it to you and sat back down on the floor of the bathroom. It was almost 2 am by now, and he wasn’t exactly sure what to do. He could see tears prickling at your lashes, and his absolute worst fear in the world was seeing you cry. He had no idea how he’d make the tears stop once they started.
You swished your mouth with the water and spat again into the toilet before taking a proper drink. The cool water soothed your burning throat, but it didn’t ease all the discomfort. You still felt like shit, and your stomach still hurt. Your head was also pounding, but it wasn’t as bad as the nausea. 
You turned back to Yujin who’s eyes were blown big and confused, though you could tell he was worried about you. His under eyes looked tired and you suddenly felt really bad for waking him up to go puke in his bathroom. If you had been able to get up without disturbing him, then you would have. But he had fallen asleep clinging to you like a koala, and there was no way to escape his grasp without waking him up.
“I’m sorry… you should just go back to sleep.” You muttered, but Yujin was quick to shake his head.
“I can’t just leave you throwing up by yourself… I’ll stay until you’re ready to go back to bed.” He told you, stroking your hair gently. You tried to breathe steadily in hopes of stopping the urge to throw up again, but it didn’t work. You quickly pushed Yujin’s hand away from your face and discarded more of yesterday’s meal into the bowl. Both you and Yujin grimaced in sync, and he hesitantly pulled back your hair and stroked your back.
The tears that you had tried to keep at bay finally started to stream down your face. You hated everything about the situation. You felt awful, not just physically, but for ruining your first sleepover with Yujin like this. No one wanted to be sitting next to their girlfriend who couldn’t stop vomiting at 2 am. 
“Don’t cry— please, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Yujin panicked. The only thing he could think of doing was offering you more water, which you took amidst broken sobs. He wrapped his arms around you hesitantly, knowing that he always calmed down in your arms. Maybe it would help you, as well. Your sobs slowed a bit, in turn slowing down Yujin’s anxiously beating heart. 
“Hey, what if I just get you a bowl? You can keep it by the bed and then you won’t have to stay here on the floor, hm? We can cuddle too… if you want?” You would’ve smiled at how cute Yujin’s suggestion was if you weren’t too focused on calming yourself down. You knew he was trying his best, and while he was a bit slow on ways to help (you were pretty sure there were some pills to help with nausea that Hanbin had bought last time Gyuvin had felt nauseous during a shoot, but you were certain that your boyfriend had no idea where they were stored), his presence alone was enough to make things a little better.
“Yeah… let’s just do that.” You agreed, standing up slowly. You flushed the toilet and rinsed your mouth once more with water. While Yujin was getting a metal bowl for you, you brushed your teeth, relieved that your mouth no longer had the awful aftertaste of stomach acid.
Once you were back under the blankets on the mattresses that the older members had set up on the floor of the living room (which was almost too overkill as neither you nor Yujin would even think to attempt anything like that, protesting Hao’s carefully thought of set-up would’ve seemed even more suspicious), you felt your stomach ease a bit. 
You curled up against Yujin’s chest, wanting nothing more than to be as close as possible to him. The soap and shampoo scents from his earlier shower lingered on his skin, and you were surprised at how effective it was in stopping your nausea and relaxing you. Your head was still pounding, but you’d take the pain over feeling sick. Maybe you would even be able to get some sleep again like this.
Your boyfriend kissed your forehead and started talking softly, trying to get you to fall asleep to the lull of his voice. It was extremely effective and you found yourself dozing off within minutes. You smiled when the last thing you heard Yujin say was a whispered “feel better soon, princess.”
↳ zerobaseone taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @okshu,, @chewryy,, @haecien,, @sobun1est,,
@emmylksblog,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @chenleszone
419 notes · View notes
iiseult · 5 months
Note
Oooh open requests! May I have King Baldwin with a wife reader who sweetly helps him treat his wounds regardless of how he tells her not to come into direct contact with his skin? Please, do it nice and fluffy, if it's not too much trouble! Thank you!
Wedding Night: Baldwin IV x reader
CWs → fluff, probable historical inaccuracies, she/her pronouns, leprosy, christianity and mentions of god, reader and baldwin just got married!
Note: This is the first request I've ever responded to! Thank you so much for sending it in, I really hope you enjoy! <3 Also this was supposed to be a drabble but I got carried away
Wordcount: 2k
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞
Baldwin was laying on his stomach with his bandaged arms and legs stretched out across the large mattress, and his face nuzzled into a plush pillow. The day had been strenuous for him, requiring much more standing than he was accustomed to, and his body ached terribly. Though originally just on his hands and face, the disease had recently spread up past his wrist and onto a small patch of his back, causing an uncomfortable burning sensation every time his clothing brushed against it. He was waiting for his physician to arrive and apply his nightly soothing salve, which usually helped to relieve some of the discomfort that resulted from the intense dryness of his skin. But when the door opened, instead of his physician, it was you. 
Hastily, he sat up, looking around to find something to cover himself with. Besides the bandages wrapped around his ribcage, arms, and the middle of his face, the only thing he had on was a pair of white linen shorts. You covered your mouth and giggled as he scrambled to grab his robe from the nearby chair it was draped over.
“My lord, that really won’t be necessary. I’m only going to take it right back off once you put it on,” you said playfully, closing the door behind you and sauntering towards him. You were carrying a small basket in your left hand. He furrowed his brow and instinctually clutched the fabric to his chest, hoping it covered most of his exposed skin. A wave of heat rushed to his head, and he suddenly felt a bit dizzy.  
“Lady Y/N– I mean, Your Highness, what are you doing here?” he asked, his voice betraying his mild panic as his eyes followed you across the bedroom. You had changed out of your wedding gown in favor of a tightly fitting dress of a deep emerald green and a low neckline– typical attire for a bride on her wedding night. Heat rose to his cheeks as he admired his new queen’s attractive figure, on display just for him. He really hadn’t been expecting this. You had to know that, given his condition, consummating the marriage would be more trouble than it was worth, and attempting to sire an heir with him would be a completely fruitless endeavor. Why, then, were you standing before him, looking like the very picture of grace and beauty? You smiled gently at him, setting down the basket and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. 
“Let me help you. Please, lie back down so I can take those bandages off,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. You waited a moment, but he only gawked, eyes still shamelessly concentrating on your choice of wardrobe. You sighed and placed a hand over his bandaged one, looking deeply into his eyes. 
“I promise I’ll be gentle.” 
He hummed sadly, shaking his head no, knowing he could not give you what you wanted. 
“I believe that you would, but I cannot allow it. If you were to come into contact with my bare skin…” he trailed off. You bit your lip. You knew he wouldn’t agree to it. 
He noticed your disappointment, and his eyes softened a little. 
“Look at you, your skin is so pure…if anything were to happen to it on my account, I could never forgive myself. Not only because of the pain it would inflict upon you, but also for my own selfish reasons.” He spoke slowly, letting his words sink in. 
“My wife, you are so beautiful, and so smart. You have so much to give, and you are everything I am not. If you were to put yourself at risk of becoming like me, you would be condemning yourself to a short, bitter life of wasted potential. Though I may not be long for this world, I want to spend the remainder of my days admiring you and all that you bring. Please do not forsake the gifts God has given you for fleeting desires of the flesh,” he begged. His blue eyes were so wide, pleading, swimming with genuine emotion, but it wasn’t enough to break you. You knew what you wanted.
“Baldwin,” you said, addressing him directly for the first time, “Just this once, please. Let me do this for you.” 
You tugged lightly at the fabric bunched up in his grasp. He resigned, allowing you to pull it away and discard it at the foot of the bed, leaving his mostly bare chest exposed to your intimate gaze. No woman had ever seen this much of him before. He watched as your eyes traced his body, beginning at his delicate neck and protruding collar bones, then down to the smooth expanse of creamy skin covering his chest, and finally to his well-defined middle. Those parts of him had yet to be contaminated by his affliction. You had yet to ever come into contact with his bare skin, but the way you were studying him, he could almost feel the sweet sensation of your fingertips ghosting over his body. 
“Y/N, I’m sorry if you had hopes of…enjoying a true wedding night with me, but I must be honest with you, even if it does cause me great pain and regret-” 
You hushed him quietly, clasping his hand in yours a little tighter. 
“No, my love, you don’t have to explain to me. I understand. That is not what I came for. I simply wanted to take care of my husband.” You smiled, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you gazed down at him lovingly. He let out a breath and untensed his shoulders, relieved that he wasn’t letting you down after all. The sight of you smiling down at him with all the love in the world melted his heart, and his resolve broke. 
“Alright. But please promise me you will cleanse yourself thoroughly afterwards. We must do everything we can to prevent the spread,” he whispered, dropping his hand to allow you to have your way with him. 
Slowly, carefully, you reached for him, stretching your fingertips out and finally grazing them against the middle of his chest. He inhaled sharply, watching in awe. Your touch was feather-light, but it sent a spark of heat straight to his heart. His skin tingled. Gently, you applied a bit of pressure, encouraging him to lay back. He stared into your eyes and refused to look anywhere else as he readjusted his position, locks of blond hair shifting away from his brow as he reclined.
“That’s it, just like that. Perfect. Now, just relax, I brought some oils and salves for you. I’m going to take this bandage off now, okay?” You said, reaching for his wrapped hand. He nodded, and you slowly began unwinding the linens, peeling them away to reveal the most decayed part of his body; his right hand. Any skin left intact on it was shaded by a grayish hue, and the rest was just angry, red, open sores. You fought the urge to wince, not because it disgusted you, because it didn’t, but because you empathized with Baldwin, feeling the pain he must have felt in that moment. The bandages you removed were dotted with blood and other secretions from the angry wounds. 
You continued unraveling, all the way up his arm, and its condition gradually improved the further up you got. Then you moved to the other arm, repeating the same process. Soon, it was time to attend to the linens coiled around his torso, protecting the rash on his back. 
“Can you sit up for me, please?” 
He wordlessly obeyed, watching you work through his curtain of fine, golden hair. You scooted over until you were fully seated on the bed, face to face with him. He was suddenly glad for the bandage covering most of his cheeks and nose, so you didn’t detect the blush rapidly spreading across them. 
You reached around with your left arm and placed your cool palm against his shoulder blade to steady him as you pulled away the bandages. He sat as still as possible, not sure what to do with himself. His heart was about to beat out of his chest. Your hand was so soft, so slow…it was lulling him into a trance. He sighed deeply, letting the air roll all the way through his lungs. You deftly unweaved the bandage with your delicate fingers, working swiftly to avoid any discomfort that the pulling might cause him. Soon, all that remained was his face. 
Wordlessly, you slid a hand up the back of his neck and cradled his head in your palm, threading your fingers through his curls. He let his head fall back, confident that you would support him, and closed his eyes. A quiet rumble emanated from the back of his throat when he felt your fingertips brush his forehead. Then, you peeled off the last bandage, finally exposing the sensitive skin of his face to the cool evening air. 
Yes, his complexion was blemished and inflamed, as you expected. His nose was red and dry, some of the skin flaking off completely. His lips were in much the same condition. A smattering of pink blotches covered his handsome cheeks. But to you, nobody had ever looked closer to perfect. You grinned and cupped his face between your hands, gently circling your thumb over his cheek. His pretty blue eyes crinkled up at the corners as he smiled back, letting out a short laugh he never meant to let out. 
“You are such a beautiful boy, Baldwin. I love seeing your smile so much,” you said, tracing his bottom lip. That smile only grew as he closed his eyes in bliss. Your warmth was almost too much for him to handle. 
“I’m going to apply the salve now, okay?” you asked, gently laying his head down on his pillow and reaching for a bottle from your basket. 
“Mhmm,” he hummed contentedly. The smell of lavender and chamomile permeated the air as you scooped up a large blob of the salve and gently smeared it over his cheekbones. He sighed in relief as soon as it touched his parched skin, his pink lips parting. Soon, his face had absorbed most of the moisture, making him glisten in the candlelight like he was made of porcelain, and you moved onto his back, having him turn over. You ran your hands over the plains of his shoulder blades, massaging the tissue to help relieve any aches that may have built up. He groaned into the pillow in satisfaction. You smiled, continuing your ministrations. 
Needless to say, Baldwin had never experienced anything remotely similar to this before. The way you handled him and didn’t shy away from coming into direct contact with the most afflicted parts of his body made his stomach do flips. Maybe he could get used to this. 
‘I think I’m all done, my king. You can turn back over,” you said softly, putting the cork back in your bottle and stowing it away in the basket. Baldwin stretched leisurely and rolled over, hair partially obscuring his half-lidded eyes and crooked smile. He suddenly looked so young; only eighteen years old and he had already led an army. 
“Thank you, love,” he murmured, reaching out to grab your hand, bravely intertwining your fingers. He figured the damage had already been done, and there was no harm in a few more precious seconds of warmth. So he swiftly lifted your hand and pressed it to his delicate lips, almost burning your skin with the lingering passion in his touch. 
Now it was your turn to blush. 
457 notes · View notes
ventingv · 1 year
Note
What would it be like if Neuvillette and Zhongli came home after a long day out, only to find their mate ready to lay eggs? Woul mate feel the labor pains or would it be a simple posture? Or in the case of Neuvillette in some cave far from the civilization of Fontaine they use for posture and safety of the eggs?
(I'm sorry for being weird lmao 🥲)
Your not weird, don’t worry.
Made Neuvillette only leave for like ten minutes only to come back to chaos. Like that meme of that guy holding pizza boxes with a happy smile only to walk into a chaotic scene. Because I’m pretty sure he would absolutely not leave his pregnant mate/lover for a whole day while Zhongli would do so after being told to by his mate/lover. Much to his reluctance.
Zhongli
Zhongli really didn’t want to leave you alone at home when you were very close to laying the egg but there was an emergency at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor and Hu Tao desperately needed his help.
It was only due to your insistence that you will be fine that Zhongli reluctantly left your side to help her.
Now that he came back to the sight of you kneeling on the ground of the kitchen with a look of pain on your face holding your stomach makes him regret listening to you.
He would try to be completely rational as he picks you up and carries you to your shared bedroom.
In the bed room would be a large nest next to the bed made from different expensive and exotic clothes with some jewels decorating the outside of it that Zhongli had bought over the months of your pregnancy. Wanting to make the best nest for his made and child.
He would place you in the nest in a comfortable position and after making sure there weren’t any other discomfort you were experiencing would calling Xiao name who would react instantly to his name calling by Zhongli and with a look at you would instantly know why his name was called.
He would instruct him to get Madame Ping which he would do so as soon as he was told.
It’s only afterwards, when the egg is placed safely in your arms, that lets his shoulders untense themselves and release a relieved sigh.
If there are anymore children after this you can bet that he would not leave your side when near birth. No matter how much you beg him.
Neuvillette
When Neuvillette comes back home after getting the food item you were craving he would drop it in shock at the sight of you gripping the couch’s arm from where you sat tight enough to hear the wood under it threatening to break with the other hand on your stomach.
Furina panickingly asking/begging you to hold the eggs in also makes it obvious that you were currently in labor.
Early labor since there it was still three week from when you were supposed to give birth.
Seeing as the plans of having you give birth in a more secluded and safer place are out the window he would carry you to the bathroom after much worry of how to carry you without potentially causing you any pain or discomfort while practically ordering Furina to grab any and all soft clothes that she can grab.
He would place you in the large tube that the two of you would share sometimes and turn on the water to fill the tube, knowing that due to the eggs being hydro dragons it will be easier to lay them in water.
It’s only when the last egg is laid and confirmed to be healthy by him that he places it in the hastily makeshift nest of the clothing that Neuvillette places his forehead against yours and thanks you for being so strong while he was away.
You can bet he will be expanding his maternity leave for as long as possible, which Furina happily gives him after that traumatic situation for both him and her.
1K notes · View notes
vbecker10 · 2 months
Note
If you still do requests, I was wondering if you could write a fan fiction of Loki and Y\N where Y\N has Fibromyalgia and she's having a pain flare up? Would really make my day if you could!
Everything Hurts
Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N) - reader has Fibromyalgia
Summary: You have worked with the two Asgardian princes as their press coordinator since they both officially joined the Avengers. You enjoy the job greatly and love working with Thor but Loki tests your friendship and patience every single day. The God of Mischief alternates between being charming, sweet and flirtatious and being a sarcastic, pain in the butt who makes every meeting, email or interview request a battle. The day before an important event, you open up to Loki about your fibromyalgia and he offers to use his powers to alleviate your pain.
Background Info: Female reader has Fibromyalgia with the following symptoms - whole body fatigue, feeling drained of energy suddenly, inability to sleep deeply, feeling tired and worn out even after sleeping, tension headaches, muscle & joint pain (throbbing; aching; burning; shooting; stabbing; stiffness; soreness), muscle spasms, tender points at the tops of her shoulders and knees (light touch in these areas causes pain and discomfort), these symptoms worsen at night
Warnings: very brief mention of an ex-boyfriend who broke up with you because of your diagnosis, feeling like a burden, hiding your pain
A/N: Thank you so much for sending in this request! I did a bunch of research into this (mostly on Google) but please let me know if I messed anything up and I will fix it. I want to be as accurate as possible. I hope you all enjoy it! 💚
(sorry if this is bit of a long one, I wanted to cover a lot of stuff and I didn't really want to make it two parts) 💜
Tumblr media
Monday
"Thor, I assume you're taking Jane as your plus one to the charity gala Friday night, right?" you ask the older prince, looking up slowly from your computer screen. The stiffness in your neck makes the simple action increasingly more difficult each time you do it.
"Yes, of course," he answers with his signature smile.
"Awesome," you nod, feeling a twinge of pain at the base of your neck.
Your hand moves to the back of your neck and you begin to rub it gently, trying to alleviate some of the tightness in your muscles. When you look up at Loki, you notice his eyes are focused on you and for a brief moment you think you see concern in his expression.
Your eyes meet and his smirk emerges, "Would you like a massage, darling?"
"No," you tell him, putting your hand down quickly although a massage is probably exactly what your sore muscles need. "And stop calling me that, I told you it's unprofessional," you roll your eyes but are unable to hide the smile that always slips free when he calls you pet names.
"Very well, love," he responds and you bite back a sarcastic comment.
"Do you know who you're bringing, Loki?" you decide to change the subject back to the original point of your meeting with the brothers.
"I think we should attend the event together," the God of Mischief says with a wink.
You sigh and rub your temples, resting your elbows on your desk as you feel a tension headache emerging. "Loki, for once could you please just answer me seriously? I don't have all day for this," you easily make it seem as if the cause of your headache is the younger prince and not a symptom of your exhaustion. You had gotten almost seven hours of sleep last night but your fibromyalgia prevented you from falling into a deep sleep so you woke feeling worn out and drained this morning.
"What if I am being serious?" Loki asks, his tone still playful but his smirk has shifted into a more sincere smile.
"Brother, just tell Y/N you will be attending the charity gala alone," Thor thankfully steps in before you can even begin to consider Loki's suggestion. "As you always do," the older Asgardian makes a jab at his brother's lack of a date to any of the events you had organized for them to attend in the last three months.
You let out a short laugh but don't miss the angry glare Loki casts towards his brother. He looks at you again, "You can note that I will be attending with a plus one."
"Great," you say, forcing a smile. The thought of Loki taking someone suddenly makes you feel jealous but you don't want to think about why that is the emotion that surfaced first. Your tension headache suddenly becomes much worse and the stiffness in your neck spreads down your back. You need to finish this meeting as soon as possible so you can get the two Asgardians out of your office before you are unable to hide your worsening symptoms.
"Who's the unlucky lady?" Thor asks, laughing loudly at his own joke.
"Is her name necessary?" Loki asks you in response to Thor's question.
"Umm... no, I guess I can just leave that part blank for now," you answer. Your hand moves back to your neck again, trying to relieve the ache from your muscles feeling so tight.
Loki nods, folding his arms across his chest. "Please do that then," he says. "Unless you would like to change your mind?" he adds with a smirk.
Before you can reply to him you feel a sharp stab of pain in your abdomen and look down to hide when you wince. You take a slow breath but a second sharp stab of pain in the same location causes you to breath out harshly.
"Y/N?" Loki asks, his words pulling your attention back to him. This time there is no mistaking the look of concern on his face as he leans forward in his chair.
"Brother," Thor shakes his head, "It would seem you've upset Y/N with your suggestion, she looks as if it physically pains her."
"Would you for once just be quiet?" Loki looks over at Thor then turns to face you. "Are you alright?" he asks, ignoring the fact that his brother cannot see that your pain is clearly very real.
"I'm fine," you insist even though you know Loki will easily see through your lie. No one at SHIELD or Stark Industries knows about your fibromyalgia and you plan on keeping it that way for as long as you possibly can. You decide instead of trying to convince him you are okay, you will need to prove that you are busy. "I think we're done here. I've got everything I need," you tell the two brothers.
"Are you sure?" Loki asks.
You push yourself up from your chair which was not a good idea, you feel a sudden wave of exhaustion through your entire body but you fight to remain standing. Thor stands in response to your movement but Loki remains seated, not willing to leave until he knows why you are lying. "I have another meeting in ten minutes and I need to prep for it," you tell them. Loki finally stands slowly but you can feel his eyes watching you so you do your best to continue hiding your pain. Flashing your best 'I'm completely fine smile' you say, "I'll email you if I have any other questions."
"Thank you as always, Y/N," Thor nods and turns to leave.
Loki stays in front of his chair for a moment. You can see he is thinking but he lowers his head and turns to leave without a word.
Tumblr media
Tuesday
You skim through the dozen or so requests you have for interviews before you find the one you need just in time for Loki to knock on your office door. He steps inside, "I believe you summoned me."
You laugh, "You make it sound like you're a genie."
He smirks, "I will grant you three wishes if you-"
"No," you cut him off quickly, holding up your hand to silence him, "I'm not rubbing any part of you."
He chuckles as he sits across from you, "Darling, I had no idea you had such a dirty mind but I do like it. I was merely going to say, I will grant you your wishes, all you need to do is ask."
You blush, feeling both embarrassed and stupid, momentarily forgetting why you asked him to come see you.
"I'm glad to see you are feeling better today," Loki says genuinely.
You nod with a smile although you don't in fact feel better, you are just having an easier time hiding you pain today. You slept deeper last night so you feel more rested but the muscles in your lower back are throbbing. "Thanks, me too," you reply and he smiles warmly.
"What was it you needed from me?" he asks.
"Right," you nod and check your email. "Ah," you quickly find what you need, "I got an email from the Daily Bugle, they want to do an interview with you about-"
"I would rather not," he doesn't allow you to finish.
"Loki," you frown, "You really should do this. You haven't done a single one this month. Thor has already done two by himself and a third one with Jane."
"You know I dislike interviews," he reminds you although he doesn't need to. You are well aware of how much Loki values his privacy.
"I know but you need to," you plead with him for the hundredth time since you began working together. You shift in your chair, the throbbing in your lower back spreading higher and becoming more intense.
"Did they inform you about the type of questions they will ask?" he sighs, running his fingers through his hair.
"Yeah," you bite your lip knowing Loki is going to be annoyed, not with you but with the line of questions. "It's a personal interest story, so they wanna know more about you. Here, I'll ask you a few and see what you think?" He nods and you start with one of the first questions, "When you are not on a mission or training, how do you enjoy spending your free time?"
"I greatly enjoy aggravating Thor in my very limited spare time," he smirks.
"See, that's not a good answer. Everyone already knows you like to annoy your brother," you laugh and shake your head.
"I am also quite fond of spending time with my press coordinator," he adds with a softer smile.
"Spending time making my job more difficult," you correct him with an exaggerated sigh. "Okay, what's something you like about earth?"
"Not a single thing comes to mind," he laughs, seeming more comfortable. "Except for you of course."
You roll your eyes, "This will be the worst interview ever if I'm your answer to every question." He smiles but you sigh, knowing the last few questions in the email are the ones he will be most resistant to answering. "They also want to know more about your love life... you've never been seen out with anyone so they are asking-"
His smiles vanishes and he sits up straight in the chair, "No."
"Loki, you have to give them something," you tell him as the muscles in your back tense and tighten. "Even if you just say something like, 'I am not looking for a partner at the moment, I am focusing on my training and blah blah blah."
"I still do not see why it is any of the world's business what I chose to do or not do in my private life," he says, "Especially when it comes to my dating habits."
"Because you don't get to have a private life," you tell him honestly without trying to be harsh. "That's just how it works here, unfortunately. You need to understand, my whole job is to help your public image and make sure people feel like they can trust you. To do that, they have to know you at least a little. You're a prince and a god from a realm that up until a few months ago we all thought was a myth. All anyone knows is that you came here to take over our world before changing your mind and protecting us with your brother."
The tightness in your back loosens and you breath a small, hopefully unnoticeable sigh of relief. You remain perfectly still, fearful that if you stretch or twist your back the wrong way now, the muscles will tighten even worse than before. "I trust you Loki but they don't know you like I do."
His clenched jaw relaxes and he nods, understanding your point although you know he still dislikes this arrangement.
"Just give them a small look into your life, that's all I ask. I can go back to the Daily Bugle and see if they will take out the questions about your romantic life but I really need you to do this. I'm still trying to rebuild your image after... well you know what happened," you shrug.
He nods, knowing you are referring to the Battle of New York and his forced attempt to conquer the planet. You can see his resolve softening so you press him just a bit further, hoping he will finally cave. "Please," you give him your best smile and you see the corner of his lip turn up.
He sighs and shakes his head to chase away the smile that was forming. "I will do the interview but only if they remove any questions referring to my dating life," he agrees and you feel a sense of victory. He gets up, assuming the conversation is now over.
"I will," you assure him and stay seated. "You know it'll only make them more curious right? People want to know why someone like you is single-"
Before you can finish your thought, your back spasms and you groan in pain as the muscles twist and contract. The tightness forces you to lean forward, unable to sit up right until it passes. Your hands grip the edge of the desk and you look down, trying to take a deep, steady breath to relax your muscles.
"Y/N, what is wrong?" Loki asks, his voice thick with worry. He comes around your desk but is clearly unsure about what he should do to help you.
"Just a muscle spasm," you tell him, trying to make it sound less painful than it is. "I slept weird last night, it's not a big deal."
"Are you sure?" he asks, obviously unconvinced. "Can I do anything to help?"
"No, I'm fine. I just need to rest a little," you force a smile, moving to look up at him but the spasm keeps you from moving your back the way you need to. "What I really need is a new bed," you joke but neither of you laughs. "Really, I'm fine, I promise," you insist and he nods slowly.
"You would tell me if you weren't?" he asks in a serious tone.
"Yeah," you want to nod but think better of it.
"Please go see Dr. Palmer if this does not resolve itself," he encourages you. Before you argue that you are fine he adds, "I cannot have the only person in this realm I can stand to be around falling apart."
You laugh at Loki's favorite way to refer to you but the movement causes your spasm to worsen and the muscles to tighten further. You grimace, gripping the edge of the desk tighter and Loki's smile vanishes. "I'm okay," you tell him, "But I really need to just relax and the muscles will loosen up. I'll talk to you later, okay?"
He nods, sensing it is useless to continue discussing the matter and leaves your office.
Tumblr media
Wednesday
"Stupid childproof caps," you mumble angrily as you struggle to twist open the cap on your pain medication. The joints in your elbow ache deeply and the muscles in your forearms burn as you continue your fight with the small plastic bottle.
"Do you need help, darling?" Loki asks from behind you. You drop the pill bottle when he startles you, turning quickly to face him. He picks up the bottle as it rolls towards him.
"Yeah, do you mind? I can usually get it," you tell him. "It's just a pain killer for my headache," you lie easily knowing Loki is aware of how frequently you get tension headaches.
He nods, opening the bottle and moves closer to hand it back to you. You reach for the bottle but you feel a sharp stab of pain in your elbow when you extend your arm and pull back quickly. Before he can ask you add a second lie, "I slept on my arm last night. Still need a new mattress."
"I don't understand why you insist on lying to me," he says, placing the bottle in your hand and the cap on the counter.
You ignore his question, taking your pain medication and following it with a large gulp of water. "Do you have a name I can add to the RSVP yet? They emailed me back saying they would like to be able to have it for when you walk the red carpet," you ask him.
"No," he answers.
"Are you keeping her a secret for a reason?" you ask when he walks past you to the coffee maker. "Does she work here? Do I know her? Ooh... is she famous?" You ask lightheartedly but when Loki doesn't respond you have your answer. "You didn't ask anyone?"
"I simply haven't found the time to aquire a date," he confirms without turning to face you.
"Why not? There's gotta be hundreds of women in this city who would love to go with you," you say a bit too honestly.
He looks over his shoulder at you, "I asked one woman but she refused my invitation and I have not been in a hurry to be turned down again."
You look at him confused and then realize he means you. "Loki, you weren't serious about that," you tell him.
He turns completely to face you, "If you thought I was serious, would you have said yes?"
"I-" you freeze, unsure how to answer his question. You had only dated one person after you received your diagnosis and it was too complicated for him to deal with. You hadn't even considered dating anyone since. The prince takes your long silence as a no to his question and nods his head once before returning to making his coffee.
"Loki, it's not-" you try to find the words to explain your reasoning but he shrugs as if he doesn't want to hear it.
Without looking at you he says, "I hope your headache goes away." He picks up his coffee and leaves the kitchen, you make no attempt to stop him even though you want to.
Tumblr media
Thursday
You close your eyes and rest your head on the desk, feeling utterly drained of energy both emotionally and physically. Last night your back and neck ached so deeply there was nothing you could do to get comfortable. You had tried every possible position in your bed, then you moved to the couch and finally ended up falling asleep in an arm chair. One hour of uninterrupted sleep was nowhere near enough to get you through today.
"Y/N?" you hear a voice call for you faintly but you are so close to sleeping, you can't help but ignore it.
Loki's hand gently settles on your shoulder causing you to cry out in pain as a stabbing sensation quickly moves through your muscles. The prince has accidentally touched what your doctor calls a 'tender point'. You recoil from his well meaning touch, fully awake from the jolt of pain.
"I'm so sorry," he apologizes, backing away from you. "I didn't mean to hurt you. Are you okay?"
You sit up and attempt to tell Loki you are fine but the movement causes a wave of sharp pain through your lower back. Loki kneels next to you, putting his hand on the arm of the chair, clearly afraid to touch you again. "Y/N, please do not tell me you are fine," he urges gently. "What's wrong, darling? How can I help?"
You look at him, the concern on his face finally eats away at your determination to keep lying. "Everything hurts, Loki," you acknowledge the truth. "I'm having a fibromyalgia flare up. I'm in so much pain and I'm just too exhausted to fight through it anymore."
"I don't know what that is," he responds.
"Right," you mumble. The handful of family members and friends you had opened up to barely knew anything about your condition so it makes sense an Asgardian would never have heard of it.
"Talk to me, please," he says in a softer tone than you've ever heard him use. "I cannot help if I do not know what you need from me."
"There isn't a whole lot you can do," you tell him realistically. He frowns in response and you decide to tell him everything. You take a deep breath and begin, "Fibromyalgia is a disorder which basically means I have widespread musculoskeletal pain. There's this constant dull ache or throbbing, deep in my muscles and joints but that's easier to hide than the sharp, stabbing or burning feelings I sometimes get. You've seen the tension headaches and muscles spasms as well this week." Loki nods slowly but says nothing and you continue, "It also affects my ability to sleep and sometimes my mood or memory but lately they have been okay."
When you finish you give Loki a practiced smile but he doesn't smile in return. He reaches out to cup your cheek but pauses and pulls his hand away. "You can do that," you tell him, wanting to feel Loki comfort you. "I have something called 'tender points' on my shoulders and a few other places. They cause me pain when people touch them, even gently but my cheek is okay."
He places his hand softly on your cheek and looks into your eyes, "I am sorry you have this horrid disorder. I had no idea this is what you have been hiding all this time. You do not deserve to live in pain this way."
"Thanks," you say with a slight shrug.
"There is no cure for this condition?" Loki asks curiously.
You shake your head, "No, but I can manage my symptoms most of the time. I take medication for the pain and to help me sleep. I also go to physical therapy after work a few days a week but that's pretty much all I can do right now."
Loki nods his head as he thinks, his fingers falling gently from your cheek. "There may be something I can do," he offers and you smile, feeling the smallest glimmer of hope.
"Really?" you ask him.
"I do not want to see you suffer," he says.
"Cause I'm your favorite person on the planet, right?" you joke, hoping to get him to smile.
It works, he smiles but his response is not what you expected, "Of course you are, darling."
"Wait, seriously?" you can't help but ask.
"I don't understand your surprise," he chuckles. "I have told you that on numerous occasions."
"Well yeah... but I always thought you were joking or just... I didn't think you meant it. I figured it was just something you said," you tell him, still trying to wrap your mind around his answer.
"There are quite a few things I have told you that you never took seriously," he says and although he is still smiling, he sounds disappointed.
Before you can say anything in response, you feel a burning sensation in your lower back that moves up your spine to your shoulders. You twist uncomfortably in the chair and gasp in pain, reaching for Loki and he moves closer to take your hand. The instant his fingers close around your hand, the pain vanishes. You look down at both of your hands which are now surrounded by the bright green glow of his seidr.
"Is this helping?" he asks and you nod slowly, almost unable to believe what is happening.
"The pain is gone," you say with a small laugh. "How did you do that?"
"My magic can be used for a great many things," he tells you, "I can prevent you from feeling pain but this method is temporary, it will only work so long as I am touching you."
"I don't think I can thank you enough for this, even if its just for a little while," you tell him with a wide smile.
"I will review my spell books to search for a more permanent solution, darling," he promises.
"Again with calling me darling?" you ask without thinking.
"I can stop," his smile fades.
"No," to shake your head and squeeze his hand gently, regretting that you mentioned it. "I like it but it's a bit..." you bite your lip, trying to think of the right word. "Romantic?"
He chuckles, "Has anyone ever told you that you are not very good at picking up on hints?"
"No?" you say and look at him confused.
Loki gets up from where he had been kneeling on the floor next to your chair, his hand still holding yours. He waves his free hand towards the chair on the other side of your desk and it transforms into a black leather couch with a couple of soft, dark green pillows.
"This may be more comfortable than your desk chair," he says, motioning towards the couch and you agree. Loki sits on one end and you sit next to him, your knees barely touching. He lets go of your hand for a moment then places his arm around your shoulder carefully. His fingers glow green, alleviating your pain through the continued contact.
You can't help but lean towards Loki, shifting closerto eliminate any space between you. "Wait, what were you saying about me and hints?" you go back to his previous comment.
He sighs, "Y/N, I like you."
"I know, you said I was your favorite-" you stop talking as your sleep deprived brain finally seems to catch up to Loki. "You like me?"
He laughs, "You do need more sleep. I thought I had been too subtle last month but even Stark and the Captain have noticed I've become fond of you."
"I thought you were just flirting with me cause that was your personality," you admit.
"Oh," his tone loses some of its playfulness. "So you had noticed?"
"Well... yeah but like I said, I didn't think you were serious about any of it," you shrug and look down at your hands in your lap. "I can't imagine why you would flirt with me and mean it."
"Why wouldn't I be interested in you?" he asks, cupping your cheek gently as he lifts you head so you are looking at him. "You are beautiful, funny, clever and you always do what you think is best for me even when I make everything difficult for you."
You giggle and blush at his complements but your smile fades. "What are you thinking about?" he asks, noticing your attitude shift.
"I like you Loki," you tell him, surprising both of you with your honesty.
"You do not look happy about it though," he says.
"I want to be," you tell him but you can't force a smile.
"But you aren't?" he asks.
"I really do like you but this isn't a good idea. You'll regret being with me," you shake your head.
"How can you say that?" he asks, taking your hand.
"I started seeing someone about a year after I was diagnosed and he couldn't handle my symptoms," you explain. "There were days were my tender points were so sensitive that I couldn't bare for him to touch me. I rarely slept through the night so he didn't like sharing a bed with me. If I was too tired to go out with him or our friends, he would get upset or end up going without me," you continue to look down as you talk and the feelings resurface. "It was hard for him to deal when I was having a flare up. One day he just... I don't know, I guess he didn't feel like being weighed down by me so he broke up with me. I haven't thought about dating anyone since."
"I really love working with you, even when you annoy me on purpose," you look up and his lip curls into a small smile. "If we date, you'll end up having to help me on my really bad days or put up with my symptoms keeping me from doing things. I don't want you to resent me for being a burden."
Loki is quite for a moment then says, "If that was how he reacted to you when you needed him, he never deserved you." You look up at Loki and his fingers move slowly up and down your arm. "Your disorder is not a burden for your partner to 'put up with'. It is only a small part of what makes you who you are and, Y/N, you are extraordinary. You are so much stronger than I had ever realized but you do not need to suffer through this alone any longer. Whether you decide you to let me take you on a date or not, I want you to know I will help you with this in any way I can."
You smile at Loki, knowing the prince means every word. You lean towards him, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. Giggling nervously, you watch the smile spread across Loki's lips.
"I am not sure if that was a yes or no to my question but-" he says but before he can finish his thought, you press your lips to his and pull away quickly. Loki's fingers move to the back of your neck in an instant and he brings your lips back to his. He chuckles when you break the kiss, running his thumb gently across your lower lip, "I will take that as a yes."
You smile, "Yes, I would love to go on a date with you."
"How about tomorrow?" he asks hopefully.
You nod then shake your head quickly, "No tomorrow is the charity gala. You have to go to that, I spent so much time putting together the press information-"
Loki kisses you, silencing your worries and when he pulls away again he smiles. "How many times must I ask you to go to the charity gala with me?" he asks.
Tumblr media
Friday
"How are you feeling?" Loki asks as you wait to get out of the town car.
"Honestly?" you ask, smoothing out the fabric on your long purple gown.
Loki holds your hand as you walk together towards the beginning of the long red carpet. "You look exquisite, darling," Loki whispers to you. You blush and giggle in response then reach up and kiss his cheek. Numerous cameras flash and dozens of reporters become louder, trying to get both of you to stop for questions.
"No, lie to me," he chuckles and rolls his eyes.
You shake your head and laugh but answer him truthfully, "Your magic is still working perfectly. I'm not in any pain at all. I feel amazing Loki."
You can barely believe the words coming out of your mouth. Loki had stayed up almost all of last night digging through piles of spell books until he finally found what he needed. He enchanted a small pendant with his magic and so long as you wore it, your pain was gone. Your fingers trace the small silver butterfly you wear on a thin chain around your neck and you smile at Loki.
He kisses the top of your head, "I need you to tell me if your symptoms come back. I never want you to hide this from me again."
"I will tell you," you promise just as the door opens.
"Loki! Loki! Over here!" The reporters yell over each other for Loki's attention as the cameras continue to flash brightly all around you. "Who is your date tonight? Loki!"
Half way down the red carpet, Loki pauses in front of the swarm of reporters. The prince kisses the back of your hand then let's go, placing his hand on your waist to pull you closer to him.
"This absolutely stunning woman is Y/N Y/L/N," he introduces you and you look up at him ignoring the cameras. "She is my talented, patient and brilliant press coordinator," he pauses, his eyes still on yours and says, "And she is my girlfriend."
Your heart beats faster and you giggle excitedly, you had no idea Loki was going to declare you his girlfriend in front of the press but you couldn't be happier. He leans down and kisses your lips, the camera flashes intensify. He takes your hand again and leads you away from the reporters and into the gala entrance.
"I'm going to have a thousand emails and calls about this," you laugh as you hear the press call for you and Loki to come back.
"That is a problem for Monday," he says. "This weekend you are mine."
Tumblr media
I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!
@soubi001 @mochie85 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @animnerd @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @mischief2sarawr @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @goblingirlsarah @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @kneelingformyloki @jiyascepter @eleniblue @loreniscrying @muddyorbsblr @alyeskathewave @loz-3 @firedrakegirl @javagirl328 @princess-asgard @morally-grey-variant @soulpiercing @km-ffluv @glitterylokislut @biodegradable-glitter-fest @wolfsmom1 @simone818283 @hopefuldreamers-world @blackhawkfanatic @slut4tonystark @dracoswhorexx @sunglasses-in-the-bentley @anukulee @latriacy @trojanaurora @babygirl-panda19 @catsladen @stargazer-luna @rcailleachcola @lunarlopt @gruftiela @bolontiku @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @lokischambermaid @clemthecustestmonster @lovinglokilaufeyson
304 notes · View notes
signanothername · 17 days
Note
do you think dream might also have some sort of chronic pain? nightmares legs are like obviously really messed up from corruption, but like being in stone for more than 400 (or 500 I kinda forgot how long he was in stone for) years has gotta do something to your joints or bones. Probably maybe not something as painful as what nightmare goes through, but I’d expect it to be painful or discomforting nonetheless
ACTUALLY YESSSSS ANON I DO THINK DREAM IS IN CHRONIC PAIN TOO!!!
And they’re definitely joints, definitely suffers from some sorta arthritis, being frozen in place for so long can be debilitating, and allow me to say that I love to think Dream also wasn’t just able to move around like he just wasn’t frozen for 500 years when he got free
Like I absolutely love to think he barely could move at all when he first got out of his prison, he definitely was in so much pain too, and absolutely struggled to move his limbs, like I wholeheartedly believe he just lay there without moving for a while (all while his mind was on overdrive as his memories got back to him as to what the hell happened)
And well, that pain as well as stiffness, especially in his joints just stuck with him, he now also struggles a lot of the time with moving too much or working, and sometimes the pain can amp up to the point he just can’t move at all, literally would cry from the pain, he’d force himself to stay as still as possible as to not irritate his pain even more
And unlike Nightmare, who’s pain is mostly just his back and legs, Dream’s pain is in every and each joint in his body, from every vertebrae in his spine, to every finger joint in his hands
Now take that and include Dream’s archery in the mix :)
One of the biggest things about archery is that you have to have strong flexible joints to be able to use a bow without any problems, not to mention, using it excessively can cause joint stiffness/pain, so I think it’d be easy to imagine how hellish using a bow is for Dream
But Dream had to learn how to use it effectively with his disability if he wanted to survive, the reason Dream picks up archery specifically is both cause it holds sentimental value to him as he used to play archery with Nightmare, and cause he knows he needs a long range weapon when Nightmare got his tentacles, he can’t be too careless and be at close proximity to his brother when he’s trying to kill him
So even tho there’s so much in his way, Dream managed to learn how to use a bow effectively all the same
It doesn’t mean he never faces any problems when fighting with his bow, Dream has great aim, but even then he’d sometimes miss his target just cause of the pain/stiffness he has, and sometimes it irritates his joints so much that he’s just unable to keep fighting and so he just retreats
I like to think Dream never even knew how to make his pain better at all, he never knew how to treat it, so for the longest time he just lived with it, until he met Swap, and well, he finally understood that he doesn’t need to just live with it and that there are methods to treat the pain, so now he wears braces under his clothes most the time, especially his wrists, arms and knees, he sometimes uses heat/cold therapy and he’s definitely on pain medications on a daily basis
Damn this boi needs a break
Tumblr media
148 notes · View notes
erinfern0 · 8 months
Text
contrasts of intimacy.
Tumblr media
simon "ghost" riley x inexperienced!afab!gn!reader
— gender-neutral nicknames, afab anatomy, only pronouns used are you, etc.
summary: you're not very experienced, but you want to try something new, changing things in the bedroom feels like a good idea. All those fantasies of yours, Simon turning rougher, turn you on more and more until he finally agrees.
warnings: inexperienced reader, talk of safe words, use of safe word, manhandling, slight spanking, discomfort, possible sub drop, etc.
a/n: based on this lovely request! I've been away for a while, but I'm so glad to be back here with you, guys!!
Tumblr media
Convincing him was difficult, not only were you a little embarrassed to ask for such a lewd thing, but also — he's such a stubborn man. The idea itself was tempting, Simon got so hard just listening to you explaining what you wanted. Shifting his hips on the couch, adjusting his sweats as he just nodded his head.
Pure torture and such a betrayal of your innocent, inexperienced nature to ask for something like this. Not that it was wrong or immoral, as Simon made it clear that he's more than happy to try new things with you. But God did he adore to watch you squirm in your seat, trying to get some coherent sentences out.
His mind was slowly coming back to his senses when you mentioned that you'd like him to do anything seemingly painful, like pulling your hair or spanking you. He just couldn't imagine himself doing something like that to you, immediately thinking about actually hurting you.
You thought he's going to deny you, turning your offer down and never thinking about this again, but he surprised you, holding your hands in his and slowly rubbing your palms with his thumbs.
“We'll have a safe word.” he assured, a smug smirk on his face before he looked up at you. “You'll let me know when's too much, yeah?” his hand slowly rubbed your thigh as he waited for your answer.
“Of course!” you said happily with a stutter, almost falling into his embrace as you tried to hug him. Simon's muscular arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you on his lap, your cunt pleasingly pressing against his crotch. “We can just go with the traffic lights.”
Simon started prepping kisses to your lips the way he always used to, sweetly and slowly before he sped up, easing his hot tongue into your mouth, devouring every little gasp that left your throat.
The contrast of his harsh, sloppy kisses and his hands groping all over your body make you dizzy, mindlessly reaching down to untie the little knot of his sweatpants. Your other hand pulls his hair, grazing your nails over his scalp.
He groaned, pulling on your lower lip while pulling you closer, his hot breath mixing with yours as you ease your way under his pants and boxers, wrapping your fingers around his twitching cock.
You were not really experienced, but Simon made sure to teach you exactly how to make him feel good, so that's exactly what you did. Slow strokes down his shaft, combined with your thumb teasingly rubbing on his slit, made him grow harder in your hold.
Your actions caused his usually soft touches to turn into him sinking his fingers into your hips, guiding you to rub yourself over his clothed thigh and bulge. His kisses followed a path down your neck right before he flipped you, laying your body on the couch, your back and neck pressed into soft pillows.
“Take 'em off.” he demanded, looking down at your shorts before he suckled another hickey into your shoulder. The dark rasp of his voice, hoarse with desire, made your stomach turn in arousal.
You obeyed, pulling your shorts and panties down your legs to throw them on the floor, looking up at him to meet his dark eyes, looking completely black in the light of your living room.
You felt like prey, just waiting to be hunted down and devoured, but that's exactly what you asked from him. That's exactly what you wanted, needed, even.
Simon pushed your legs apart, pulling them closer to your chest so he could watch the way your glistening pussy kept clenching around nothing. His eyelids felt heavy as he played with your folds, pulling them apart just to chuckle at your little squirms and pants.
“This really gets my angel wet, huh?” he asked more to himself as he kept your legs up with one hand. The other left a gentle spank to your pussy, watching your legs shake from the stimulation with a choked-back moan of his name.
He always loved your sounds, not only your voice but also the way your skin rubbed against his, how your hair nuzzled into the bedsheets, and how your juices squealed under his fingers.
But the thing that kept him going the most was the way you kept chanting his name as your nails dug into his forearms. Your soft pleas for him to finally fuck you and not just make sweet love as usual.
“Si, please, please…” you mewled, watching as he pulled his sweats down, his cock pressing right between your folds. Simon slammed his tip over your clit, quiet curses slipped off his tongue as your thighs twitched.
He complied, gently pushing his cockhead into you, working you open to stretch around in such a familiar, breathtaking manner he had to grip the underside of your thighs. Pushing you down just to feel you all over him, your gasps making goosebumps appear all over his back, just where your nails tried to reach.
His fingers deepened their hold on your skin, probably leaving bruises, making you shiver in such a pleasurable sting of his nails making their way through the thin layer of your plush skin.
“Desperate thing.” he groaned, his leaking tip finally reaching your cervix, so deep you felt as if it was pushing right against your brain, making you all dizzy and hazed with pleasure.
Everything was just as you imagined, starting with deep, slow thrusts, pushing all the nice spots that made you see stars, but then Simon quickened his moves. His hands kept your thighs up, knees as close to your chest as possible as he rammed in and out of your slick, clenching hole.
You two lost yourself completely in the feeling of each other's bodies, so different from your usual sex. You've turned into a shaking, panting mess under his form, towering above you, fucking you with such force the whole couch shuddered under you.
As much as you loved it, loved him, your perfect little fantasy became too much. It was perfect until you couldn't breathe as clearly as before. Legs pressed against your chest too much for you to appreciate his filthy words or the mess between your bodies, noises of both pleasure and slick spread around the room.
The pain in your thighs became unmissable, and even when he asked, you tried to stay strong. You were the one to ask him for this, you didn't want him to feel bad for possibly hurting you, just as bad as you didn't want him to stop. So you kept your cool, tears pooling on your eyes that were closed shut, and moans turned more performative than ever.
Simon couldn't miss the changes, though. The way you clenched around his cock made it harder for him to slip back in every time he pulled out. Your grip on his forearms has become harder, leaving marks all over his skin as he slowed his moves again.
“Look at me, love. I need you to look at me.” he murmured under his breath, hand pulling away from your thigh to cup your chin, thumb caressing your dry lips, bringing your attention to him. ”You're okay?”
You shivered, both palms now resting against the couch, too tired to touch him again. You swallowed harshly, nodding your head almost mindlessly, thighs already shivering from how exhausted you got after just a couple of minutes. They hurt, a strange sting running all over your legs caused by being held up for too long,
Breathing deeply, you allowed him to slowly pull out, his palms running calming shapes over your skin, waiting for you to gather your thoughts. His thumb caressed your face, letting you focus on his touch rather than the pain.
Tears started running down your cheeks despite your desperate attempts to stop them. Sobbing underneath him, you closed your eyes, trying to cover your face with your hands, but Simon pulled them away with quiet 'shhs' spilled off his tongue.
“Just say it, it's okay.” he mumbled, the dark browns of his eyes locked on yours, his gaze softening. His hair was messy, slightly over his forehead as he leaned forward, waiting for you.
“Red.” you gasped out, embarrassment filling your voice as you shivered. He kissed your knee right before he helped you relax your legs, placing them flat on the couch for you.
“That's it, sweet thing. Just rest for me, yeah?” he cooed as he stood up, collecting your clothes off the floor and slowly slipping your underwear on your body. Your body melted perfectly the way he wanted, allowing him to pull his bigger shirt over your head, covering you with an addition of a blanket.
Simon kneeled beside the sofa, his fingers pushing stray hairs away from your face. “Too much?” he questioned, nuzzling his nose into your shoulder.
Nodding your head, you smiled weakly, words of an apology coming out of your mouth before you even thought about them. He just looked at you, his jaw clenching. “Nothing to be sorry about. You were so perfect, sweetie. Stopping when you don't feel good anymore shouldn't make you apologize, ever.”
Slowly, you accepted his hand reaching under the blanket to interlock your fingers with his, the reassurance you needed was right there. Sleep tried to take over your body as he hummed into your exposed neck, leaving gentle kisses on the fading marks he had left there before.
“I'll get us something to eat and some tea when you wake up, don't worry about anything.” he added before he sat on the couch right beside your head, pulling it over his sweatpants-covered lap, massaging your scalp just the way you loved the most, letting you rest.
Tumblr media
masterlist | request info
357 notes · View notes