#it's kinda like poking a bruise and feeling the ache

[samayla]

Not me over here, speed-running all the stages of grief because I made eggs on toast like my dad's, only I tried frying the eggs in chili crisp this morning, and they're Amazing, and they're better than his, and he would Love them, but he's not around anymore, so I can't cook them for him, or call him to tell him about it, and no one else in my family loves breakfast quite like he did, so no one else will be as excited about these stupid, stupid eggs as he would...

[ghoulphile]

run rabbit run | c.h/the ghoul

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 869 ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; rough, mildly dubious consent (kinda?), dom!coop, bareback, cum play, degradation kink, biting, pet names (bunny), man-handling, doggystyle, drabble, coop's gotta fuck you full so the ferals can't smell you ➥ summary | "the drabble thing HNNNGH think about coop calling you bunny from the start bc he clocked that you were always a down for it and you not getting it until he after you fuck for the first time" ➥ notes | do not look @ me rn 🫣 i feel like i've exposed myself too much lol masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated ❤️

He found the rabbit among endless dunes of rock and rubble; a frightened, jumpy little beast that required a firm hand to tame, and an even steadier one to control.

And while it would’ve been easier to dump ‘em at Super Duper Mart -- get his caps worth, pounds of flesh for vials of chem -- he took a shine. Now, what exactly it is about you that captured his attention so thoroughly, he can’t be sure (though he could hazard a few guesses).

What he does know is this: if it wasn’t for him, you’d have been killed a million times over by raiders, fiends, and ferals alike. Always finding your way into trouble as soon as his back is turned.

Like now.

So if he’s a little rough with you, it’s only because he had to haul ass half-way across the flooded district when he heard you scream.

Nevermind the hard lurch of his heart, the sensation of his stomach droppin’ to his feet. You were supposed to be safe, holed up in the building he cleared yesterday.

Surprise, surprise; you decided to go poking where you shouldn’t, and now he’s gotta rescue your dumb ass. Skidded around a bombed out building only to find you fighting off a small pack of ferals, their rotted hands scratching at your arms and their teeth gnashing at your face.

Goddamn it.

Same shit, different day.

“What did I fuckin’ say?” he snarls, chapped lips pressed tight against your ear as sharp hip bones rut into the softness of your ass. “You’re dumber than shit sometimes.”

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t - hhahh, slow down - didn’t mean to cause trouble.” Your hands scramble for purchase, nail beds aching from how hard you’re digging at the dirt.

Shoved onto the ground, pants sagging around your thighs as a stray rock digs into your cheek, scraping up the tender skin. “Won’t do it again, I promise.”

The Ghoul snorts, delivers a stinging nip to the tip of your ear. Your reedy whine soothes some of the agitation but he’s still bristling, aggression threaded through with tendrils of panic he refuses to acknowledge.

“I highly doubt that.”

You hiccup, knees spreading wide as your back dips - trying to get away, to get closer.

The fat head of his cock keeps hitting your cervix with every stroke, little fissions of pain kissed pleasure racketing up your spine as he stretches you past your limits and fucks you open.

Your gummy walls swollen and raw from the constant friction of his shaft, the rad burns scraping your insides up. Clit aching and so wet you’re dripping, a damp patch of earth beneath you.

“No, promise I’ll be good!” You pant, the scent of sunbaked soil and stagnant water heavy in your nose. “Please, please, please.”

Everything aches, limbs sore from your tussle and pride bruised as sweat dapples your brow, sticks the fine baby hairs to the back of your neck.

A hand clamps down on your hip so hard bones grind, yanking you back into every punishing thrust. Heavy balls smack against your clit on the in-stroke, stoking the embers of your desire. Your toes curl in your boots.

“I’ll believe it when I see it, bunny.” The Ghoul grabs your elbow with his free hand, tugging you up into his chest so his chin hooks over your shoulder, breath puffing along the side of your cheek. “You just don’ know when ta learn. So I’m gonna have’ta teach you. An’ I’ll do it as many times as it takes, you hear?”

You sniffle, nuzzling the back of your head against his face. “I mean it,” you say. “I’m sorry… I didn’t know there’d be any ferals around. Was just trying to find some more food.”

Groaning, his hips kick forward in a softer grind, still so deep you feel him in your stomach - pussy filled to the brim with cock - but not as harsh as before. As close as you’ll get to an apology until he’s done.

“This is your fault - you got ‘em all riled. Now, we gotta make you smell like me so take your punishment like a good bunny 'fore I decide ta eat you instead.”

And you do, letting him rut into you until he’s satisfied, aching and so swollen by the end of it that he has to bully his way in with every thrust, your pussy clamping down and milking him for all he’s worth.

When he finally does pump you full, you’re dumb and dripping. Limp limbed and sagging into the ground - only held up by the cage of his arms. Thighs shaking and clit pulsing in time with your heartbeat as he wrings every last bit of pleasure out of you.

“Sometimes,” he says, sitting back on his heels to watch as his cum oozes out of you in a sticky rush, dripping down your folds, “I think dumb bunnies like you are only good fer one thing.”

You whine when his thumb whispers over your clit, caressing your folds as he gathers up his spend. Gently fucks it back into you with shallow thrusts of his fingers. 

“But that’s all right, I like ‘em a lil dumb.”

[myfictionaldreams]

Today's Lesson: Don't Catch Feelings // James Potter x Fem!Reader

PART 1 (Dry Hump) // PART 3

Summary: It was meant to be a one-time moment. A friend helping another friend who'd never been kissed before. So now, when your best friend finally gets the girl he's wanted to impress, why are you filled with such jealousy.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, jealousy, friends w/benefits, can be interpreted as cheating but there's no official relationship, kinda love triangle, sex education, fingering, mutual pining, arguing, regret, kissing, drinking, fake orgasm (w/ other m character), dry humping, voyeurism, loss of virginity (James), praise kink, creampie, riding, cliff hanger! -- sorry if I've forgotten any tags

Words: 6.4k

Tags list: @bellathethirstybitch, @kenqkii, @ghostlycrystobalove, @anehkael, @1-800-ididurmum, @imdoingbetternow ~ Y'all asked to be tagged in the comments. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write a part 2! Thanks for your support.

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

"Move your thumb to the right. Yes, that's it! Right there - fuck James, don't stop! Yes! Yes! Oh-!" Even with the silencing charm around the room, you were sure the entirety of Hogwarts could hear you cumming hard around James' fingers curling inside your cunt as his thumb - now in the right place - circled your throbbing clit.

The tips of your fingers ached with how firmly you were digging them into his muscularly toned shoulders, probably bruising him, but he never commented on this. The messy-haired man just continued to listen to your instructions, putting more enthusiasm into these moments than in any lesson here at Hogwarts.

Even as your walls clenched tightly around his digits, he didn't stop. However, you were now quietened as he sloppily made out with you, swallowing your cries of euphoria until there was nothing left to give, and your moans turned into a laugh.

James groaned as you pulled away from his swollen lips, gently tugging on his wrist to ease his fingers out of you. "Woah there, Tiger, that was plenty good enough. Any more and I'll probably collapse", laughing as he pouted with his lower lip, his hazel eyes half-lidded and pupils blown in a clear display of arousal.

"So it was good?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, not moving his face away from hovering over yours.

"It was more than good, Potter. You're very good at listening to instructions, and your skills are improving with each orgasm, that's for sure", you praise whilst pushing his glasses up his nose as he smirks handsomely in response. James turned to kiss the tip of your fingers as you couldn't help but giggle once more at the action, your feet hooking around the backs of his knees as you tried to pull him closer to the edge of the desk.

But, like everything perfect in your life, you became your own worst enemy as you couldn't help as the words slipped out, "You'll have Lily orgasming before her underwear's off". It was meant to be a joke, but it only reminded you why you were even in this situation.

The smile faltered for a split second on James' face as he dipped his head to look at the floor, his hair now curtaining your view of him. "That's the plan", he chuckles as he begins to casually suck on his still-soaked fingers as your jaw drops at the sight.

"James!" you exclaim as he returns his gaze to you. His look of innocence for the act only added to the desiring pulse in your core.

"What? Sirius said that there's nothing more tasty than a pretty girl. Seems he was right", he casually remarked with a shrug of his shoulders. All air seemed to rush from your lungs at the compliment that quickened your heart's beat and warmed your cheeks' skin.

You were once more captivated by his eyes as he inched closer, and the hardness still contained in his trousers poked your inner thigh. "Need some help?" you asked curiously, teasingly, reaching between your bodies to palm him.

James' eyes lowered to focus on your lips as he licked his own, wetting them, and all you wanted to do was taste him, but then he took a step back, your legs and hand stopping away from his warmth.

"Nah, I'll sort it later, don't worry", he explains whilst beginning to smooth the uncontrollable mop of black hair on his head.

A heavy sinking feeling settled in your chest as you realised you'd probably overstepped the thin line between what the two of you had been doing for the last couple of weeks.

James Potter, your best friend, had been since the first year at Hogwarts. Both were thick as thieves and when he'd previously admitted to never having kissed someone before and had finally convinced his long-time crush to date, he needed the practice as the fear of Lily turning him away for any bad kissing skills. As the good friend that you were, you offered to teach him how to kiss, which promptly ended with you both dry-humping to orgasms.

After, James had been on his date and returned, particularly thanking you on his knees as his kiss with Lily had been everything he had ever wanted. However, after this, it was like a drug you both couldn't get enough of. One lesson turned into another and another. How to touch a girl with and without clothes, t the right way to touch and kiss breasts, and now how to use his fingers.

Nothing penetrative yet, and it had all been about teaching him about pleasing girls, so you'd yet to touch him because that would mean you were both hooking up for satisfaction rather than education.

You were unsure where the lines were becoming blurred in your heart and mind. James had always just been your goofy best friend. Mr Popular at Hogwarts would go above and beyond to make you laugh or protect those he cares for, and he continued to be like this for you. However, the rooms felt too small when you were both in them. You spent way too much time fantasising about the feel of his hands or the taste of his lips that you'd yet to look at any other man since that first kiss in the Shrieking Shack.

Then, there came the added complication of Lily. Lily was also a close friend, and even though James and her were not officially boyfriend or girlfriend yet, the way he pined for her and the more dates they went on, the more you were filled with dread. It felt as if you were betraying her with your want for James. Even with the lessons, you knew if ever caught; it was almost impossible to explain that it was all for Lily's benefit in a fucked up sort of way.

You were essentially teaching the man you were falling in love with how to pleasure your friend for their future. All the while, you were becoming more emotionally involved than you'd ever meant to be. I mean, you had casually slept with numerous people during the last year at Hogwarts; sex and feelings were two things you were able to separate.

So now, you were unsure what had changed for you to fall for the man who was so evidently in love with someone else.

"Are you coming?"

His deep voice drew you out of your spiralling thoughts as you blinked at him in confusion. "Coming?"

"Yeah, to class?" he asked, picking up his bag and pulling the strap over his shoulder.

"Oh, yes, I just need a minute. You go without me anyway; we haven't got the same class next", you say whilst standing and trying not to wince at the dampness between your legs that had spread your thighs.

"You sure? I don't mind walking you", James ensured as he pulled on the tight area of his trousers around his crotch, but then gave up and covered his erection with his bag.

"I'm sure we're on opposite ends of Hogwarts anyway. I'll catch you later, Potter", you confirm whilst straightening your tie and shirt.

"Alright then, Sweetheart, catch you later".

With one more beautiful grin', he's off. Then you're by yourself and left to slump back onto the desk and rethink your life. However, you couldn't dwell on it as the clock tower bell began to ring, indicating the start of lessons. As you cursed to yourself, picking up your wand from your bag and waving it over your body, your clothes instantly corrected yourself, and the wet mess between your legs vanished.

You were utterly breathless by the time you'd arrived at potions, and it took a great deal of effort to ignore the lingering ache in your pussy as you attempted to sneak into the room.

"Ah, at last. Welcome miss! Please take a seat; we haven't started without you, dear," Professor Slughorn declared as he held his hand out toward your usual classroom seat as everyone stared at you.

Trying to ignore everyone's eyes, you rush to your seat beside Lily, that heavy, unwelcomed feeling returned to your stomach as she smiles at you, leaning close to whisper, "I told him you were in the bathroom, so he said he'd wait for you before starting the lesson".

You return her smile, however forced as you thanked her and turned your gaze back to the professor. Before long, Lily's sweet perfume drifted into your senses as she leaned in closer once more to ask, "Who's the lucky guy?"

A sharp pain shot through your neck with the speed with which you looked at her, "I don't know what you mean; I was actually using the bathroom".

She tilts her head to the side with an all-knowing look. "Mmm hmm, sure, sure. So why is your lipstick smudged then, huh?"

Your fingers quickly moved to the corner of your lips, frantically wiping away any residual lipstick when it dawned on you that you'd not put any make-up on this morning and had fallen for her trick.

Glaring at her, Lily gave you a brilliant smile whilst moving some of her luscious red hair behind her shoulder, declaring, "I can read you like a book; don't forget that".

Rolling your eyes, you playfully nudge your shoulder against hers, deciding to ignore the previous question. For some reason, unbeknown to yourself, you couldn't help but ask, "So how's it going with Potter?"

Internally, you were criticising yourself for even asking and showing interest in it, already knowing that the answer was something you honestly didn't wish to know.

Lily's grin softened until her lips pursed, and she began to write down the instructions from Professor Slughorn in the book on her desk. "It's going ok; I mean, he's definitely more of a gentleman than I thought he was ever capable of. I also think the exams are getting to him a little; he seems distracted at the moment".

This piqued your interest as you began arranging your ingredients before you, chopping whatever was closest to you without the slightest attention as you asked, "What do you mean?"

"Well, we were on head boy and girl duty two nights ago, and he always used to joke that he wanted a quiet corner away with me in a classroom or something, but now that you know, I'm more open to that. He seems distracted. He still holds my hands and gives me compliments and a kiss or two that makes me want more, but by the end of the duty, he will either find his friends or go to bed".

You swallow thickly, asking, "Oh really? So you guys haven't - I mean, you haven't done anything other than kissing?"

Lily's cheek blossomed with colour as she continued her prep for the potion before her. "No, not yet; I mean, I want to; he's a great kiss, but nothing so far. It still feels strange not to be cursing at him to get out of my sight, like I never pictured myself to be in this position, and maybe it's also taking him some time to get used to".

You were only half listening to what your friend was saying as your thoughts screamed at the fact he was only a good kisser because he'd practised with you. Also, the tiny part of you that was cheering her heart out at the fact that you were the only girl he'd touched intimately, for now.

"Psst. Oi! Goldie! Pea! Turn around. I know you can hear me", came the annoying whisper as you and Lily both glanced over your shoulders to Sirius, who was leaning across his desk, grinning from ear to ear, his shoulder-length hair tied at the nape of his neck.

You huffed, glaring at Sirius as you reminded him, "I've told you a thousand times not to call me that!"

The Marauder sarcastically sticks out his bottom lip, "But it's an endearing name, Pea!"

"No, it's not! It's bullying!" you remind him, turning further towards where he and Remus sat, the latter politely declining the conversation to continue with his work.

"It's not my fault you vomited peas in second year", Sirius pointed out with a cocky smirk.

Thankfully, Lily cut off your retort as she snapped, "Stop reminding her of that. I've told you that my hair is red and not gold!"

"Meh, semantics", he shrugs and appears eager again. "What are you both doing after this? We were thinking of getting a group of us together and heading down to Hogsmeade. Do you both wanna join? I'm sure James would want you there".

That nauseous sensation returned as you knew he wasn't referring to you as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively towards Lily. One part of you desperately begged not to go, not wishing to see Lily and James acting all lovey-dovey in public, and another part of you knew it would look suspicious if you weren't to attend. Who else were you expected to hang out with on a Friday evening other than your best friend, James?

Lily answered for you as she wrapped an arm around your shoulders, "Of course, we'll both be there, but not to hang out with you; we don't need boys to have a good time".

You smile at her, forgetting all of your woes for a moment, watching as she adds a sprig of Rosemary into your potion and watching it change from the awful shade of red to a soft caramel colour to match hers.

"What would I do without you?" you say with admiration.

"I don't know, crash and burn?" she jokes, pulling a genuine smile from yourself.

Later in the evening, the two of you were true to Lily's word as you made your way there, joined with Marlene, and, not wanting to go with the boys, gave yourself some time to dress in something other than school clothes, opting for jeans and a warm jumper.

The three of you wandered through Hogsmeade, stopping in Honeydukes for a sweet treat before deciding to rest in the Three Broomsticks; however, you found what seemed to be the rest of your school year in the same place. There was hardly a free seat as the three of you pushed through the crowd to the bar.

"Evans! Over here!" James' voice shouted above the noise of everyone else from the corner of the room. Lily giggled as she waved over at him, and you tried not to wince with jealousy as you pushed her and Marlene in his direction.

"Go over there, I'll get the drinks". Thankfully, they didn't need much convincing before making their way over to the other Gryffindor. "Three butterbeers, please. Oh, and a large fire whiskey as well", you say, slipping the barmaid Rosmerta an extra galleon so she wouldn't question your age. You were old enough to drink, but there was a swift ban on students at Hogwarts being sold alcohol, but an extra galleon here and there, and no questions were asked.

As you waited for your drinks to be poured, you observed your surroundings and noticed a certain Ravenclaw watching you over the rim of his glass, a smirk flirting on his lips. You smiled back, holding his eye contact briefly before looking away from Quirinus. He was in Ravenclaw and relatively bright, if not a bit of a nervous nelly if he didn't have any alcohol in his system, which, by the looks of things, he was a few drinks deep and clearly in a flirtatious mood.

You were ready to make bad decisions when a hand on your lower back snapped your attention. The touch burned through your clothes to your skin as James appeared by your side. His face lowered so that he whispered into your ear as he questioned, "Is it bad that I can still smell you on my fingers?"

You swallow harshly, fighting to keep your face neutral as you couldn't help but quip back, "I'm sure your girlfriend would love to hear you say that".

James leans away to study your face, a frown adorning his expression, "She's not my girlfriend".

"Yeah, sure", you retort, turning away from him to nod at Rosmerta as she placed the drinks in front of you at the bar.

"Well, if she were my girlfriend, my fingers definitely wouldn't be smelling of you now, would they?"

The fire of jealousy that was being stoked in your heart was only being fueled further by his words. "I'm sure she could teach you a thing or two, Potter. You don't need me to taint your fingers".

"Maybe I do", he quickly responds but then corrects himself, "I mean, I don't think she has much experience. Anyway, you didn't mind it earlier when you were begging for more".

You turn to him with a glare that had him relaxing his stance as he realised he was on the threshold of overstepping. "Don't be so sure of yourself, James, and with the lack of experience you both have, wouldn't it be better for you both to be inexperienced together?"

Picking up the fire whiskey, you began to take heaving glugs of it, savouring the painful burn as it slipped down your throat. James eyed the drink as he leaned closer once more, his body half crowding around yours as he harshly whispered, "Where the fuck is this all coming from? I thought you were ok with what we were doing. It's nothing serious, just one single friend teaching another single friend, right?"

Yes, you answer in your thoughts, having not taken the fire whiskey away from your mouth, but then he's grabbing the glass and trying to take it away from you as he demands, "Hey, slow down, alright? You'll be pissed with the hour".

Giving him a shove with your shoulder, you spitefully say, "You aren't my boyfriend, Potter; stop telling me what to do. I want to drink, so get lost".

The concern in his hazel eyes drops as he looks at the two butterbeer, asking, "Are these McKenna and Evans? I'll take them and leave you to calm down".

"Thank fucking Merlin", you exclaimed with one final glare before he stormed off with the two drinks in hand.

You blew a long breath through your mouth, trying to ignore the overwhelming urge to scream, cry, or storm out. However, a brush of an arm against yours stole your attention as Quirinus now stood next to you at the bar, his Ravenclaw-coloured jumper vibrant in the candlelight.

"Fancy another firewhiskey?" he asked, and you nodded, not trusting yourself to be able to talk without crying.

The drinks came at a steady pace, and before long, you were feeling the effects, the anxiety that had hit you like the Hogwarts Express train from your argument with James had fizzled into anger. It only made matters worse when you would glance over the Ravenclaw's shoulder to see James wrapped his arm around Lily's shoulder, the two of them whispering to one another without a care.

A lump formed in your throat as the world tilted for a second. Quirinus noticed your glare as he, too, looked over his shoulder and assumed you'd prefer to sit with your friends as he offhandedly mentioned, "If you'd rather go and sit with them, I wouldn't be offended, you know".

"What?" you say, snapping out of your staring contest as you realise James is now staring right back at you with just as deep a frown behind his glasses. Giving your attention back to the man at your side, you quickly grabbed his arm, not wishing to be left alone, "Sorry, Quirrel, I really do want to stay with you. In fact, why don't we find somewhere a bit more quiet?"

The alcohol was definitely speaking on your behalf as his eyes lit up, his teeth nipping at his lower lip as he stood to his full height. "Ye-Yeah, I want to do that", he stammers enthusiastically as you grab his arm and head towards the back of the pub and climb the stairs, ensuring no one is following.

Sneaking past the bathrooms, you ascended even further into the depths of the pub until you found a spare living room with a sofa in front of the fire as you claimed, "This will do perfectly".

Turning around and before you could ponder any further on the man you really wished was here and deciding you needed to have some fun of your own, you grabbed the collar of Quirrel jumper and pulled him in for an eager kiss. However, the door barges open as you both spring apart.

You release a nervous laugh as you see no one is there, quickly rushing over to it and shutting the door, locking it properly with a wave of your wand. "Oops, must not have locked it".

Turning back towards Quirrel, he eagerly eyed you up and down. Not giving yourself time to regret the decision, you ran over to him, your arms moving around his neck as you pulled him into a quick snog. It was sloppy and distracting as he kissed you back with just as much eagerness.

It seemed Quirrell wasn't in the mood to wait as he soon fumbled with the button to your jeans. You silently have to give him some credit if he was going straight to the good without even touching your tits or kissing your neck. You wanted a distraction, and the fingers slipping into your underwear were definitely a distraction.

Especially as he began to vigorously rub your left labia rather than your clit. Attempting to shift your hips in your favour, he kept his fingers in the same dry spot, assuming your hip movements were a sign that he was doing a good job.

Great, you thought. Your love life was now just as dry and useless as your friend's life. Just fantastic.

Deciding there was still some hope left, your fingers moved into your jeans, your hand cupping the back of his fingers and moving them to finally circle your clit. However, the dryness and eagerness that he was moving made you feel overstimulated and ready for it to be over as fake moans began to spill from your lips.

"Fuck, you're so pretty", Quirinus moaned against your lips as he suddenly pulled back, but only so he could turn you on the spot and lean you awkwardly against the back of the sofa. Two things then started. One, his fingers shifted again back to the poor labia and away from your clit and two, he began to hump into your arse like a dog in heat.

Your eyes closed as you continued to fake the moans as his lips found the side of your neck as he nuzzled into you and continued with his pleasurable humps. You knew you could push him aside at any time, but for now, he was distracting you, even if you weren't finding any pleasure in it.

"Fuck you're so wet. Do you like that?" he asked, biting your neck like a vampire as you refrained from rolling your eyes.

Instead, you faked your seductive voice as you moaned, "Mmm yes, feels so good", even though you were pretty sure the wetness he was feeling was just sweat, as there was no way you were wet for this guy.

Matching the eagerness of his moans, you pretended to be close to orgasm just as his thrusts increased in speed, and your thighs began to ache as he pushed you harder and harder into the back of the sofa.

"Fuck!!" he cursed loudly into your ear as he came, and you two pretended to also orgasm, breathing heavily whilst bending over slightly to put some room between the two of you. As his fingers removed from your underwear, he proclaimed, "That was so good, wow. Hey, do you want to go on a date or something-".

His abrupt stop in the sentence has you turning with a questioning gaze but stopping short, seeing his face turn a pasty shade of green.

"Are you ok- Shit!" you quickly move out of his way as his hand covers his mouth, eyes bulge in panic, and he runs towards the door, wordlessly waving his wand and dashing out of the door with the promise of going to vomit.

You're unsure whether to be worried for his well-being and sudden turn or offended that he had suddenly become so unwell. Either way, you were well and truly finished with the day. Buttoning up your jeans, you began to move towards the open door and back down to the loud mass of students downstairs, but the door slamming in your face and audibly locking had you halting.

"What the fuck?" you question under your breath, rushing towards the door and twisting the handle, but it was thoroughly locked. "Alohamora" with a wave of your wand, you'd expected the door to unlock, but even this didn't work as panic slowly began to set in as you started to wonder if this was some trap in the room for people who sneak in. "Shit! Please open, please, please, please!" you repeat with more urgency as you continue to try and spell the door open, but then a low behind you in the empty room has you screaming and turning until your back is pressed against the door.

"He didn't make you cum”, James stated with venom laced in his words as he revealed himself from underneath his invisibility cloak.

"James?! What the fuck- have you been there the entire time?!" you hissed in rage, your body becoming hot all over as realisation dawned on you.

"Why did you fake an orgasm with him?" he asked, repeating the same subject as before as he stepped closer to you from where he was leaning against the desk at the opposite end of the room.

"You can't just follow me around, James! That's so fucking creepy, and wait - did you hex Quirrell? Is that why he was sick?"

"He fucking deserved it for not making you cum”, he declares as his body trembles with the restrained anger flowing through his veins, the vein in his throat bulging as he takes a step towards you.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you begin to pace in front of the fire, rubbing your hands over your face as you go through about every emotion humanly possible. "I don't understand you whatsoever! Who are you to judge who and how I spend my time? You never cared before, so why now?" Turning to face him, you see the anger that seems to have disappeared from his body as he slowly steps towards you, his eyes unblinking as they bore into yours, full of rich emotion that you were too frightened to name.

You felt breathless as he stepped into your personal space. The fire crackled to your side and illuminated half of his handsome face, reflecting off the glasses already beginning to slide down his nose as he peered down at you, and you had to clench your fist to stop yourself from pushing them back up again.

James was still wearing his school uniform, you noticed, giving yourself the slightest distraction from the anger and confusion pulsing through your body.

Your mouth suddenly felt dry as you asked quietly, "How did you know I was faking it?"

James breathed in through his nose as his eyes scoured your face. "There were a few obvious signs". You became utterly captivated with every word he had to say as he lifted his fingers, gently held your chin, and began to tilt your face further up to his as he lowered his own so there was only a breath width between the tips of your noses.

"One, you always hold your breath just as you're tipping over the edge. Two, your eyes were open; you usually close them as you become lost in the moment", he numbered off whilst gently kissing the corner of your lips and like every other time recently, your body reacted instantly to the touches, pulsing and begging for more but then he listed the final sign. You truly became wholly lost to James Potter. "And third, the reason I know you didn't orgasm was because you weren't saying my name".

A soft moan escaped your parted lips as he had you hypnotised and, blaming it once more entirely on the alcohol, closed the gap between both of your mouths.

The kiss was everything you could have ever wanted for a first romantic kiss with someone you had a crush on. However, it meant so much more. Barriers were being broken, friendships snapped for potentially a lifetime, and yet it was what you needed—more than the air in your lungs, than the heat blazing from the fire. You needed James, and he evidently needed you.

The gentle and tentative touch of your lips lasted for a single breath, and then all restraint keeping you back was released as both of you gripped each other fiercely. Your fingers wove through his soft hair, pulling him down firmly as his arms wrapped around your waist, tugging you until both of your chests were pushed together.

Where you'd once been overheating with rage, now you were ablaze with lust. The clothes were too tight and claustrophobic against your skin as you needed to touch his. Thankfully James had the same idea, as both of your faces tilted, the kiss deepening with longing strokes of tongues and swapping of saliva, just like you'd taught him those weeks ago, his hands began to move beneath your clothes frantically.

Before long, your jumper was carelessly dropped to the floor, the same with his tie and shirt. Your fingers explored his toned chest and stomach, enjoying the little hitches of breath that he moaned. However, it was your turn as he moved your bra straps off your shoulders as his nimble fingers unhooked the band at the back with a simple flick, another trick you had taught him last week.

Before you could compliment him, his lips were trailing down your neck, sucking and licking on the sensitive areas until you were mewling with need. However, he didn't stop lowering his face until his lips were wrapped around your nipple, pulling the sensitive bud into his mouth and pressing the flat of his tongue against it.

"James!" you keened, rising to the tips of your toes to press your chest harder into his face, and he loved it from the deep groan he released, his fingers flexing on your lower back.

The Marauder moved from one breast to the next, teasing and nibbling until you were a desperate mess. Gripping onto his hair, you tugged on it, forcing his face away from your tits so that you could go back to kissing him deeply whilst also pulling on his shoulders towards the direction of the sofa.

Catching onto the direction he was being pulled in, James took over the lead as he sat down and pulled you into his lap, where you straddled his thighs. You couldn't help but contemplate how the position mirrored the one that started this entire situation, except now you weren't teaching. He was more leading and dominating the situation.

The hand on your lower back pressed more pressure until your crotch was flush against his. It felt somewhat wrong to have your chests both naked and pressed together, but the rest was still covered with jeans and trousers. However, it didn't stop the moans from escaping either of you as his hands moved your hips so you were grinding on his cock.

"Sweetheart, I need these off. Right fucking now before I combust", James pleaded as he undid the button of your jeans.

"You two then, Potter, off!". Once more, the clothes were off of your body within the blink of an eye until you were both only in underwear. Returning to finding your pussy against his cock, now you could genuinely find some real pleasure as the fabric of your underwear and the shape of his erection pressed against your clit, causing your insides to clench with the need to be filled.

James began to chuckle as his lips wandered down your throat, causing you to sit back and ask, "What's so funny?"

Moving his face closer to yours, he confidently stated, "I can feel how wet you are, even through my boxers". The two of you looked down to see a wet patch had formed over the grey material of his underwear where you'd been rubbing yourself as you realised you'd soaked through your lace material. The smile soon drained from your face as you both looked at one another.

"I need you", you dared to whisper as your hands moved from his shoulders to cup his cheeks, skimming the edge of the metal frames of his glasses.

The Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he repeated the words with just as much passion, "I need you too".

It was almost like an out-of-body experience, your lust and arousal dictating your movements as you both held eye contact as you raised on your knees, pulling aside your underwear as James pushed the waistband of his underwear down to the mid-thigh.

Nothing separated the two of you now, and you could have cried as you positioned the head of his cock at your entrance. His arms moved around your body, hugging you close as he rested his forehead against yours.

"Oh Sweetheart, you feel - holy shit - you feel so good", James gasped as you lowered yourself to his length.

You were shaking with the overwhelming sensations pouring through your body, making just as pleading praises to the man currently stretching your cunt. For once, it wasn't about teaching him anything but just following instincts and responding to each other's bodies. You both took a second to adjust to the new sensations and then you couldn't wait another moment before rolling your hips, easing your body up and down.

The room echoed with the fire crackling and the sound of your drenched cunt being filled with James' cock over and over as he began to find more confidence, meeting your hips midway with his own thrust.

"Yes! Just like that!" you praise, tipping your head back and allowing him to move with his vigour as he fucked into you desperately.

"I- I feel like we're made for each other", he grunts as he looks down at where your bodies meet.

"Me too! James, please don't stop!" You could feel it, that tightening in your core that gave you such pleasure. You felt as if it was too much as it continued to build in the moment, as all you could do was cling to the man beneath you.

"That's it, Sweetheart, I want you to cum for me, say my name and cum”, he demanded as he fucked you as hard as he could, holding onto your shoulder to keep you in position. All air escaped your lungs as your eyes closed, and the tightness in your pleasure exploded in a flurry of clenches as you squeezed his cock through your orgasm, screaming his name like it was the only thing that mattered.

Through your overwhelming pleasure, you were half aware of the shivers and grunts coming from James as he couldn't contain himself any further and came with his shaft buried entirely within you. The thick seed spilt into you, mixing with your own juices and pooling into his lap as it began to slip out as his cock softened.

Heavy breaths and the stink of sex suffocated the small room as you both clung to the tendrils of hope that had bloomed from giving in to temptation.

But like most things, the happiness had to end as his grip loosened on you and the reality of the situation dawned on the both of you.

No more kisses were shared, no more longing looks as you clambered off of his lap, and the two of you began to dress, ignoring the fact that both of your underwear were now coated in bodily fluids.

Just as you pulled your jumper above your head and turned towards the door, James' hand circled yours. "Please don't shut me out, you're my best friend, I can't lose you". You don't say anything, and the emotions that had been threatening to spill all day finally surfaced as tears lined your eyes and your nose became stuffy. James looked devastated by your reaction as he stepped closer, his hands cupping either side of your face. "Did I hurt you? Please tell me you don't regret this".

"I should regret this", you begin to explain, letting the tears slip free, but James' thumb was there to swipe them all away. "But I don't, never with you. The only thing I regret is that this was your first time in this shitty little room and-. And your virginity wasn't meant for me".

James frowns at your words as he kisses your temple for a long second, "I'm pretty sure it's my virginity, and I can do whatever the fuck I want with it and give it to whoever I like. Also, side note, speaking about my virginity like this makes me sound like some virgin sacrifice".

You laugh tearily, leaning into his touch for a moment before stepping out of his grip and moving towards the door, turning the handle but finding it still locked. You couldn't turn around to face him, knowing it would break you to see the sadness in his eyes.

"Please don't go", James pleaded.

"Let me go, James", you whispered, meaning the sentence in more ways than one.

"I can't, Sweetheart", he admits, sounding almost broken.

"You have to. I don't want to be your bit on the side".

"You aren't my bit on the side; I mean, I can't do that to Lily; that's why I haven't asked her to be my girlfriend yet because of what we were doing".

Your heart sank at his words even though you knew he wasn't necessarily saying it to be cruel. "You can't do that to Lily, but you could do that to me? Please, James, please just let me go".

You were greeted with pure silence, and just as you're about to turn around and ask again, the door unlocks, and you're out the door in less than a second, rushing down the staircase and away from what you'd done but not before you're out of earshot as James screams the word "Fuck!" like a broken man.

[josephquinnswhore]

Hey! I know you just posted it and i'm not even sure if you take requests but could you write a part 2 to Vanilla, please? About the morning after, where her entire body is really hurting but she doesn't want to say anything as to not make him feel worse

Bittersweet

Pairing: Joel Miller X fem! Reader

Summary: Joel finds out you’re hiding how much pain you’re in post-rough sex and does something sweet to make it up to you.

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warning: bruises, insecurity.

Note: anyway kinda went haywire I wanted a really happy ending LOL. Hope you love it!!

When you wake the sun is beaming through the window weakly, the winter clouds preventing you from feeling it’s full warmth. The winter coolness of a morning was harsh, your toes feeling stiff from the lack of warmth as they poke out of the blankets. When you roll over to face Joel, you find yourself retracting your fingers that meet the coldness of his side of the bet, groaning when you realise he isn’t there. It was a rare occasion that both of you had the morning off-you knew Joel wasn’t on rotation for patrol until tomorrow morning. Perhaps he decided to pick up extra shifts, maybe he just wanted an excuse to be away from you after what happened last night. You cringe at the thought as you find the will to pull yourself out of bed, your whole body aching from every place you could think of as you wobble unsteadily to the bathroom. It takes you a steady minute to undress yourself of Joel’s shirt he put on you last night, your joints resisting the movement. When you see yourself in the mirror you frown, there are visible angry red long marks left by the rope that had bound your arms, your hips had bruises forming in the shape of Joel’s fingers, you don’t forget the ache in your lower back where the springs from the old mattress had dug in, turning your head and twisting your back so you could see; you’re met with a green and yellow bruise forming and you wince when you see it.

You turn on the knobs for the shower, turning the hot more than the cold so you could try and emerge yourself in the heat. The cold air was brutal on your bare body. You jump when there’s a knock on the door, “honey?” You clear your throat of any lumps forming at the sound of his voice, “yeah?” There was shuffling on the other side of the door, “can I come in?” You put your hand in the water, deciding the temperature was good before stepping in, sighing heavily when the hot water runs down your body, providing some relief to the pain you’re in. “Uh, I just wanna shower by myself, if that’s okay.” You mumble nervously, not wanting Joel to see the state of your body. There’s a moment of silence before you hear his footsteps descend down the stairs. A sigh leaves your lips, unaware you were even holding your breath as you waiting for him to leave. The guilt that crept up the back of your neck for denying him felt disgusting, you had never said no to Joel joining you in the shower, you were afraid of Joel seeing your body in this state, you were ashamed of it. You were embarrassed, you had never used your safe word before, you felt nothing short of a disappointment for using it. The guilt crawled up you when you remember the way Joel panicked, you never wanted to disappoint him like that; there was no lack of choices in terms of women for Joel to chose from, if you couldn’t please him why would he keep you around, the thought was hard to swallow and lodged in the middle of your throat causing you to sob. You let the water run over you as your body looses control, trembling under the water of the thought of Joel finding someone else; it’s not like he couldn’t either. He was charming, loyal, protective, passionate. He was a catch, in that moment you decided to act like it was completely fine; all of it, you couldn’t let him know you weren’t okay after last night.

You finally find the nerve to shut off the shower, gently splashing your face in an effort to rid your face of the redness from crying. You turn the knobs and shut the water off. The cold clinging to your wet body with a chill that had your body covered in goosebumps. You pull the towel around yourself, which provided little in terms of warmth for your body. I guess in some way it provided some protection, covering most of the hurt parts of your body. Your body had a slight tremble from the winter air as you walk into your shared room, to find Joel sitting on the bed with his head hung low, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands running through his hair in an anxiety fuelled panic. “Joel?” His head shot up as you stood there, too far for his own liking, you kept a distance from him that he didn’t like. “Honey. What’s going on with you?” Joel stands from the bed and you try not to recoil away from him, not in fear, but embarrassment, you don’t want him to see your body battered, in a way that makes you look weak. His hands on your arms snapped you out of your dissociation, his eyes turning hard and changing colour as he inspected the red marks that litter your skin on your arms, from his doing. “Does this hurt?” You shake your head in a lie, which is immediately exposed when Joel grips your arm gently to which you wince, your face scrunching in pain as it contorts. “Is there more?” You nod yes, he eyes you with a look you can’t recognise, you don’t do anything to intervene as his warm hands find the top of your towel and unfolds it, it falls from your body and pools around your ankles. You clamp your eyes shut, not wanting to see his reaction when he sees the bruises, your body ache in full swing as he inspects your body, poking and prodding causing you to tense up each time. Your arms find themselves crossing over your breasts, trying to find some security in your bareness that had you feeling ashamed.

Joel’s hand caresses your face, thumb rubbing circles on your cheek. “Look at me honey.” You obey and look him in the eyes, trying to read him as he observes you. “Why didn’t you tell me that I hurt you this bad?” The vulnerability in Joel’s voice had your knees buckling, he sits you on the bed, taking off his flannel and pulling it over you. “Didn’t want you to worry bout me. I felt disgusting seeing these marks on my body. Felt weak and thought you’d just find someone else if you thought I was weak.” Your voice is a whisper as you speak, words echoing through the room and piercing through Joel’s heart like a wooden steak, splintering with every word that leaves your mouth. “Didn’t want me to worry bout you? Baby are you outta your mind. Course I worry about you, especially when I did this to you.” He exhaled loudly, trying to keep his emotions steady and regulate his emotions, just as you had taught him. “I don’t think you look disgusting, I could never think you’re weak. Remember those four men that raided our camp as we slept, you took em all out baby, think that’s when I realised I fell in love with you.” You look at Joel at his admittance, a softness on his face you had only seen a handful of times. You lean into his shoulder, “I couldn’t let anything happen to you or Ellie.” Joel leans into your touch, welcoming your warmth. “That’s just one thing that drew me to you, you’re smart, calculating, nurturing, compassionate, strong, patient, loving.” Your eyes become glossy with tears, Joel had never been this open with you before, you were enamoured by his openness and vulnerability. “You taught me to open up, to forgive myself and to be vulnerable, all things I thought were bullshit before, things that made a man weak, but now it makes me a better man, for you. Not for anyone else honey,” he turns to you and his long arms slink around your waist, his brown orbs watch you lovingly, “never want anyone else baby, you’re mine till I die.” His nose nudges your cheek as he kisses the corner of your lips. You giggle at him as he watches you intensely, “what if I die first?” Joel shakes his head, dismissing the thought. “Ain’t gonna happen.” You raise an eyebrow. “It might.” Joel scoffs, “not if I can help it, couldn’t live without you.”

Your fingers trace his patchy salt and pepper beard, kissing the heart shaped patch of skin where the hair refused to grow. “Couldn’t live without you either Joel.” He grunts, “don’t say that. Ellie would need you, you’re like her mother.” Your cheeks flush red and they grow hot at Joel’s admission. You playfully hit his arm, “alright mister, no more talk of that, have you had breakfast?” He laughs, the sound is like your very own source of dopamine. “Made you breakfast while you were showerin, come on down and we’ll eat together.” You took his hand as he helped you up, his flannel on your body was extremely overdose, covering your legs mid thigh. “Oh hey, you finally decide to join me. I’m starving here waiting for you old people.” Ellie jokes as she sits at the small wooden dining table. Joel pulls out your chair for you and you sit down. “Thank you.” Your cheeks are still red at the act of kindness. “God you’re like a tomato did you guys have a quickie upstairs or something?” You and Joel both laugh, “how do you even know what that is?” Joel questions and Ellies cheeks are burning red on her pale skin, “I just know stuff.” You mock scoff, “so it’s got nothing to do with hanging out with that nice girl, Dina is it?” Ellies brown orbs widen in shock and she stuttered. “Alright, alright let’s just eat.” You stifle a look and you look at Joel as you start to eat the fresh fruit on your plate. “We look like a real nice family don’t we?” You nod in agreement, humming as you chew on a strawberry, the sweetness an indication of its perfect ripeness. “Yeah we do, don’t we?” You reply with a smile on your face as you look at your family lovingly. You couldn’t help but feel pride for the man Joel had become, and the young lady Ellie was becoming as a result of your guidance. Your family.

[billlydear]

Hi! This is kinda a heavy topic so feel free to skip if you’re not comfortable! Could you possibly do a writing of how Billy would react to his usually stoic and strong s/o going though something really upsetting and crying to him? I recently lost a loved one so I could use some comfort :( and Billy looks like he gives good hugs.

ROLE REVERSAL - BILLY HARGROVE X READER

W.C 1035 - REQUEST - MASTERLIST - CREDIT TO GIF OWNER

i'm so sorry for your loss, i hope that this is able to help, and if there's anything else i can do to cheer you up, please let me know <3

It's not typical for you to show up at Billy's door crying. Usually it's the other way around, tears gathering in his bruised eyes threatening to slip down his stinging cheeks, waiting in the safety of his saddened gaze until he's in the sanctuary that your embrace has to offer.

He's so familiar with this routine, get hit, fall down, get up, go home, cry, that when it's reversed, when his home comes to him crying, his stomach twists with an uncomfortable feeling.

He meets you on the doorstep, though not because he's afraid of Neil seeing you. The couple is out for the weekend, and Max was supposed to be asleep hours ago, though Billy has a sneaking suspicion she's still up.

It was no trick of the light, there are tears on your cheeks. Something prickles in his chest, hot, angry, sharp, but you butt your head against his front and his heart steps forwards to block it from hurting you. Instead you meet the soft material of his fleece jacket, something that he'll never admit to sleeping in in front of his friends.

"Y/N," He wraps his arms around you by instinct, and you cling to him, so he knows he made the right choice. Your chest is convulsing with sobs he doesn't know the cause of, and every second that he sits there and lets you suffer makes his teeth clench.

"Angel," He keeps his voice low and sweet for the amount of anger brewing inside of him, tilting your chin up with his fingers hooked beneath it, "What happened? Who did this to you?"

Billy sees tears on your cheeks and wants to fight. He knows fighting means crying, and if he can fight back for once in his life, then you won't cry anymore. But you shake your head vehemently, face smearing against his chest and leaving dark tearstains where your eyes rest.

"Talk to me," He pleads, and he probably sounds more brash than he wants to. He's just desperate, he can't fix things if he doesn't know what's wrong.

The second you're able to breathe long enough to stammer out that he can't fight death, his entire body stiffens. He feels it from his head to his toes, the aching realization that he can't fix this. You're going to cry, you're going to hurt, you're going to suffer, and he can't stop it, he can't fix it.

Your sobs are loud and they gush from you in waterfalls, so it's no surprise when Max pokes her head out of the front door, a nervous frown on her face. He knew she wasn't sleeping.

"Y/N?" She starts, but Billy shakes his head.

"Not now," He mumbles, tilting his head back inside, "Go get her a jacket from my closet. And- and brew some of your mom's tea shit!"

When Max follows his directions, only willingly because they're for you, he turns back to you.

"Let's go inside," He prompts you, hunching down to catch beneath your bum, lifting you up slightly to haul you over the threshold. On a typical day, he'd give your ass a cheeky squeeze, but he doesn't think it would be very considerate now.

You seem content to stay buried in his chest the entire walk to the couch, however awkward the shuffle is. When he finally gets onto the couch you're on top of him already, his back sinking against the cushions while you dig your knees into his hips. He keeps you as close as possible, rubbing up and down your back the way you do when he comes through your window at night.

He tries parroting the sweet nothings that you whisper into his ear during those late-night tear-filled meetups, and the more he croons to you, the more natural his words become.

'You're safe,' and 'You can cry,' turn into, 'I'm sorry, angel.' and 'Breathe, baby'. One that stays the same is, 'It'll get better,' and he takes solace in the fact that you won't be sad forever. He knows you need to be sad now, though, so he clenches his teeth and accepts that he can't fix this.

When Max comes back with his hoodie and your mug of tea you thank her tearily, but Billy knows you don't want to sob around her, so he sends her back to bed. He does it politely, though, because he knows she's evading sleep to care about you, not to get on his nerves.

"Careful," Billy murmurs, watching your hands shake as they grip your tea. He cups his large hand underneath the mug to hold it steady, and a gulp of the steamy liquid sends a shiver down your spine. He scratches it away, smoothing hair away from your face where it's been stuck there with tears.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" He tries, careful not to prod where you don't want to be pushed. You blink quickly, teary eyes focused on his chest rather than his face, and he lets you avoid eye contact.

"No," You breathe, scrunching your eyes shut when fresh tears bud at their borders, "No, I just- I just want to.. sit. And cry."

"Okay," He nods, his curls bouncing around his head, freshly washed and formed, "Okay angel. Crying is.. good."

He echoes your vehement sentiments that he hears when he lets himself break down, your encouragements to get it out of his system when it tries escaping instead of holding it prisoner. Because if you don't cry now, you'll just cry more later.

"Yeah," You sniffle, nodding, and though it doesn't make you smile, the familiarity of the words BIlly reassures you with is comforting, "Yeah, crying is good."

"One more sip," He murmurs, tipping the mug back up to your mouth. You gulp down another mouthful, then he sets it on the table.

"Okay, angel." He rubs his hands against your back once more, tucking his chin down so that his cheek meets the crown of your head, "Let it out." He turns to kiss your head, tucking his nose against it and speaking into your scalp as he tugs you closer to him, "Cry, baby, I've got you."

[overwatchfics]

can you do Shimadas taking care of their sick s/o? 🥺

A/N: Reformatted this so it fit your request lmao sorry this is late, but hope you're feeling better homie!

Hanzo

He feels like such a mother hen, he takes care of you like no other

I headcannon that Hanzo brews a mad cup of tea, he'll put every ounce of effort in brewing the best cup for you

He won't get too close to you at first, but if you're ABSOLUTELY miserable he'll hold your hand and rub soothing patterns into your back and arms

He'll begrudgingly do his goofy fisherman's dance if you really need something to cheer you up

Or he'll tell you the good memories of his childhood growing up in Shimada castle, of how he'd seen Genji sneaking treats to Kiriko in their youth.

Ok enough, he doesn't care if he gets sick anymore, Hanzo doesn't like seeing you in any discomfort, so he'll get under the blankets with you and hold you.

He'll prepare some hot soup with crackers on the side.

If you have long hair he'll loosely braid it and card his fingers through it.

Headache? He'll lightly massage your scalp to get you to relax.

Even if you look like shit he'll still call you beautiful

I feel like he has a fondness for novellas or TV dramas and he'll quietly murmur under his breath Oh no she did not

He'll put these dramas on tv for you two to watch and honestly watching Hanzo's reaction is more entertaining than the show itself

He'll grab a cool wash clothes and wipe the sweat from your face and keep you clean.

If you have to go to the doctors, he'll hold your hand through the process

Both Shimadas have a massive fear of the doctor's office and you can't convince me otherwise

Genji

He can't catch any illnesses so cuddles?

Having a cyborg ninja boyfriend comes with its perks and one of them being he can control his body temperature.

Hot fever? That's alright he's got his cooling system on

Too cold? And blankets make you sweat too much. Butt warming technology activated (Like in those leather seats in cars)

Aside from this he panics if you have a nasty illness and he goes to Angela on how to best take care of you

Since its winter he'll get you involved in some silly arts and crafts, and you can bet he makes you a cut out of paper snowflakes

Can't really cook, so he'll order some take out (Mostly soup)

Genji has tried to cook a few times (the few times he has, it was so bad even Moira said it was unethical)

I feel Genji would also have a small gaming set up and he'd play a single player game with story so you could enjoy the story with him

I'm getting carried away with random Genji hcs lemme get back on track

He would buy you two matching fuzzy pajamas and socks so you could suffer in comfort with him looking a little goofy in his pjs

Not the best brewer but he can make a decent cup just for you

As much as he hated cough medicine himself, he'll make sure you'll take it

GENJI WOULD BE THE TYPE TO GO "Here comes the airplane prrrrrrrrrrrrrb!" and poke at your lips with the spoon until you relent

Kiriko

Kiriko would just pocket you. End of story.

Lmao no I wouldn't do that to you

Her Ofuda is primarily used to heal fresh wounds and usually trauma injuries (Bullets wounds, tears, slices, bruising, etc) not illnesses

When you fall ill, she could care less about getting sick since the fox spirit kinda protects her from trivial stuff like that.

Kiriko cuddles are on the table, she'll curl up with you on the couch and if you'd like she'll give you shoulder rubs (Spoiler: They're fucking amazing)

She would take you to the bathroom and wash and dry your hair while softly humming or singing a light tune

she'd blow dry the hair and massage the scalp to release any pent up stress and the vapor from the hot water would help the illness

Kiriko asks her mom for some soup recipes. A good ol family recipe is good for the soul

She totally has an apron that says "Kiss the Kamori"

She tries to heal with the ofuda to help ease any aching or pain you're in

She hates seeing you so miserable and does what she can to put a smile on your face

Even if that means telling embarrassing stories of Hanzo and Genji that they'd rather you not know about

Or blowing raspberries lmfao she doesn't care if you're sick, she's blowing them on your neck or stomach regardless. It really just ends up into cuddling

Once she quiets down, she'll just pull you into her arms and ask if you're alright.

[painsandconfusion]

Something's Not Right

Whumping the Whumper - Part Thirty-six

(tw: internal bleeding, death threat, illness, long term captivity, concussion, bruises, gun, murder mention, nonsexual nudity)

[Previous | Masterpost | Next] [Chronologically following this scene]

Four years ago...

“E-Ethan? Ethan wake up..-”

Ethan stirred at the light poke to his thigh. He groaned, stretching against the cold concrete before squinting open his eyes. His arms instinctively snaked around Johnny, pulling his warmth closer. His head was throbbing- he pressed the ache closer into Johnny’s shoulder to bury it away again.

“N-no, Ethan. Please.”

His eyes fluttered open, squinting down at Johnny in the moonlight. He looked…scared. Must have had a nightmare again.

Ethan swallowed the grogginess from his throat and reached up to brush a few stray locks of hair from Johnny’s forehead. “What’s wrong?”

Johnny stared up at him, eyes shimmering. “Som..something’s not right. It’s wrong and-” Johnny’s voice cracked as a tear leaked from the corner of his eye. “It’s just…wrong.”

Ethan’s brows pinched together. “Why don’t you try to get back to sleep? It always hurts worst right away - maybe when you wake up-”

“-no, it’s wrong.” Tears were dripping steadily now. Johnny’s quick, shallow breaths pressed against Ethan’s chest. 

Was Johnny always this warm?

Ethan sat up, looking over Johnny. He was bruised, sure, but..he’d woken earlier and Johnny was alright. Not…completely alright, of course. But…healable. Crawford had used his fists, the damage was mostly to his thighs and torso. No broken bones, no sprains, just deep, aching bruises. 

..Ethan tried to pull him a little closer. “Some more sleep sh-”

Johnny pressed his palm against the ground, tugging himself free from Ethan’s arms. “I-I don’t know what it…what it is. Something…something’s not right…”

Something akin to fear started to curl in Ethan’s stomach. No. Weighed it down. Sour and heavy and hot, pressing against his mind. He sat the rest of the way up, too, folding his arms around Johnny. He kissed the back of his neck.

…Johnny was sweating.

In this cold??

He gripped Johnny a little tighter. “Does it hurt?”

Johnny reached up, clutching Ethan’s fore-arms. One hand clamping down, the other resting lightly. “Yeah, it’s…yeah.” Johnny swallowed. “It’s wrong. Something’s wrong.”

“Okay, okay I…I hear you.” Ethan didn’t know what to do. He rubbed his thumb up and down against Johnny’s shoulder. “What does it feel like?”

“..just...wrong.” 

“Does…it hurt more than usual?”

“...Um…I think so? No. Wait. Not…not more, jus- … different. I can’t…everything feels wrong.”

Ethan’s hand presses against his forehead. “..is it any particular place?”

Johnny’s breath pulled out in a whine, hugging Ethan’s arm closer. “...e…kinda everywhere but…b-ut ‘specially here-” he made a vague gesture over his abdomen.

Ethan frowned, extracting himself from Johnny’s grip. He carefully picked at the hem of Johnny’s shirt, carefully pulling it up and off of him. There were no goosebumps despite the chill that must have just washed over him. Sweat clung to the shirt, making a sticky sound as he forced it off Johnny’s skin. 

Ethan’s eyes slid back and forth over the bruises that just barely showed up as an outline in the sprinkling of moonlight that worked its way into the basement. His brows pinched, worry starting to churn through him.

..Crawford hit too hard. He knew these symptoms, Johnny was bleeding where he couldn’t see. 

Ethan pulled the shirt back down, praying to the first handful of gods he could think of that it would clear up within a couple days. At least one god had to listen to him, right?

“..is…is i-t okay..?”

Ethan looked helplessly over Johnny, hand lifting to cradle his face. “..I don’t…I think so - I do. But..I really think we should get you a doctor.”

Johnny laughed- but the small, spiteful sound immediately sputtered out into a small whine, breaths immediately falling faster and shallow. “Hh-hhhe w-on’t- n-no way-”

“...Just let me ask.”

Johnny’s head tilted into Ethan’s palm, cradling it there with his own. “...o-kay..”

So much for his headache. Is it still considered a headache when it’s a concussion? 

In any case, so much for his concussion.

Ethan leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Johnny’s forehead before dragging himself up and toward the stairs. He took them three at a time until his fists bruised against the door with the force of his banging. “HEY ASSHOLE-! GET THE FUCK DOWN HERE-!”

Johnny rolled his eyes through labored breath, propped against the wall. “...h-e’s not gonna come- it’s like fffour in the morning.”

“He will if I don’t shut up-” Ethan turned back to the door, hammering on the wood again. “CRAWFORD, YOU SLIMEY BITCH WE NEED A DOCTOR-!” 

Ethan paced, shouting up and out into the house he couldn’t reach for almost twenty minutes, his own head reeling and spinning damn near off his shoulders each time he screamed up to the well known abuser and an unknown god in tandem. 

Finally, finally, the bastard showed his face. 

The door slammed open the moment it was unlocked, gun pointed at Ethan. 

Ethan took a hesitant step backward down the stairs, eyes on the gun. He never got that out. 

“What. The fuck. Is wrong with you,” Crawford bit out, all but drooling venom. 

Ethan lifted his hands. “We need a doctor- you fucked up Johnny too much.”

Crawford scoffed, starting to close the door. “I didn’t do anything different, go the fuck to sleep.”

Ethan stepped forward, bracing one hand against the door so it couldn’t close. “No, wait- I’m seriously h-”

The sound of the gun cocking cut off his sentence. “He’s. Fine. You were a little bitch when you first got here, too. Deal with it.”

“He’s bleeding internally!”

“And who’s fault is that?”

Ethan froze, memories of running skittering across his mind. Johnny’s screams. Crawford’s cursing. Guilt curled fresh into his blood. 

Swallowing down emotions and pride, he tried again. “...please. He needs a doctor.”

“I will kill him if you don’t shut the fuck up. He’s fine. Keep pushing it and he won’t be.”

Rage flickered across Ethan’s eyes, but he let his hand fall from the door. 

In a moment, it slammed in his face, deadbolt snapping back into the frame.

[Previous | Masterpost | Next]

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @paleassprincess @wormwriting @distinctlywhumpthing @whump-cafe @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @azayta  @batfacedliar-yetagain @there-will-always-be-blood @siren-of-agony @whumpworld @bandages-andobsessions @deltaxxk @whumpasaurus101 @pickywhumpreader @whumpberry-cookie @morning-star-whump @nailevislev @throwawaywhumper @the-mourning-star @d-cs @pigeonwhumps @hold-back-on-the-comfort @suspicious-whumping-egg @snakebites-and-ink @whumpedydump @orphans-parent @whumplr-reader @rainbowsandwhumperflies @starfields08000 @sunnyesunny)

As always, lmk if you want to be added to the tag list!

[angelfleurry]

kinda specific but can you do a female reader x Toko with a reader who has a really bad migraine but is hiding it from Toko and everyone. Perhaps it gets revealed because it gets so bad she starts breaking down

♡ Toko x Fem! Reader with severe migraines:♡

Thank you for the request, Anon!! I hope you like it. I love specific things, honestly, it’s super interesting what people come up with! I’m hoping I did this right. I really feel for Y/N here, migraines are AWFUL.

I’m so sorry this took so long, I’ve had a lot of life stuff to concentrate on but we’re good! By the time this is likely to be uploaded, I would have started college again. So, to anyone else who's requested (thank you so much by the way) I am not intentionally ignoring them! I'm just a little busy now but I am working on them, and I love them!

I’m writing this as if it were taking place during Hope’s Peak.

Have a wonderful day, Anon! <3

~

♡ You didn’t really like admitting when you were hurt.

♡ Even though it didn’t matter, you had a rather strong sense of stubbornness when it came to that.

♡ Something about admitting you weren’t completely fine really bugged you.

♡ But, it bugged other people more when you didn’t admit when something was up!

♡ Toko was one of these people.

♡ By the way you’d wince, the way you seemed constantly uncomfortable no matter what you did, the way you grimaced and ducked your head at any light that was too bright, it was painfully obvious something was wrong.

♡ But you just wouldn’t admit it!!

♡ She didn’t quite know how to approach it, but she tried in her Toko-ish way.

♡ “Y-Y/N, you’re hissing again.” she’d say, eyeing you suspiciously, “Wha…What’s going on?”

♡ “Nothing, Toko,” you’d say, “Just bit my tongue.”

♡ “Ah…” she’d sigh, “Be more careful, idiot…”

♡ “I will, I love you.”

♡ “I…I lo…I love you too.”

♡ You managed to keep up the facade of being fine, but that didn’t mean you had managed to convince your body you were fine.

♡ Your eye would water every second, prompted by the lights, as your head throbbed.

♡ It honestly felt like someone was yanking your eye socket, poking and twisting.

♡ The more you tried to convince everyone things were fine, the more your migraine worsened.

♡ At one point your ears began ringing, which lead to you being unable to communicate with your peers for long periods of time.

♡ Every time someone spoke your migraine seemed to worsen.

♡ Still, somehow, you managed to keep it from everyone; but it was getting harder to do so.

♡ With great irritation you went to join everyone, head pained and eye watering.

♡ Things were okay for a while, but slowly you began to struggle.

♡ Your head hurt, your eye was throbbing, your ears felt heavy…

♡ All you wanted to do was slam your head onto a pillow and stay there, cocooned in the dark.

♡ You didn’t want to be here, not now. You didn’t want to be around anyone!

♡ Everyone was talking, their voices merging into a united myriad of ceaseless noise, whilst the lights above seemed far too bright. Your head hung low, aching, as you desperately tried to ease your irritation.

♡ However, putting your head at such a low angle seemed to make the migraine worse.

♡ It hurt.

♡ You bit your lip in muted agony, a hand raising to grip the side of your head that hurt.

♡ Toko seemed to catch on to this, staring at you for a while.

♡ You could feel her staring, but looking was just too hard.

♡ You remained how you were for a while, not paying attention to anyone, before attempting to raise your head up.

♡ Bad idea.

♡ The lights of the room immediately burned your retinas, your eyes suddenly producing far too many tears as your head felt sore. It felt like your head had been severely bruised, like your brain had been taken for a spin, like your eyes had been forced to stay open; it was too painful.

♡ You winced, covering your mouth.

♡ Toko immediately took note of this, and tried to talk to you, but that seemed to prompt more discomfort.

♡ This seemed to prompt more attention, and that made you spiral.

♡ Eventually you snapped, and just started crying.

♡ You felt terrible, but you couldn’t stop. Once those tears came, that was it.

♡ Your head instantly flew back down, both hands covering your face, and that’s when the sobbing started.

♡ Toko wasn’t quite sure how to approach you about this, but she did try.

♡ When everyone else started trying to get involved, that’s when you got worse.

♡ Between apologetic sobs, you managed to inform everyone as to what was going on, stating shakily that it’s been going on all day.

♡ “It really…It really hurts!” you cried, choking, head hanging low away from the light.

♡ Some people judged you, others tried to help, but Toko seemed to have a sudden surge in confidence and managed to get you up.

♡ “You’re…You’re all making it worse!”

♡ She stood up, grabbing at her sleeves, awkward yet direct.

♡ “Y-Y/N…Should we just go away…?”

♡ You nodded weakly, desperate to get away from everything.

♡ “We’ll…We’ll be back sometime, maybe. Not today, though…”

♡ Toko was never the best at comforting, you knew that, so when she walked you to your room and made you lay down; that meant a lot.

♡ You knew Toko wouldn’t be comfortable with the darkness you wanted so you rolled the blinds down just a tiny bit, letting some light in, before laying down.

♡ Toko appreciated that, and sat on the floor, looking at you as you lay down.

♡ You offered her a spot on the bed, but she was hesitant, preferring to be on the floor.

♡ She did, however, take a hand in hers, holding it as she moved closer from her spot on the floor.

♡ She held it, squeezing her grip to let you know she was there.

♡ You probably wallowed in the discomfort for a while, rambling.

♡ “Why didn’t you just…just tell anyone?” she quizzed, eyebrows furrowing.

♡ “I hate feeling weak. Makes me feel all victim-y,” you admitted, huffing, “If I can deal with it alone, I’ll try to. But…Toko it’s so painful.”

♡ “But…you’re my girlfriend…” she mumbled, confused, “Couldn’t you at least tell me? I’m…I’m bad at sane advice, sure…but…I’m here.”

♡ “Oh…” you exhaled, a little guilty now, “I know, I know. I just…”

♡ “It’s okay, I get it.”

♡ “No, no…! I…”

♡ “N-no, Y/N, I mean…I mean I genuinely understand. That’s just who you are, but…it’s only an issue for me if it actively causes you pain. If it actively hurts you and you could at least find some relief in telling me, and you still keep it to yourself, that’s where it bugs me.”

♡ …

♡ “I’m not mad, I just want you to know I am here.”

♡ You likely ended up falling asleep with her there next to you, still teary-eyed, but no longer because you were in pain.

♡ Just a synchronised blend of migraine effects and adoration for the girl who sat beside you.

[miriel-elenna]

Fine Wine

The series so far...

Dean found the picture wedged in a corner of Baby's trunk. It was him, circa 2002, or somewhere thereabout. It's some old polaroid shot, overexposed and grainy. Just him, tilted and off-center, poleaxed expression on his face.

He grabbed it and shoved it in his pocket. Didn't wanna look at it, definitely didn't want to think about it. Some stuff couldn't be changed so it was best kept buried.

Course, that's not how it ever worked. The image, specter really, kept popping into his head at the randomest moments. He'd be sanding a table or opening the fridge and that face would stare back at him out of his mind's eye.

The thing was, he'd forgotten most of his early twenties. Not on purpose and not for any real reason. He just didn't think about them that much. It'd sucked, sure, but compared to the rest of his life the trauma didn't really stack up. It was a time that he'd lived through, no more, no less.

What he did remember, in sighs and sepia tones, was the wide open road and the scent of lighter fluid, how lonely he'd been and how old he'd felt.

But that guy in that photo, Dean wasn't sure he recognized that guy. That guy looked like a kid, the kind Dean'd never gotten to be. Some dumb son of a bitch who thought hungover was the worst he'd ever feel.

He can't get over it, the distance between the kid he could see and the guy he remembered being.

One day, Cas found him staring at it. He'd pulled it out and set it right in the middle of the kitchen table, propped up against a carpentry book Cas'd dug up at the thrift store. It was too easy to get lost, not in the memories, but in the emotions, the emptiness.

Almost like poking a bruise, the dull ache, the electric jolt, the sharp feeling that papered over some kind of empty void deep inside.

Dean heard Cas step into the kitchen, his footsteps always loud and purposeful. He felt Cas walk up behind his chair and rest a hand on Dean's left shoulder.

"Handsome son of a bitch, isn't he?" Dean said, tone light but voice a little too rough.

Cas hummed. "I haven't seen this one before."

"Yeah. Found it laying around." Dean tapped the corner absently. "Kinda wild that I was ever that young."

Cas hummed again, a deep, thoughtful sound, and absently combed his fingers through Dean's hair.

Dean let himself lean into that touch, if only just a little.

"Time comes for us all, I suppose," Cas finally said.

Dean leaned back and twisted around to get a look at Cas' face. Cas' hair was thicker and wilder than it used to be, dark with streaks of white. He had a beard no, too, a littler grayer than his hair, and lines that creased around his eyes and mouth as he concentrated.

"Even for you?" Dean asked in a voice just a little too serious to be a tease.

"Especially for me," Cas promised, eyes staring into Dean's, deep and blue and earnest.

"Yeah. Okay." A weight lifted in Dean as the moments ticked away, counterbalanced and lightened by the steadiness in Castiel's eyes.

The emptiness, that loneliness, had been his only companion for a long time. His one real friend for large chunks of his life. But he could release it, let the good times now fill up the holes that solitude had left behind.

"Here you go." Dean picked up the photo and handed it over. "You can stick it in with all of the rest."

Cas held it carefully, long fingers gently gripping the lower edge. "As you wish."

[tinywhumper]

tiny’s first whump

h-hello, pls have my very much nothing really happens but kinda something still happens whump drabble??

thanks to @a-crumb-of-whump for encouragement! imma try to tw/cw this properly but gimme a shout if i need to add something ^^ tw/cw: whumped caretaker, whumpee edges into whumper territory, idk what it’d be called but like … irritating an existing wound? by like poking it? and stuff? lmk if there’s an official term or something! whumper watches them through camera

—

whumpee is just so tired. they can’t hardly keep their eyes open, but they need to keep awake, alert for signs of whumper returning. it’s cold in the room, the cement hard beneath them and grime digs into the bonnie’s of their knees, shins, ankles, the sore, thin-skinned tops of their feet. a half shudder shakes through them, oddly making saliva pool in their mouth. and then caretaker groans from their place in whumpee’s lap. whumpee blinks down at them, one hand already going to caress their temple and cheekbone. they wish they could whisper some sort of comfort but petting back caretaker’s hair is draining what little energy and focus they have. they need to save some to keep watch.

their breath is heavy in their chest with a gravitational pull that threatens to make their sternum, heart, lungs, ribs, everything cave in. caretaker looks torn in their sleep. a line between their brow and the downturn of their lips display their discomfort even in rest. whumpee’s lips tremble and that vast, yawning thing within them threatens to swallow them hole. staring down at the obscene swelling of caretaker’s dislocated shoulder is like staring over into an underwater trench: terrifying and beautiful in a dark, enthralling way, calling them to fall over the edge and into the unknown and nothing.

whumpee’s hand, shaking, trails over the blue, purple, black without thinking. despite the flinch of caretaker in their sleep, the jumping of their skin, whumpee lets their aching fingers press into the mottled bruise. the swollen, tender flesh gives as blood and other subdermal fluid moves as whumpee presses, pokes, pinches, exploring the thing in front of them like a toddler presented with something new.

it isn’t until caretaker cries out in their sleep that whumpee notices what they are doing, that caretaker is crying. tears run down caretaker’s face, slipping into their hairline, running into the hollows of their ears and starting to soak into the feeble excuse for a pillow that whumper gave them. with a flinch whumpee jerks their hand from caretaker’s shoulder, fingertips burning and bile roiling in their stomach. they were hurting caretaker, they hurt them. they clutch their hands to their chest, the urge to utterly tremble crossing their mind, yet they don’t, they remain frozen as they stare down at caretaker. acrid guilt pools in the back of their throat, the taste of shame. whumpee presses a hand to their mouth to quell the sudden panting breathlessness that hits them, making them whimper.

caretaker squirms in their lap like they were still trying to escape whumpee’s painful prodding and exploration. whumpee hesitates to bring a hand to caretaker’s temple and hair again to soothe them back into a deeper rest. only when caretaker settles does that tempting trembling take its course.

whumpee stares at caretaker’s face, searching for any sign to anything but sleep. they nibble at their fingertips as their panicked breathing, having run its course, starts to ears. what in the world had they been doing? why had they done that to caretaker? what possessed them? why were they fascinated by what they did, drawing that pain, feeling that plush give of flesh, why did they want to do it again?

whumpee glances around the dingy room again and listens, listens for any sign of whumper as they try to gather themselves. when they find nothing, hear nothing and their breath no longer hitches, hiccups in their chest whumpee’s gaze turns back to caretaker.

in their lap, curled mostly on their side, face upwards, caretaker seems so small. whumper knew how to break down even the stronger ones, and my gosh, caretaker is so strong— they held on for so long, until their body gave out. until surely some part of them had to acknowledge how out of place they were for trying to help whumpee beyond whumper’s strict commands. that they should stay their role, do only as whumper says and allows.

whumpee is unaware of the frown on their lips nor the way their eyes narrow as they look down upon caretaker. they don’t feel the pinch of their brow as itfurrows in some unfamiliar and overwhelming rush of anger.

slowly, as though caretaker would wake upon the slightest move, whumpee lowers their hand. they hover over caretaker’s shoulder, nails brushing featherlight, for several dreadful seconds as their heartbeat rises into their throat, ears, eyes, thudding harder and harder with every next beat. they squeeze down. it’s gentle at first, of course, then a little more and a little more. careful, measured increments of pressure and then starting to bear their weight down, torn fingernails cutting in. the more they bear down the more that floaty, absent sensation of before drifts in. they can’t feel anything, thinks anything as they dig their fingers and nails into caretaker’s shoulder with one hand and then both in a cruel mockery of a massage. they watch as caretaker’s chest heaves and they twist - still sleeping - away from the pain. whumpee follows them. they even go so far as to use one hand to pin them in place, hold them right where they want them.

whumpee isn’t sure how long they abuse caretaker’s shoulder. but they do know that when they are done, they feels less tired than they did before. sleepiness does still drag at their eyelids and dirt still digs into their legs as they resume watch for whumper.

—

whumper leans back in their chair, thumb stroking over their chin as a slow smile furls up the corners of their lips. the monitor in front of them flickers gently as the frames load in the live feed of their basement. it’s a little difficult to make out, but there is definitely something of a smile on whumpee’s face, something more relaxed about them after that pretty, petty show. this was unexpected, yes, but not detestable, no. no, whumper decided, there was no need to correct that behavior. it could bloom quite beautifully.

[giggly-squiggily]

Oh I just read your BSD collab! Fantastic! Just adorable😭✌. That awakened my lee! Dazai craving. Seeing as headcanons are open, can I please request some for lee! Dazai?

Oo, BSD! I don’t think I’ve written headcanons yet for these two, so this will be fun! I’ve gotcha covered, anons! :D And thank you so much for the kind words!

Below the cut for length!

Lee!Dazai Osamu

- I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again- if you ask this man directly if he wants to be tickled, he’ll get all sorts of flustered and shy. For a man who’s pride and joy is messing with people, he cannot take what he dishes out.

- Worst spots are his neck, lower back, and armpits. Any of those spots will guarantee a reaction! His neck especially is pretty bad- even something as gentle as taking a pulse there will make him scrunch up and giggle. He’s got a real nice and pretty laugh.

- He’s squirmy- not so much in the “will hit someone” kind of way but in the “if you don’t hold him down right he’ll escape within seconds” way. He’s quick too- the moment he catches on that you’re gonna tickle him, he’s GONE! It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy tickling or tickle fights- he just likes to make his lers work for it.

- Speaking of- unless you go for an especially ticklish spot on him, he’ll taunt you to do better. Even when he’s giggling like mad, he’ll say things like “Nohohohot quite thehehere!” or “Cohoohhome on, is thahahhat the best you cahahahan do?” Go for one of his bad spots and he’ll change his tune.

- Can’t handle teasing at all- not so much baby talk or counting, but direct things like “Oh? Didn’t you want this? You asked me to tickle you, no?” “Don’t start complaining now, you asked me to tickle you!” “Aww, can’t handle a few neck tickles, can you Dazai?” Anything like that and he’s puddy in your hands. You might even get a few soft wheezes!

Lee!Chuuya Nakahara

- Short king- Gravity man! He’s so freaking ticklish it’s not even funny. Just the threat of them will make him spazz out. Be prepared to get zero gravitated, kicked, or run an impromptu mile ala chasing him down if you want to tickle him.

- His worst spot is his belly. I don’t know why, he gives me ticklish tum energy? Really he’s ridiculously ticklish everywhere, but his belly, thighs and feet are killer spots.

- Has a loud, squeaky, manic laugh that’s full of curses and death threats. He’s also a big squirmer- only not only will he be trying to escape but he’ll also attack you with every limb and joint on his body and even sometimes his teeth. Yes- he will bite you. (how do you think Dazai got all those bandages?) It’s not uncommon for his lers to walk away with bruises and aches somewhere. If he likes you and feels bad, he’ll buy you whatever you want in apology.

- Poking him in the belly will both disarm him and set him off. It’s kinda like a super angry Pillsbury dough boy moment- first he squeaks out a giggle, then he’s raging at you for doing it. If you keep doing it it’s like a never ending cycle.

- Instant revenge type. He’ll immediately retaliate if you tickle him, going for all your bad spots and teasing you to the point of mirthful tears. He’s rather good at tickle fights- he has lots of experience growing up with Sheep and- of course- Dazai. He’s mastered his craft and is not afraid to bust it out at any given time.

Thanks for reading!

[iwritewhump]

whumptember day 25 and 26

title: sort of hostage

prompts: clutching comfort item (alt. 7), “i’m sorry for leaving”

characters: villain, sidekick

warnings: implied past abuse, underage sidekick (not specified but around 17-18), being held captive

744 words

~

Sidekick opens his eyes, eyes darting around, looking to find out where he is. There’s no light filtering into the room, so he’s either in a basement or it’s nighttime. When he realizes how cold it is, he decides he’s in a basement. His hand flies to the hilt of his dagger and he breathes out as soon as the cool metal touches his skin. 

He calms down with the blade in his hand and stalks around the room. He’s alone and there doesn’t seem to be any furniture in the room. There’s a metal door and he tries the handle in vain before continuing around the room. His legs burn from training with Hero and he knows he won’t be able to fight anyone who comes into the room. 

The door opens and a light clicks on. Sidekick jumps up and backs away, not able to make out who the figure in the doorway is. 

“Sorry about the light. When Henchman put you in here you were knocked out-not her fault, by the way. You were already like that- and she didn’t want to wake you up so she left it off. Normally it’d have been on.” comes the chilling voice of Villain. 

Sidekick stiffens. He brings the knife up, ready to strike if Villain comes too close. His shoulder aches from training the day before (had it just been a day? What time was it?) and he has to trust that Villain takes the threat seriously. 

“No need for that, Sidekick. I’m just here to drop off some blankets and food. Saw you were awake on the camera so I decided to pop in and say hi.” they gesture to a camera in the corner of the room and Sidekick watches as a light flashes red. 

“Of course, it’s just a safety measure to be sure you don’t escape. If you don’t want to be on it, you can sit under it. All it does is watch the door. Hope you understand.” Villain says. 

The armful of blankets they came in with falls to the floor and Villain retreats out of the room, muttering something about being right back. 

Sidekick inspects the pile and pulls out a heavy blue blanket. There’s no pattern and it reminds him a little bit of one he had when he was a kid. It wraps around him comfortingly and it makes him feel a little safer. 

The door opens slowly and Villain pokes their head into the room, smiling gently when they see that Sidekick found a blanket. “Sorry about leaving, I only have so many hands and it took me longer than I’d like to admit to realize that.

“Not sure what kind of food you prefer so I just kinda grabbed a few things from the kitchen. Feel free to whatever. I had Henchman run out and get some bottles of water since she used the last of them. Anything else you need?” 

“What is this?” Sidekick asks.  

Villain stands in the doorway, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?” 

“This,” he says, gesturing to the pile of blankets. “What is it? What are you doing?” 

“Oh!” Villain smiles. “You’re a sort of hostage. I’m just making sure Hero doesn’t do anything stupid for the next few days.” 

“Right.” Sidekick scoffs. “Like he’ll stop anything because of me.” 

He walks to the other side of the room and slides down the wall. Villain takes a step into the room and drops the bag stuffed full of food on top of the blankets. 

“What do you mean?” 

Sidekick rolls his eyes. “If Hero found a way to defeat you, nothing is going to stop him from doing it. No matter what. Trust me, he doesn't care about me as much as you think he does.” 

For the first time, Villain notices the bruises littering Sidekick’s arms. They poke out from his sleeves and he frowns. 

“Need something for those? They look painful,” they say, pointing to the patches of blue and black. 

Sidekick looks down and shakes his head quickly. “It’s nothing.” he rushes. The blanket wraps around him more so the only thing Villain can see is his head. “They’re old.” 

“Right.” Villain says. “Well, unless you need anything else…” 

They turn around and walk out of the room, ignoring the voice in the back of their head telling them something isn’t right. As long as Hero stayed away this was worth it. 

[boowhumps]

|WHUMPRIL 2023|

|Day 9 - Bruises|

(@whumpril)

⚠TW⚠

- Swearing

- Transphobia

- Mentions of getting beat up

- Suggestive themes

- Slight nudity (not sexual)

- Mention of Needles

----------------

I stumble into me and my boyfriend's apartment and slam the door behind me hard. I shove my hands further into the pockets of my jacket and I stare daggers into the floor.

"El?" I hear Zak calling my name.

I ignore him, even though it kinda hurts me to. It's not like he did anything wrong.

Fuck, I'm an asshole.

"El, you back already?" I hear him call for me again, this time closer.

I groan. "Yeah, it's me."

"You okay? You sound.. weird." Zak asks.

I wince from the stinging pain in my ribs. "Fine.. I'm fine." I try my best to sound normal.

I try to stumble into the bathroom but a firm hand on my shoulder stops me. Next thing I know I'm being whipped around.

I wince as I'm pushed up against the wall, my arms pinned by my wrists. I glare at those green eyes that at stare back at me.

"Who did this to you." He says, anger laced in his voice.

I huff in annoyance. Why does he have to be so damn.. protective..

Zak stares me down. "This is the part where you answer, Elliot."

I continue to glare at him. "Hell I don't know, some random idiots."

Zak's eyes study my figure.

"Do you know why they went for you?" He asks.

"Man, I don't know. I guess when you see someone buying a new binder they're automatically a target for getting jumped." I spit sarcastically.

Zak's eyes furrow. "Look at how they left you.."

I smirk. "You should see the other guys. I'm sitting pretty compared to them.. plus.. they don't have a overprotective boyfriend who'll make them feel better.." I trail off as I see Zak's face redden.

He snaps back into reality. "Ha ha Elliot. You're not getting out of this that easily. C'mon, I'll patch you up." He says.

I'm forced into the small bathroom where Zak starts getting the supplies. He stops to look at me for a second.

"Sit." He says.

"Um, where exactly? Because last time I checked there's no sitting area in this small ass bathroom." I talk back.

Zak huffs. "On the sink, idiot. Now hurry and sit before I decide to sit you up there myself."

"Like hell you will." I say as I sit on the edge of the sink.

Zak hums in response as he starts patching up my face.

"Ow- fuck." I wince as he cleand the cuts on my face.

"Stay still. It'll hurt less that way." He says sternly.

I stick my tongue out at him, and he responds with the same face.

Soon enough my face is patched up, but my ribs still ache.

Zak eyes me up and down again. "Any other injuries?"

I wince. "Fuck- uh, my ribs.. kinda hurt."

He hums. "C'mon and lay on the bed, I'll check your ribs."

I obey without any sassy comeback since the pains getting worse. It even hurts to breathe.

Zak stares at me. "Shirt off El, binder too."

"Help.?" I ask, and Zak shakes his head.

Soon my shirt and binder are off and discarded on the floor somewhere. The upper half of my body is covered with a blanket as Zak checks my ribs.

"I gotta.. poke around a bit El, just try to relax." Says Zak.

I nod my head and I suddenly hiss in pain as Zak pokes at my ribcage.

Every poke feels like a huge ass needle being plunged into my body.

Finally he stops.

"Nothing's broken, but it's definitely brusied." He states. "You mow what that means, you're taking it easy for a while.. and you also can't wear your binder."

I sigh. "Okay.."

Zak must sense my disappointment because he tosses me a large hoodie.

"Wear this for now, it'll help." He says, his tone softening.

I mouth a 'thank you' before slipping on the hoodie. It smells like softener.

I look at Zak who just stares blankly at me. "What?"

"I have an idea." I laugh and Zak's face drops.

"Nope, you never have good ideas." He groans.

"I'm wounded Zak, that you, would ever think something like that about me!" I gasp dramatically.

"Alright drama kid, what's your 'idea'?" Asks Zak.

I smirk. "We should watch something cool."

"Like what exactly."

"The Last of Us!"

"Fuck El, that's a bit too much angst for me."

"Whatever, we're watching."

"Ugh, fine."

"Yes! Papi Pedro here I come!" I exclaim as I run (more like slightly jog while holding my ribs) to the living room.

"El? What the fuck! What does Pedro have that I don't?!"

"Guns."

"Oh, so if I get a gun you'll love me?"

"He's also great with kids."

*You lost me at kids."

"Whatever loser, let's go already!"

"Alright, alright, I'm coming."

[stranger-nightmare]

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐞

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x (female) Reader

Summary: Rhett is injured from a fall whilst bull riding, so you offer to take charge for once and ride him…

Warnings: mention of injures, it’s porn with the bare minimum plot, smut, unprotected penetrative sex (m+f), creampie, cum play kinda?, fingering, bit of praise kink, minors DNI

A/N: this has been sat in my drafts for ages I swear but we finally got there, enjoy my first Rhett fic, I’m sure there will be more once I actually come up with some more ideas haha! I hope you like this <33

“Fuck, I want you so bad,” Rhett groans deeply against your lips. “I need you,” he pants in a strained whisper.

He kisses you fervently, his tongue invading your mouth and claiming it as his. His lips are rough against yours, pushing against you desperately, teeth clashing and your shared moans mixing. He kisses you so hard and so intensely it makes you dizzy, your mind going fuzzy to match the feeling in your stomach. His hands frame your face, holding you in place as he attacks your mouth with his. His large body is pushing you against the wall, his hips pinned against yours. But he leans back slightly, careful to not let his torso rest against yours. 

“Rhett,” you sigh as he starts to kiss down your jaw to your neck.

You let your head tilt back slightly, bumping against the wall behind you as you let Rhett have better access to your throat. When the edge of his cowboy hat hits your forehead as he leans down to kiss your skin, he quickly tosses it aside, not stopping his assault on your neck.

“Baby, we can’t,” you whine as he attacks your throat with hot, open-mouthed kisses. “The doctor said you need to take it easy. Your ribs are bruised, Rhett. You need to keep resting or you won't be better in time for next week’s tournament.” 

Your words are telling him to stop and yet you can’t seem to stop yourself as your hands slide up his neck to fist into his hair. You can’t seem to stop yourself as you arch your back off the wall he had you pinned to, wanting to push against him but being careful not to hurt him. 

“You need to take it easy,” you repeat half-heartedly. “At least- at least until next week,” you whisper, your mind becoming foggy as Rhett sucks and bites at that spot below your left ear he knows drives you crazy.

“I can’t wait that long,” he groans, all the time he continues kissing at your throat hotly. “I’m sick of taking it easy. I’m sick of jerking off into my own hand because I’m not allowed to fuck you. I can’t. I need you. Please baby, I need you. Need to be inside you,” he practically whines into the crook of your neck.

You moan at his words, the urgency rolling off his body as he grinded his hips against yours. You can feel his aching need through his jeans, his cock poking into you, and it was enough to finally break through the last of your resolve. You let out a groan of defeat and you can feel Rhett smile victoriously against your pulse point.

“That’s my girl,” he hums proudly as he starts to guide you towards the bed, his lips staying connected to yours, his hands still cupping your face.

But you shake your head as the bed hits the back of your knees. 

“Not there,” you murmur against his lips. 

“Wh-“ Rhett’s about to question but you crash your lips back on his.

You fist your hands into his shirt and start to guide him, leading him over to the corner of the room where a large armchair was situated. 

“Here,” was all you stated as you spun the two of you run until Rhett was stood with his back towards the chair.

“Sit,” you instruct lightly. 

You repeat your instruction before he has the chance to question or argue again. 

“Yes ma’am,” he smirks at you with a cocky disposition.

But he obeys your command, sitting down slowly into the armchair. He lowers himself carefully, easing himself into the seat so as not to move his ribs too much or too quickly. His face grimaces lightly as he finally settles into the space of the chair.

“You okay?” You look down at him worriedly. 

“I’m good,” he nods with a smirk. “Even better if you were on top of me though,” he adds with a charming wink. 

You chuckle at his comment as you take a step forward, your legs slotting between his where they were spread wide open, his hand palming his crotch. His eyes look up at you expectantly as his other hand reaches out to grab at your hips. You smile down at him just as you reach to pull your shirt over your head, revealing your naked chest. The deep groan that rumbles through Rhett at the sight goes straight to your aching pussy. You had to admit, you were just as desperate and needy for him. You quickly shuck off your jeans and panties too, leaving you completely naked in front of Rhett.

You can see he literally has to fight the urge to sit forwards, to lean towards you and grab you. He groans deliciously as you climb into his lap, your legs straddling his. As soon as you’re in his lap his hands are on your hips, pulling you against him. His lips attack yours greedily again, your moans mixing. Your hands slide down his neck, making their way towards the button of his shirt. You keep your lips moving with his as your hands work to undo his flannel shirt. 

Once it’s open you gently push it down his shoulders. You break the kiss only to help guide his arms out the shirt as he struggled to twist and lean forward. You hear him suck in a sharp breath and hiss in pain. 

You freeze on top of him in worry, looking at him with a silent question in your eye.

Rhett just shakes his head, letting you know he’s fine, even as his face is still plastered with a grimace. You feel your own face drop with sadness, concern, as your eyes land on the external bruising that still littered part of his torso. One of your hands involuntarily reaches out to touch the purple and blue marks lightly, your fingers dancing over the stained skin. After a second Rhett’s hand covers yours, his fingers wrapping around your own. He guides your hand away from his stomach, moving it to rest on his nape. He shakes his head lightly again and you get the message this time; he’s fine, he wants this, he needs this. 

His hands then quickly grab onto your hips again, fingers digging in harshly. He starts to move your hips with his hands, making you grind against him again, his silent plea for you to just keep going. You let out a breathy moan as the rough fabric of his jeans rubs against your cunt. He pushes his chin up, his lips searching for yours. You kiss him deeply again, both of you groaning into each other’s mouth.

Your fingers finally reach down and fumble with the fastenings of his jeans, quickly undoing his thick belt in the process. You let your hand reach inside his open jeans, palming his hardened cock and stroking him gently. Rhett all but shivers at the contact, the feeling of it being your hand wrapped his dick.

“Fuck,” he hisses, “don’t tease me baby. I can’t take it. I fucking need you. I need to feel you around me. Your fucking perfect tight pussy. Please,” he groans into the crook of your neck, burying his face in your skin, his lips moving feverishly over your throat. 

A wave of electricity shoots through you at his words. The sheer desperation in his voice, in his body. You had to admit, you kinda liked hearing him beg. 

But, for now, you’d take mercy on him. Afterall, you were just as desperate to have him fill you up again too. You shh him lightly, purring against the shell of his ear as you carefully pull his jeans down his legs, part way down his thighs, just enough to free his already leaking cock. Not a moment is wasted before you’re shuffling yourself forwards, lining yourself up to be seated just above Rhett’s waiting length. You grab him with one of your hands, your other gripping onto his shoulder to help support you. Both of you moan simultaneously as you finally line him up with your entrance and slowly sink down on him. You hiss lightly at the stretch, your pussy almost forgetting the feeling of how good Rhett stretched you open, how full he made you feel. A gasp passes your lips as you sink even further, taking him all the way to the hilt, the metal of his belt buckle biting into the skin of your ass.

“Oh, fuck,” Rhett groans, throwing his head back, eyes screwed shut, his fingers digging painfully into the flesh of your hips.

“Shit, you alright? Did I hurt you?” You ask worriedly.

Rhett lets out a tiny chuckle as he brings his head back up to face you. He brings up a hand to brush away a stray strand of hair back behind your ear. He shakes his head lightly to answer your question. 

“No,” he smiles at you lazily, "you just feel s’fuckin’ good,” he drawls, his smile twisting into a smirk.

A smirk grows on your own face before you place a quick kiss to his lips again. Then, slowly but surely, you start to move. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you steadily start to move your hips, keeping with a gentle rocking motion as first, not wanting to start bouncing on him just yet. You were testing his limits, not wanting to cause any pain or further injuries. Rhett groans deeply, his brows furrowing in pleasure as you rock gently on his cock.

“Shit I’ve missed this,” he groans deeply. “Missed how good you feel. So fucking tight for me.”

You moan at his words, your hips starting to grind a bit faster.

“Such a good girl for me. Making me feel so good. Always takin’ care of me,” he hums as one of his hands slides up your body to grope at one of your breasts.

“Rhett,” you whine out his name as he pinches and squeezes your nipple, rolling it between his fingers in the way he knew drove you crazy. 

His other hand moves lower down your hip until his thumb was pushing against your folds, the pad of his finger starting to rub messy circles over your clit. He leans forward, letting his lips find that special spot where your neck meets your shoulder, the special spot he knew made you weak in the knees when he sucked on it. He was playing your body every way he knew how, trying to rile you up so you would get right down to fucking him, instead of slowly rolling your hips on him as you currently were.

“C’mon baby please,” he groans, looking up at you pleadingly. “I need more. Need you to fuck me. Please,” he pouts, those baby blue eyes looking up at you.

The urgency in his voice, the pitiful desperation in his eyes, it has the last of your resolve breaking down. An almost begrudging moan escapes your lips as you finally give in. You plant your feet on the chair, on either side of his thighs, and use the position to start bouncing on Rhett’s cock, feeling him slide in and out of you. Pleasure flares through your body, your head tossing back as another moan rips from you.

“Fuck yes, that’s it baby,” Rhett groans with a smirk on his face as he watches you, “just like that.” 

You reach up and hold his hand that was still palming your breast, keeping his hand on you. You use your other hand to grip onto his nape, fingers twisting into his hair. Pulling yourself forwards again you arch over Rhett, letting his face be buried in your chest as you cradle his head. You switch your tactics, combining your bouncing motion with a slight rocking motion, moving frantically in Rhett’s lap. His arms move to your back now, his palms flattening against your shoulder blades, holding you tight against him. You feel him shift his hips, trying to buck up to meet your movements. But he quickly stops, a painful groan sounding from him, his body tensing and lurching forward.

“Shit,” he curses through clenched teeth.

“Shit, baby, you okay?” You stop moving for a moment, taking his face between your hands.

“Yeah,” he nods grimly, “just probably shouldn’t have tried that” he chuckles as he finally starts to unclench his body, leaning back in the chair again.

You roll your eyes playfully with a sarcastic sigh. You gently but firmly pin his shoulders back against the chair.

“You just sit still,” you tell him seriously, “let me do all the work. Like you said, I always take good care of you,” you smirk with a quick wink.

Rhett takes a deep breath and rolls his neck. He didn’t like giving up control, you knew this. But if he wanted to get off, to have you keep fucking him without hurting himself anymore, he’d have to. Rhett nods curtly, letting his arms fall lazily to his sides, his hands resting on top of your thighs.

“Good cowboy,” you tease with a chuckle as you slowly start to roll your hips again.

Rhett is ready to quip a comeback at the pathetic pet-name, but he’s quickly lost in the feeling of you riding him again, your cunt clenching, squeezing him. All coherent thoughts and words vacate his mind as he finally lets himself get lost in the feeling of you. You quickly lose yourself to the pleasure too; you just feel so full, so full of him, so happy to finally be connected in this way again. 

Rhett lets out a litany of curses and praises as you speed up your movements again, frantically riding him towards both of your highs. By the tight edge in his voice, you can tell he’s starting to get close. You bring a hand down between your bodies, your fingers quickly finding your clit, wanting to work yourself quicker towards a climax so that you could finish with him. But your hand is quickly swatted out the way, your finger replaced by Rhett’s thumb.

“Allow me, ma’am,” he drawls, looking up at you with a cocky smirk.

You just smirk back at him, letting a content sigh fall from your lips as you revel in the feeling of his thumb working your small bundle of nerves, the feeling of his cock moving deep inside you as you grinded in his lap. His thumb works your clit expertly, just like he’d done many many times before. You moan, feeling your cunt clench tightly over him.

“Oh fuck baby,” he hisses. “You’re gonna make me cum. Feel s’good. Shit, shit I’m gonna…” he cuts off with a deep grunt as you feel his cock twitch inside you.

“Fu-uck,” he drawls out as he spills himself inside you, each roll of your hips and clench of your pussy milking him for all he was worth. 

His head is thrown back, his face scrunched with pleasure, his chest heaving with his rapid breathing, his fingers digging into your hips so hard they’d bruise. The thumb on your clit had a stilled as he’d cum, as he’d lost all focus on everything other than how fucking divine you felt. You gently rock him through his orgasm, steadily slowing down your pace. You dip your head to gently kiss and suck marks onto his beautifully exposed neck, humming with pride against his skin. “Shit,” he curses again. “Darlin’ I’m so sorry. You didn’t… you didn’t-“ he lifts his head to look at you again.

You shake your head, flashing him a gentle smile.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, letting a hand rest on his cheek, thumb stroking his cheek.

“Like hell it is,” he huffs, sitting up slightly, doing his best to hide the grimace as he does so. 

Rhett lifts you up by your hips, guiding you off his slowly softening cock. 

“Rhett, what-“ you go to question him but he cuts you off.

“Want you to cum, baby,” he practically pants, “need you to cum for me.”

Next thing you know his cock is replaced by two of his fingers sliding into your cunt. You both groan at the sinful wet sound of him pumping his fingers, finger-fucking his own cum back into you. His thumb once again connects with your clit and it has you lurching forwards in pleasure, just barely able to catch yourself on his shoulder and hold yourself up. He curls his fingers inside you, letting his fingertips rub against that particularly sensitive spot. 

“Oh fuck, Rhett,” you moan as you quickly feel your release start to build inside you.

“Yeah, that’s it sweetheart,” he hums deeply. “Cum for me baby, I need you to. Need to feel it.”

Your mouth hangs open limply, gasps and moans falling from your lips, as the wave finally breaks, pleasure coursing through your body. Your fingers dig roughly into his shoulders as he pumps you through your orgasm, keeping up the circles on your clit, letting your body exude every ounce of pleasure it had to offer until your start to buck and jerk from the overstimulation; only then did he let up. He hums in satisfaction as he looks at you, his face simultaneously smug and also completely fucked-out. 

He pulls his fingers out of you and you whimper at the loss of contact. Your whimper quickly turns into a pathetic moan as you feel his cum leak out of you, streaking down the inside your thighs. Rhett flashes you a wicked grin as he holds up his hand, showing off the glistening coat of his cum and yours that covered his fingers. Your breathing hitches, a groan getting caught in your throat as you look at the deliciously filthy sight. Before you can think about it you’re leaning forwards to take his fingers into your mouth. You swirl your tongue around, sucking his fingers clean, tasting the mixture of his release mixed with yours. Rhett lets out the deepest groan you think you’d ever heard from him as he watches you wide-eyed.

“Shit, you’re so fucking filthy,” he croaks, looking at you with a mixture of delighted shock and incredulity. 

You hum, a smirk tugging at your lips, as you release his now clean fingers from your mouth. You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, enjoying the half-shocked, half-cocky expression that decorated his face. The next thing you know his other hand is gripping you by the back of the neck, pulling you down until your mouth collided with his. You both moan into each other’s mouth. His tongue invades your mouth swiftly, searching for that taste of both you and him that lingered in your mouth. He kisses you roughly, deeply, devouring your taste.

“Fuck,” he mumbles against your lips. “I’ve missed that. Missed fucking you.”

“Hmm,” you hum your agreement, pulling back to look down at him. “Well, you know, if you stopped getting yourself hurt whilst riding bulls, we’d be able to fuck more often.” 

Masterlist

A/N: idk why this was so difficult to write, like I’m so down bad for this man and write for him like non-stop atm but idk, this was so hard to churn out and I don’t feel like it’s my best work but whatever, I hope you guys still enjoyed it tho

Taglist // Join My Nightmare Realm // Ko-fi

[noblest-roman-of-them-all]

Lactose Intolerant.

Here, have another little ficlet partly inspired by @haysgrove 's Tummy Ache Agenda in which seasoned Tummy Ache Veteran Virgil helps out Roman after a run in with a bowl of cream of broccoli soup. (Takes place after My Negative Thinking)

Roman moaned and curled in a little tighter on himself, arms folded over his protesting stomach. So maybe the cream of broccoli had been a bad idea...

On the plus side, at least the bruising on his face was gone.

It meant he could bury his face further into his pillow and moan as dramatically as he liked. Even if he did sound like the spirit of drowned, disparaged Victorian child as Remus had told him a few minutes ago when he offered to bring Roman a plate of saltine crackers to settle his stomach.

In all reality, it wasn't necessarily that he was in pain exactly, just miserably bloated and horribly gassy.

It was very unbecoming of royalty.

There was another strange gurgling sound, like a drowning eel or something and Roman winced at the cramping feeling that decided to make itself known, reminding that he was, in fact, in some measure of pain.

He didn't even bother to raise his head at the light tapping on his door when it came, distracted and distressed as he was, and called out instead: "Do you have an appointment?"

To his surprise it was the Embodiment of Anxiety that poked his head through the door.

"I have tea?" He offered. "Logan said soup Morality made you would probably upset your stomach and I heard Remus saying he thought you were gonna- he said you didn't feel great, so I made some of the tea that- that Deceit usually makes me when my stomach's upset," Anxiety explained as he crossed the room and set the tea on Roman's nightstand.

"Oh. Th-thank you. That's...thoughtful of you," Roman stammered and started to push himself upright. He got half way there before his stomach protested both with a wave of cramps and loud gurgle. Roman grimaced and ducked his head, his face flushing red. "S-sorry, I'm not-"

But Anxiety waved him off. "Remus eat whole blocks of cream cheese like they're bananas, you're good. I brought this too." He pulled a hot water bottle from his hoodie pocket and offered it to the Prince. "It'll help the cramping."

Roman took it almost reverently. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

Anxiety shrugged, suddenly self-conscious. "You're welcome? Look, just...don't tell anyone, okay? This kinda thing isn't- Just take those dairy tablet things next time, okay? And if you start feeling nauseous lay on your left side." And with that he dropped though the floor, leaving behind a baffled Roman.

[tommiruewrites]

⌜↳ bruises and bubbles ˖⁺⌟

✩ pairing(s) - Cedric Diggory x gryffindor!reader

✩ status - dating

✩ requested? - no

✩ prompt(s) - "are those bruises?!" "it's not a big deal' 'it is a big deal to me." i was also heavily inspired by a fic i read by cloudybarnes :))

✩ summary - you have a terrible day and end up with several mild injuries. your boyfriend, Cedric, becomes worried about you and wants to make sure you are safe and loved.

✩ tw/cw - like one curse word, undressing kinda?? but nothing smutty, kinda angtsy but ends with fluff

✩ word count - 1.1k

✩ a/n - sorry i wrote this in like 30 minutes at 4am and im sleep deprived so it's not amazing but its definitely words !!

you can also read this on ao3

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Today was already turning out to be pretty shitty and it was nowhere near over.

To start off you woke up with a pounding migraine just to find out your alarm stopped working and never went off. So, you had to wince in pain as you ran through the castle. Unfortunately arriving 34 minutes late caused you to lose 10 house points and you had to sit in the blinding classroom trying not to show any signs of your throbbing pain.

Then, at lunch you spilled your drink all over your robes, causing your already annoyed housemates to poke fun at you. You looked around for Cedric but couldn't find him. You didn't have time to change out of your robes because you didn't want to be reprimanded by Wood for being late to Quidditch practice again.

Of course, on your way to practice Malfoy tripped you with his foot causing you to land hands first on the ground and sprain your wrist. The force of your fall also intensified your still lingering migraine. You forced yourself away from Malfoy's cackling since you weren't in the mood for a detention today. Ignoring your aching, you refused to bring yourself to Madame Pomfrey's and carried yourself to the quidditch pitch, still getting scolded by Oliver since the fall had caused you to be late despite your efforts.

Oliver blew the whistle, and everyone took to the air. Everything was going smoothly until you turned to dodge a bludger and your injured wrist gave out, causing you to lose your grip on the broom and fall off. Thankfully you weren't too far off the ground at the time so there were no major injuries, only some bruising on your right hip and shoulder. You still refused to go to Madame Pomfrey's, insisting that you were fine, and finished out the practice.

Once everyone was released, you were so tired that you could barely pick your feet up off the ground. You forced yourself to walk up to your dorm, your only motivation being hitting your mattress and sinking into the pillows. You also hoped to see Cedric, since you hadn't seen him all day. Your body was still pounding, but significantly less than before. Though still enough where you could feel your heartbeat in your head and a throbbing in your wrist.

Instead of going straight to your room, you decide to see if Cedric was in his dorm room yet. You knock on the door and wait for his, "come in", to twist open the knob to his dimly lit room. Cedric looks up from the book he was reading with a small smile, but as he takes in your features his smile quickly vanishes.

"Darling, are you alright?"

He puts his book on the side table and sits up as you approach the bed.

"You look tired."

He was right. You were extremely drained and had the looks to prove it. Your skin was flushed, you had dark circles under your eyes, and your hair was a mess.

You nod your head in agreement and sit next to him, resting your forehead on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around you and begins drawing small shapes on your shoulder.

"I am. I'm exhausted." you practically breathe out

"Do you want to talk about it?"

You sigh and hold back tears of frustration and exhaustion. You can't muster up the energy to talk about it without cracking, so you simply nod your head and hug him tighter.

"Why don't you get changed out of your robes and into some fresh pajamas. I'm sure that would be much more comfortable."

You sit up and smile. You go to grab some pajamas that look comfortable out of one of Cedric's drawers. You find a comfortable pair and begin to change out of your dirty robes. It's not the first time you and Cedric have seen each other undressed so it doesn't faze you. You take off your shirt and skirt in preparation for wearing the warm, cozy pajamas.

"Woah, are those bruises?!"

You look at yourself in the mirror to see giant black and blue bruises adorning your right hip, shoulder, and wrist.

"Did someone do this to you?!"

He stands up but doesn't move from the bed.

"No, no. I just had a small quidditch accident and a little fall, that's all." You assure him as you get closer to where he's standing.

"Do you need to go to the hospital wing?"

"No, no I- ouch!" you wince as Cedric lightly touches the bruise on your hip.

"Sorry." he says, quickly drawing his hand back, "Those look pretty bad, I really think you should get checked out to make sure you didn't break anything."

"I'm fine, I promise." you try to convince him. It didn't seem to be working very well.

If you were being honest probably should go to Madame Pomfrey's since your wrist seemed to be slowly swelling up, but you couldn't bring yourself to admit that.

"Let me have a better look at them."

He leans over to turn on the lamp and you groan and hold your head in pain as your migraine springs back to life at full force.

"Y/n!" He immediately shuts off the light, "Alright, that's it. I'm taking you to see Madame Pomfrey."

"No! I'm fine, it's just a little headache. I don't need to see Madame Pomfrey."

"Stop being so stubborn."

"It's really not a big deal, Ced!"

"It is to me." he says lightly squeezing my hand with his own.

Cedric brushes some hair out of your face and rests his hand on your cheek, which you happily lean into.

"How about this, after we get you checked out and make sure everything's alright, I'll run you a nice warm bubble bath and then you can sleep. How does that sound?"

You smile at the thought of finally getting some rest and nod.

Which is exactly what happened. Madame Pomfrey gave you some awful tasting medicine to help with the pain and swelling then sent you on your way. Cedric made a calming, warm bubble bath and read you some of your favorite mystery novel. By the time he was done reading you had fallen asleep. He picked you up, dried you off and helped you back into the warm pjs. Then he tucked you into bed and curled up next to you, holding you close to his chest and falling asleep to your heartbeat knowing that you were safe.