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sweeetcreatvre · 4 years

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God-Sent Angel

“I lied to you, Harry.” You looked up at him waiting for an answer and hoping he doesn’t get too upset with you.

a/n: i’ve been in a mood!! these last few days. i haven’t written in forever, but this idea popped into my head and the words just floated onto the page. i hope you guys like it! i am a very small page still, so if you see this if you could like, repost, and consider following i will love you forever. thank you for reading 🤍

pairing: harry x reader

warnings: explicit talk of mental/emotional abuse, please don’t read if you can’t handle it. this was heavily based off of my experience with my parents. this is not meant to try and romanticize abuse in any way, and please don’t take it like that. abuse is not fun, there’s no good side to it. a little angsty? fluff

word count: ~2.6k

•••

You met Harry when Sarah and Mitch introduced the two of you a little over a year ago. Sarah’s your best friend, you’ve known her since uni, and she’d convinced you to meet Harry by telling you that it would just make it easier for the two of you to hang out if they didn’t have to split their time between you and Harry and you all just hung out together.

You immediately took a liking to Harry. Because of your horrid anxiety and how awkward it made you, you usually hold back until you know people a little better, but something about Harry put you at such ease with him.

You hung out a couple times alone as “friends”, but both realized it was more than that when you declined Sarah and Mitch’s offer to go out because you already had a date with chinese take out and a line up of rom-coms you’d planned to watch for the night.

You and Harry bonded over cheesy movies. With his busy schedule and how difficult it is for him to go in public, you would watch movies at one of your homes and then reenact the scenes with him.

Things with Harry were easy, he made you happy, and he put you at ease.

•••

You went home to Manchester with Harry one day and truly had the best time. You loved how much his family cared for each other, and how they interacted.

That night, as you were laying on his chest in Anne’s guest room bed, you spoke the words that had been in your head all night, “I hope our family is like yours one day.” You didn’t really plan on saying it, the words just kind of came out.

You were worried you’d scared Harry by being so open about kids with him. You were serious obviously, having met his family and everything, but you hadn’t really talked about kids yet.

He still hadn’t talked causing you to look up at him and sit up a little. “I mean, not that we’re having kids or anything anytime soon, I just thought maybe one day, or not, That’s fine too.” You let it all back in one breath wishing you would’ve kept your mouth shut.

He pulled you back to his chest and kissed the top of your forehead before whispering, “(y/n), I want nothing more than to have a family with you one day. I love you, and I plan on keeping you around for as long as you’ll let me.”

You smile into his chest and place a soft kiss there. “I love you too,” your voice is muffled by his chest.

•••

After you met Anne and Gemma, Harry kept begging you to introduce him to your family. For a while you were able to put it off, saying they were in America, which is true, but not the reason you won’t let him meet them.

Your parents were... difficult. They never hit you growing up, not enough to leave any marks at least, but they yelled, and got angry, and got drunk, and got manipulative. Because they never hit you, it took you a long time to accept what they were doing was abuse.

When you turned 18 you applied to colleges abroad and got accepted into a university in England, you haven’t looked back since. Your parents were always the thing holding you back in life, so 3 years later, when your little brother turned 18 and moved out of the house, you cut off all communication with them. You still talk to your siblings, them being the only thing that kept you sane. You talked to them almost daily, and sometimes you’d even go visit them. Your oldest sister came to England a few times, her being the only one you fully trusted to not tell your parents where you lived.

But telling all of that to Harry was not something you were interested in. It was too much baggage, and no one ever understood how you could just cut off the people who raised you. It was always “They’re your parents, they love you, give them a second chance.” and you’re tired of hearing how you’re hurting them when they hurt you for 18 years.

So you made up excuses as to why he couldn’t meet them for as long as possible.

You spent your first Christmas together at Anne’s saying you couldn’t afford to go home, and you refused to take the money Harry offered to buy you a ticket.

That summer you compromised with him and your older sister came to stay with you.

Harry loved your sister. He said you act so similar, and he loves seeing you so happy. Your sister brings out a different side of you, and Harry adored it.

That also meant he just wanted to see more of your family.

•••

Harry had never spent a Christmas away from his family, and you didn’t want to spend Christmas away from him, so you were hoping that was enough for him to accept you not going home.

As you walked into Harry’s home after work he calls out to you “I’m in the kitchen, love!”

You walk into the kitchen and immediately your senses get filled with a pleasant smell. As you walk in, he turns from the stove to give you a kiss, but he holds you in his arms as you pull away from each other.

“Hi, baby,” you half-whisper half-laugh out to him.

“I missed you today,” he began pressing more kisses to your jaw then down your neck, but they were slow and sweet.

Your arms around his neck, you play with the hair at the nape of his neck, loving that it’s growing long again, the curls tangling in your fingers.

“What’s for dinner it smells delicious?” you ask him as he’s still kissing at your neck.

“You smell delicious, I’ll have you,” he mumbles in between kisses, but then his kisses picked up a faster pace and got more toothy.

You laugh at him and then gasp as he’s biting at your skin then soothing it with his tongue. However, you push him away because you’re starved, only having a small lunch because you had a busy day. “Baby, I’d love to but I’m starved, feed me first.”

He laughs at you then turns back to the stove. He lifts the lid on the soup pot so you were able to look inside. “I made your favorite, figured it would be nice for the snowy day it is.”

You smile at him, he never fails to make you so happy by doing simple things for you.

Your whole life you struggled with feeling like your presence was too much. Always calming yourself down so you were never too excited or too sad or asking for too much.

Harry never made you feel like that though. He went above and beyond for you time after time and you loved that about him. He’d never take your praises for it either. “‘s no big deal, just wanted to remind you how much I love you,” he would say, but to you that was a huge deal.

After you eat you clean up the dishes together and you’re ready to cuddle up on the couch and watch a movie with him, but Harry has other plans for the evening.

“I have an early Christmas present for you,” he says after coming back from his bedroom where he disappeared for a few minutes.

“Harry..” you started, but he silenced you with his finger pressing to your lips.

“It’s for both of us really, and it can’t wait until Christmas, so you have to open it now,” he places a small wrapped box in front of you, “go on.”

You hesitantly untie the bow holding the top to the bow then take the lid off. Inside there’s two pieces of paper, two plane tickets. You read the information on the tickets and see that they’re round trip from the 22nd to the 26th and they’re to Indianapolis airport. AKA Harry has planned a trip for the two of you to go home together for Christmas so he can meet the rest of your family. Shit.

You stare at the tickets in disbelief, then at him, then back to the tickets. “H..” you start but you trail off, not even knowing what to do about this. He spent hundreds of dollars on you to meet your family, and gave up Christmas with his own too, and there’s no way you’re going.

He seems to pick up on the fact that you’ve been awfully silent. “Ya gonna say anything?” he asks carefully. You can hear in his voice that he’s afraid he’s messed up, but he’s trying to hide it with a smile and joke. He’s being so hesitant with you, scared to make a move or say anything.

You look up at him with shiny eyes, tears threatening to fall over. You were gonna say something now, but before you could Harry started again.

“Oh, God, I messed up didn’t I? I- I shouldn’t have done all this planning without even asking you. I shouldn’t have just invited myself home with you. You know what, it’s fine I don’t care about my ticket, you can go by yourself, I’ll stay here. You never see your family, I mean I should’ve known you would want to be alone with them. You go, I’ll stay here, I don’t care, just please stop looking at me like that or I swear to God I’ll start crying too. You’re the only thing I’ve ever been this scared to lose, I don’t care what you need. Take it, take it all.” The whole thing is rushed out and you can tell he’s freaking out.

You grab his hand, still in your place on the couch and he’s standing in front of you. You intertwine your fingers, “Can you sit down?” you whisper softy to him. He looks at you for a moment before moving to sit next to you, but you’re both turned sideways so you’re still facing each other.

“You can tell me if you don’t want me to come I won’t be upset.” He sounds so heartbroken by the idea that he’s scaring you off and it’s killing you.

“No, H, no, baby. I don’t want you going, but I’m also not going to go. It’s not the gift I love it, and I love that you always try to buy me the most personalized gift, but I just- I can’t go home.”

“I don’t understand. Your family is there, you- you should go be with them for Christmas.”

Staring at your hands in your lap you think of how you’re going to tell him this. “I lied to you, Harry.” You looked up at him waiting for an answer and hoping he doesn’t get too upset with you.

“What?” He’s not mad, just more confused.

“You haven’t met my family because I don’t talk to them anymore. My parents, I mean. I obviously talk to my siblings, you know i talk to them, but not my parents. I haven’t spoken to them in 4 years, and I intend to keep it that way.” A few tears have slipped down your face and your voice keeps breaking.

“Can I ask why?” His hand comes to rest on your cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb.

“They were abusive,” you barely whisper the words and Harry has you in his arms immediately his chin rests on the top of your head, and with shaky breath you cry into his chest, holding tightly around his waist feeling so vulnerable and exposed right now. You’re sitting sideways in his lap, one of his hands is on your back, the other on your waist and his thumb is rubbing back and forth on the small bit of exposed skin above your pants where your shirt has ridden up.

When your breathing has gotten a little more normal, you look up at him and he places a kiss on your forehead. “They weren’t physical, but the screamed.. a lot” your voice sounded weak, but it wasn’t as shaky.

“You don’t have to tell me. If you don’t want to, I mean. I believe you.” You shake your head.

“I want to tell you.” You felt so bad for lying to him for so long. “It wasn’t ever bad until I was like 11 or 12. My sister says she believes it’s just because she took a lot of the heat.” You have 2 older sisters, Charlotte and Sarah, they’re 9 and 11 years older than you. Your oldest sister was the target of a lot of their stunts. “She moved out when I was 8, Sarah when I was 9, and we had a couple good years. Then we moved in with my grandma, and shit hit the fan.”

“I struggled with the workload of my classes, and they didn’t like that, said it made them look bad. My dad would get mad and yell, he even told me he hated me once. My mom checked on them obsessively, and I’d get angry messages about how bad I’m doing during the school day.”

“When my grandma got super sick, everything got ten times worse. She was my rock and I saw her declining everyday from January-August. My dad continued to be up my ass about grades, while also drinking ridiculous amounts. My mom fell into what I think was a depressive episode, and would come home late and say things like ‘I didn’t come home because no body values me here anyways’ but not in a way that was sad, she’d be angry about it and yell about it to us.”

“After she died I had to learn to live without her, and I had no clue just how much she was keeping us together. The next 3 years was constant screaming and manipulation. My grades slipped a little, and they hated that I wasn’t their perfect little prodigy who just pranced around knowing everything anymore. They made me feel so worthless, and like my entire existence was a burden. I was too loud, and too talkative, and too lazy, but not smart enough, and I didn’t work hard enough, and I had no pride in the things I did.” You paused for a minute.

“You’re the only person that’s ever made me feel like I’m not too much or too little.” You whisper out the confession to him knowing that it is how you truly feel about him. “I moved here when I was 18, and cut off all ties with them when Carson turned 18. 3 years later. I’m the only one of us to actually do it, but I’m just so much happier without them in my life.”

“I’m convinced you’re an angel,” His voice cracks and you look up to him to notice he’s shed tear or two and more are threatening to slip out, “sent for me, straight from the gods, because I don’t think any human is as amazing as you. I don’t have any idea what I did to deserve and angel like you, but I’m never letting you go. I love you, and I love that you’ll cry in my arms and how open you are with me. You really are a god-sent fucking angel.” He’s cupping your face in his large hand now. “We won’t go to the States for Christmas. We’ll go to Manchester, and we’ll spend it with my mom and sister.”

“I’m sorry we’re not going, I know how bad you wanted to meet them.”

“No, baby, it’s ok. We’ll spend all the Christmases here, and one day we’ll host Christmas. With our family that will be just like mine, like you said you wanted the first time you met Mom and Gem. You’re gonna be so happy, that’s my life mission, to make my heavenly angel happy.”

“I am happy, H. Right here, with you.”

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fandom #harry styles fanfiction

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ficforce · 4 years

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Cold Season

I wrote this whilst I was ill… It’s likely awful. Hinawa: No one even realised that Hinawa was sick until after he had collapsed in the break room. He had been quieter than usual and didn’t seem to take notice of the chaos that Arthur and Shinra were causing whilst Maki tried to stop them, Y/N had made him tea earlier but he had barely touched it… then he just passed out. Y/N had been closest after Obi and they laid him out on the couch to check his vitals, she noted right away that his skin was hot and with his hat removed she could see how pale he was. Why hadn’t she noticed? She was his girlfriend for goodness sake! “I’ll carry him to bed, Y/N, would you mind looking after him for a while?” Obi lifted the other man like it was easy and she followed after him quickly, “He’s real stubborn when it comes to his health, he’ll tell others to take a break or rest but when it comes to himself…” “He’s like any mother hen, he puts the chicks before himself – it’s one of the things I really love about him, Captain.” Obi threw a smile her way as she opened the door for him, “But you still wanna punch him for not saying anything, right?” “That’s correct, right in his dumb face.” They got him on the bed and Y/N unzipped his orange jumpsuit, “I’ll take care of it from here, would you mind sending some cold water and a flannel down, maybe some painkillers?” The man gave her a nod and headed out, Y/N pulled his arms out of the sleeves and tried to lift him a little to get it off; why did he have to be so heavy? Hinawa let out a soft groan and his eyes opened groggily, realising what was going on he sat up and made to get out of bed, “You’ve got a temperature, Takehisa, don’t you dare get up. Captain told me to look after you.” “… Then at least let me get out of these clothes.” Her eyes widened as she realised he wasn’t going to argue and she moved so he could change into a loose pair of pants and a tshirt before he laid back down. Y/N brushed her fingers over his jaw and then removed his glasses to set aside, “You should have said something sooner.” He let out a sound that was either denial or agreement to her words, “You got a headache?” “A little.” He hadn’t wanted to cause trouble for anyone, he wasn’t good at asking for help in the first place and now he had taken a member of their team away from duty to look after him, “I figured I would be fine.” “You’re just not used to being looked after, you have me now, Takehisa, you have Company 8 too, we’re your family and we can’t have our Mother running himself into the ground.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek and spent the rest of the day looking after him. Obi: Y/N nearly jumped out of her skin when the sound of metal crashing down onto the floor startled her. Turning her head she was surprised to see that Obi had dropped one of his ridiculously heavy dumbbells, “…You forget to chalk your hands or you just didn’t like the floor?” “Felt like all the strength left my arm…” his muscles had been aching since he’d gotten up that morning and felt out of breath, he hadn’t felt great the night before but he had hoped it would go away. “I think I’m gonna go lay down for a while.”

The woman got up from her seat and reached for his forehead, “You’re a little warm, you did sound a little raspy at breakfast too – you could have caught Vulcan’s chest infection.” His eyes seemed a little glazed over and he was swaying ever so slightly on his feet, “Come on, I’ll get you some medicine and let Lieutenant Hinawa know you’re not feeling great.” Obi went with her obediently, they passed by Iris and Tamaki, the two girls sympathetic at their Captain’s condition, they agreed to let Hinawa know so that Y/N could look after Obi. “Wow, you’re fading fast, Akitaru,” his pace was slowing and he had to stop to lean against the wall as a wave of dizziness overwhelmed him, “Easy… come on, we’re nearly there.” He practically fell onto the bed when they got there, he hadn’t felt this weak since last time he was ill – it was a rare occurrence but when he was hit he went down hard, “I want the mascots at my funeral, make sure Hinawa wears something normal… tell my girlfriend I love her.” “I love you too,” she ruffled his hair a little, “And you’re not going to die… it’s just a cold.” “Will you feed me soup and rub that gross stuff on my chest to help me breathe?” Obi caught her wrist and brought her down for a hug; who knew he would be such a baby?

Rekka:

Rekka was either too stupid to stop or too stubborn, Y/N wasn’t sure which and she exhaled loudly when the man hunched over to cough almost violently. He was trying to finish his morning laps despite being told he was too sick, he’d come down with a cough a few days before and thought he could burn it out through sheer willpower and prayer. “Rekka,” she called and began uncapping the bottle of water she had brought, “Oi! If you start running again I’ll kneecap you! Rekka!” He waved her off with a dumb grin and made it a few more paces before he fell onto his hands and knees. “Nuisance is gonna be a nuisance… what a nuisance.” Karim had come out after Burns had told him to fetch the moron on the running track – he figured that the Captain meant Rekka. “If he’s not listening to you, Y/N, I’ve got less of a chance.” “Leave it with me, I didn’t come all the way across Tokyo to watch him run; he’s such an inconsiderate man at times.” “He’s hot-blooded, probably burned right through his fever. Want me to freeze him?” Y/N looked at him with a raised eyebrow, he looked vaguely serious so she shook her head and wandered over to her fallen priest. Her hand stroked his back and she handed him the bottle, “You’re setting a bad example for the kids, you tell them to rest when they’re ill but you’re out here trying to literally fight a cold.” Rekka looked up at her, his expression forced as he tried to tell her he was fine but then he slumped into her arms, “Rekka!” He was out of breath and when she cupped his cheek to bring his head up a little he pressed into it with a mumble of her being cold; perhaps he hadn’t burned through his fever. “If you’re a good boy, I’ll make you something good to eat and even bring it to you in bed, how’s that sound?” “My stars…” it was a little mumble but he sounded somewhat happy for her offer. Foien Li: Foien was a sensible man, as soon as he had felt himself coming down with a cold he had signed himself off for a few days, he stayed in his room and tried a few home remedies. There was a day when he felt terrible, he hoped he could sleep it off and start to feel better… A knock on his door alerted him to a visitor and when it opened a little he smiled at Y/N peeking through at him, “You’ll get sick too.” “Then you can take care of me,” she placed a tray down on his desk, patiently waiting for him to sit himself up before handing him a mug of hot honey and lemon, “I brought you a couple of books to read, It can’t be any fun locked up here… Did I see you at the back of the Cathedral this morning?” “I wanted to attend prayers but I didn’t want to get anyone else sick,” Foien gave a sigh as she pressed her hand to his forehead, it felt cooler than his skin and he pressed into the touch, his eyes opened a little and Y/N gave him a bright smile – she always said he had the prettiest eyes. He was grateful to her for looking after him and even though he risked making her ill and having to confess later, the man leaned over to kiss her cheek, “What would I do without you, Y/N?” Y/N adjusted her habit a little to hide her flushed face, “You’d have to rely on Karim to look after you and he’d complain the whole time…” “It would give me more of an incentive to get better.” His answer made her giggle, the sound made him feel better already. Karim: “I told you to go to bed,” Y/N walked toward the back of the Cathedral where the Lieutenant was leaning his head on the pews in front of him, his slumped over form didn’t move even as she poked him in the shoulder. “Karim, come on, you should be resting…” He raised his head and she sighed at him, he looked all stuffy and his eyes were watery, it was amazing he was even able to walk there in the first place. He never missed her choir practice, it was sweet that he would come even though he had a headache and Foien’s cold from the week before. Y/N took his hand and pulled him up slowly, “Come on.” Karim followed her obediently, no smart comments or sarcasm escaping him as they made their way through the large hallway, they reached his room and she reached

into his pocket for his key, “Should get your own key.” “Imagine the gossip,” She followed him inside and helped him with his clothing, “Though they already talk about us like we’re committing a criminal act, couldn’t you just quit being a priest and then it might be better?” “How about you stop being a nun?” He knew she was kidding, they both took some odd joy out of upsetting the really pious followers of Sol with their relationship, “If you did that though I wouldn’t get to hear you sing anymore…” Karim laid down on top of his covers and coughed, he didn’t understand how he seemed to be worse than Foien was with this, the other Lieutenant had given it to him in the first place. “So sick of being sick.” Y/N pet his hair gently, “Only two repetitions? You must be ill,” Karim gave a half shrug and pulled weakly at his pillow, “Want me to get you anything?” “Just stay with me, Y/N…” Burns: She couldn’t figure out if he was running a fever or not, the Captain retained a large amount of heat at all times, Y/N gave a sigh and offered him an apologetic smile, “I never was a very good nurse, how do you actually feel?” He hadn’t complained about feeling ill but she doubted he would be too verbal about it, the fact that he was wearing his jacket properly and looked like he was cold was really her only clue. “It’s just a bug my kind Lieutenants have gifted me – I’m a little chilly but otherwise I’m sure I’ll survive. You don’t have to worry about me, Y/N” He wasn’t used to being coddled and Leonard felt somewhat pleased by her attention, “I’ll make sure to rest a little.” “It’s hard to imagine you would ever feel cold, you can stay here for a little while and rest, I’ll make you something to eat and you can use the phone to let your Company know. It’s nearly a full hour back home for you, besides, it’s getting late.” He had only come out because she had asked him to visit on his day off, if Y/N had known then she wouldn’t have. Y/N took his hand and gave it a squeeze, “Please, Leonard, let me look after you just this once?” She was looking at him so sincerely that he couldn’t find it in him to say no, the man gave in and nodded, “Just this once.” Konro: “Konro’s dying!” Hinata tugged on Y/N’s sleeve whilst Hikage nodded alongside her. “Konro’s not dying, he’s got a cold.” She shooed the girls away toward the door and told them to go play, it was hard enough looking after her boyfriend without the twins trying to help. Y/N heard him coughing from the hallway and she couldn’t help but wince a little at how painful it sounded – his lungs were already shot from the tephrosis. There was no doubt he was suffering but he was pretty stubborn in keeping it to himself. “I brought you something to hopefully help your throat,” she knelt beside his futon and helped him sit up, Konro gave her a weak smile and once more insisted he just needed to nap it off. “Drink this, then you can take a nap… it’ll probably help you sleep better too.” He wasn’t getting much rest as it was, the coughing would wake him up and then he wouldn’t be able to settle down again for a long while. Konro hated feeling like a burden, he felt like that most days and now he was knocked out by this… it was irritating how he could fight most things but a cold simply wasn’t one of them. “You know you’re gonna get sick too, right? It’s probably too late to stop it from happening now.” “If I get sick, will you look after me?” As if she really had to ask. The man reached out and gently cupped the back of her head before pulling her close and pressing his forehead to hers, “Course I will, I won’t be as good as it as you are but I won’t let that stop me.” Benimaru: Benimaru reverted into a small child when he got ill, he had ignored it for so long that, one day, every symptom hit him at once and the Captain went down. His eyes watered, he couldn’t hear out of his left ear, his throat hurt, his chest hurt, he was cold and there was nothing he could do about it now. He’d bundled himself up in a large blanket and huddled against his girlfriend as she had sat

minding her own business. Y/N had moved the blanket a little to peek under the hood he had made with it and glassy red eyes looked at her almost pleadingly. Benimaru wasn’t clingy. He especially didn’t come into the main room, wrapped in a blanket cocoon and nestle into her side like a sad, oversized toddler. “Good Luck moving him.” Konro sighed as he entered the room, he was fully aware of the Beni Bio-hazard Blanket, “I’ll get some medicine for him… you’d better just accept you’re not moving from there without him.” Y/N looked back down at her boyfriend and reached in to stroke his hair, “You can’t fight a cold, huh?” He wriggled a little closer to her and rested his head on her shoulder, content for her to pet his hair and when Konro returned with the medicine, he made her feed it to him; his excuse being that he was cold and trapped in the blanket. She figured he was just craving the attention and felt needy from being so poorly. For the rest of that day he communicated in differently toned whines, grunts and ‘tch’, the only time he left her side was when one of them needed to pee.

#shinmon benimaru #hinawa Takehisa #obi akitaru #rekka hoshimiya #foien li #karim flam #leonard burns #sagamiya konro #reader #sick #HC

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aomine-ryo · 4 years

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okii so..i’ve been having a bad case of allergies lately so um can i maybe request GOM with a sick gf that still tries to work/go to school etc. it can be either scenarios or headcanons:)) thank youuu💗💗

Hope you enjoy this!! And I hope you feel better soon xx 💕

Scenario: GOM with their sick s/o who still tries to come to school

Kise

When you woke up that morning you felt dazed; your head had a piercing pain and your throat was scratchy and sore. You headed off to school with a mask on despite feeling under the weather because your exams were around the corner and you had so many doubts that needed answers.

Upon seeing you enter class, Kise sprang up with excitement (as he usually would), but seeing your dreary eyes as well as your mask, his excited expression quickly turned into worry. “Y/N-cchi, are you okay?” The blonde asked with concern as he approached you.

“Yeah, I’m okay, just woke up feeling a bit under the weather,” you croaked, your throat somehow feeling worse than it did that morning as you walked over to your desk next to Kise.

As you put your things down, Kise suddenly placed a hand on your forehead, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you looked back at him for answers. “You’re hot!” Kise exclaimed, “And I’m not talking about the sexy way- though that’s true too.”

You giggled at Kise’s remarks as you took your seat at your desk. You assured him that you were alright, but he wasn’t having it.

“Go home Y/N-cchi! I’ll ask the teachers your questions and I’ll come over after school to give them to you,” Kise suggested, his concern making your heart melt.

“I’ll be okay, it’s sweet that you’d do that though,” you smiled at the pouty amber-eyed boy, immediately realising that he couldn’t see your smile in the first place because of the mask- which he joked about without hesitation.

“You’re such a dummy, Y/N-cchi,” Kise giggled, “But I’ll stick by your side all day to make sure you’re okay!”

You sighed, giving in to your boyfriend’s concerns, slightly glad because you loved having him around you. Kise stuck by that promise more or less, but he did wander off somewhere after school ended, and you assumed he headed off for his practice so you put on your backpack and began to leave the class, feeling as though your head was weighing you down. To your surprise, you ran into Kise in the courtyard. “Oh hi, I thought you had practice,” you said to him softly.

“I do, but I went there to tell Captain that I won’t be there today,” Kise replied as the two of you began to walk to the school gate together. “I’m gonna take my Y/N-cchi home and feed her my special soup and tuck her in bed!” Kise sang.

“You don’t need to do that Ryouta,” you spoke, glad that you were wearing a mask because you were sure that the smile you wore underneath was awfully dorky.

Without doubt, Kise walked you home, ignoring anything you had to say against it; he even carried your backpack for you. After feeding you the chicken soup he made, as though he was a mother feeding a baby, he tucked you into bed, just like he said he would.

“Aren’t my tucking skills amazing?” Kise stated proudly as he took a seat on the foot of your bed.

“They’re average,” you joked, just so you could watch him do that cute pout.

“Y/N-cchi that’s so mean!” Kise whined; it was his turn to be the baby now.

“You know I’m joking,” you giggled. “Thank you for doing this for me,” you spoke, forgetting the last time you felt this happy while being sick.

“Anything for you, Y/N-cchi,” Kise said, flashing you a smile. “You better not come to school tomorrow if you’re not in top form okay?” He said, his sweet voice quickly changing to a stern one.

“Alright,” you sighed, finding it difficult to keep your eyes open at this point.

Kise’s words began to drown out slowly and all you could hear was a cheerful noise. The blonde haired boy seemed to notice you drifting off, and he couldn’t help but grin- he thought you looked adorable. He stood up and placed a kiss on your forehead and whispered, “Hope you feel better soon Y/N-cchi, I love you.”

Midorima

“Y/N! Your Oha Asa today wasn’t good! You came last!” Midorima said frantically when you met him outside your house to head to school. However, upon seeing your pale and sickly face, the Oha Asa became the least of his worries. “You don’t look too well, Y/N,” he said softly.

“I’m just a bit,” you stopped to let out a cough, “sick.”

“Why are you going to school then?” Midorima asked, stopping in his tracks, ready to drag you back home at any moment.

“I need to help some teachers out- there’s some event happening soon,” you told him. “I promised that I’d help out.”

“I’m not letting you do that,” Midorima said sternly. “You’re going back home.”

“Shintaro, I made a promise- I have to go,” you said, refusing to let your slight sickness stop you from fulfilling a promise.

“Fine, then I’ll fill your place,” he shrugged, “you need to get some rest.”

“You can’t just fill my place, you’re not really the best artist out there,” you said, wishing that he’d just drop it and continue to walk.

“Well, Takao is rather good at art- I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. You can just send me a text with the details- from your bed.”

“But Shintaro—”

“You’re going home, come on,” Midorima stopped you, as he beckoned you to follow him back to your house. “Besides, I doubt you would’ve gotten too far because your Oha Asa today was awful,” he added as you began to walk back home with him.

“Could you apologise to Miss Anato for me?” you requested when you reached your doorstep once again.

“Of course. Take care of yourself okay? I might drop by after practice to check up on you,” he said, as serious as ever.

“You don’t need to do that, I’m not a child, Shintaro,” you told him, even though you knew he wouldn’t listen to you.

“You have your childish moments,” Midorima shrugged, making you smile.

You bid your goodbyes and you headed back inside, feeling guilty for skipping out on school. However the thought of Midorima taking care of things eased your mind a little, because you knew you could count on him.

When you awoke from your nap in the afternoon, you immediately reached out to check on your phone, as usual. You opened the texts that Midorima sent you and smiled. He had sent you pictures of him and Takao helping out Miss Anato and your worries about your workload seemed to fade away.

Just as you expected, Midorima made a stop by your house after his practice. He bought you some soup from his favourite restaurant as well as your lucky item for the next day because, “If you have your lucky item, you can’t get sick.”

Midorima stayed at your house for an hour or two, catching you up on your lessons as well as telling you how the event preparations went. Talking to him made you feel as though you weren’t sick in the first place. You felt happy and loved, and it was moments like those where you’re extra grateful to have him looking over you.

Aomine

When Aomine saw you sitting in class, he was confused. He didn’t expect you to come to school considering the fact that you didn’t seem well on the phone with him the night before. “Y/N, I thought you were sick,” Aomine said to you, without even greeting you.

“Oh hey. I’m alright,” you said hoarsely as you sniffled, which wasn’t very convincing to your statement.

“Yeah you totally sound alright,” Aomine said sarcastically. “I can’t believe you’d come to school.”

“Yeah well,” you croaked, before clearing your throat, “my attendance isn’t exactly the best since I’ve skipped a bunch of classes with someone.”

Aomine couldn’t help but grin as he thought of all the times the two of you skipped class up on the roof to do all kinds of things. He tried to ignore the thoughts as colour rose in his cheeks, “But still,” was the only argument he had.

Aomine spent the entire school day looking over you, feeling responsible for you having to come to school in the first place. The end of the school day had arrived and when he looked over to your desk, he saw that you had your head down.

He walked over to you and poked your arm, soon realising that you had dozed off. Aomine gave you a small shake, causing you to stir awake, “Y/N, it’s time to go home,” he said softly, but you felt too weak to move.

Aomine sighed and heaved you into his back, deciding to carry you home. Despite you being half asleep on his back, Aomine didn’t hesitate to lecture you the entire way home. “You shouldn’t have come, you should know better,” he said, all his words garnering only a hum from you, the smell of his cologne brought you so much comfort that you didn’t mind what he was saying.

Once you finally got home, Aomine plopped you down onto your bed and stretched, letting out a huge groan. “You’re a real handful sometimes, Y/N,” Aomine said as he began to take your shoes off and tuck you into bed. “You better get well soon because it’s very hard for me to not kiss you right now.”

“Thank you, Daiki. I love you,” you said in what was barely a whisper as you smiled at his remarks.

Aomine became flustered by the word of thanks, “No worries, you’re a handful, but you’re my handful, so I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he said, shrugging. Hearing that made you smile as you pulled your comforter closer to your body and before you knew it, you were out cold. Looking at your sleeping form, the blue eyed boy couldn’t help but smile. He knew that no matter what ill-advised situation you got yourself into, he would gladly help you. Plus it felt rather refreshing for him to be giving the lectures for once in his life.

Murasakibara

When Murasakibara saw you walking through the school gates with a mask on and looking sickly, his concerns were immediately shifted to you. “Y/N-chin, are you sick?” He asked, even though he knew that you were.

“Kind of,” you coughed, “it’s not a big deal.”

“You look awful,” he said bluntly, as he observed your lifeless eyes.

“Geez thanks, that’s what everyone wants to hear from their boyfriends,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“You know I didn’t mean it like that,” Murasakibara said, clicking his tongue. You tried to head to your class, but the purple haired boy immediately stopped you. “I don’t think you should be going to school like that.”

“But there’s so much work I need to do before midterms,” you told him, your voice breaking several times in between.

“Nope, I’m taking you home,” Murasakibara refused.

“But Atsushi—”

“You know I can easily just pick you up and take you there myself, so save me the trouble,” he said, cutting your arguments off. You let out a deep sigh and gave in, you knew that no matter what you said he’d just pick you up.

You turned around and Murasakibara began to follow you. “Don’t you have school?” you questioned, wondering why the large boy was by your side.

“Eh, I’d rather take care of you,” Murasakibara shrugged, fishing out a packet of crisps from his backpack.

When the two of you got back to your place, Murasakibara took out all the snacks that he knew you’d like and dumped them on your bed.

“They say that you should eat before taking any medicine, but all I have is snacks. I ordered some soup from this restaurant, they should come by soon,” Murasakibara informed.

“Where on earth did you find a place that delivers soup, especially at this time?” you questioned, slightly impressed.

“I have my ways,” he shrugged as he opened up a packet of sour candies that were your favourite, “Eat up.”

“This is healthy eating at its finest,” you joked, as the candies seemed to brighten up your mood in the slightest bit. About ten minutes later, the doorbell rang with the soup that Murasakibara had ordered. “Why’d you order two bowls? Are you sick too?” You inquired as he took the soup out and placed it carefully on your bedside table.

“No, I just like this soup,” he answered simply, “plus I don’t think I should be sharing soup with you.”

“Fair enough,” you responded, as you sipped on a spoonful of the steaming liquid. “Woah this is amazing,” you said, the feeling of the warm soup sliding down your sore throat making you feel ten times better.

The two of you chatted a bit while drinking the soup, and once you were done, Murasakibara cleared up all the wrappers from your bed and threw them out. He returned to his seat at the foot of your bed as you began to cover your shivering body with your comforter.

“Thank you for being there for me, Atsushi,” you said, unable to wipe the smile off of your face. “Though I do feel bad for making you miss school.”

“School is too boring,” he groaned at the thought of his studies, “Plus I’d be there for you no matter what anyways.”

“I love you,” you said softly as you felt your eyelids become heavier.

“I love you too, Y/N-chin,” the purple eyed boy said, a smile growing on his lips as he stood up to leave. He glanced at you once more with admiration in his eyes, wanting nothing but for you to be okay because you were one of the very few things that he truly cared for.

Akashi

When you told Akashi that you weren’t feeling well one night, he immediately knew that you were going to attempt to attend school the next day despite your illness. So he decided to drop by your house early so that you didn’t waste energy on getting ready in the morning. Akashi rand the doorbell and you answered the door, still in pyjamas, as Akashi had hoped.

“Akashi? You’re early,” you said, the morning light making your headache worse. “Come in, I’ll start getting ready.”

“There’s no need for that, Y/N,” Akashi said, accepting the invitation to come in. “I know you’re sick.”

“Huh? No, I-” your voice cracked and you immediately cleared your throat to recover, “I’m fine, I need to go to school.”

Akashi knew that you would argue if he tried to convince you otherwise so he said, “Fine, we’ll get a thermometer and if your temperature is normal, you can go to school. Deal?”

You knew that Akashi wouldn’t say something like that if he wasn’t sure he’d win, but your pride still took him on, wanting to be sure that you were truly ill. You grabbed a thermometer from the cabinet in the bathroom and sat on the couch in the living room with the device under your tongue.

After two minutes of waiting, Akashi took the thermometer out and checked the temperature, and his smile of victory said it all. “38 degrees Celsius- you’re staying at home,” he stated, the disappointed look on your face making him feel a bit bad. “Don’t worry, I’ll share all my notes with you. Plus I’ll come back after school and give you company, okay?” He said reassuringly, making you feel slightly better and you bid your goodbyes before dragging yourself back to bed, where you slept until the late afternoon.

When you finally stirred awake, you saw Akashi sitting at the foot of your bed, reading a book. He noticed your movement out of the corner of his eye and looked over with a smile, “Hey, you’re awake! Your mother let me in,” he clarified before you could think that he broke into your house. “I brought you some ramen from this really nice place,” he said, pointing at a paper bag that sat on your desk, and you smiled because he remembered that you didn’t like soup that much.

“Thank you,” you said, your voice still as weak as before.

“Of course,” Akashi smiled, glad that he could put a smile on your face too. You and Akashi chatted for hours. He told you about everything that happened in school that day, joking a bit here and there which brightened your mood as you ate the delicious ramen he bought.

You didn’t realise how much time had passed until you finally looked at your phone a few hours later. “Woah it’s late, you should probably go back home,” you informed him, though you wished he could stay for even longer.

Akashi sighed and stood up from his seat on your bed. “Okay, and if you don’t feel better tomorrow, you’ve got to go to the doctor alright?” He said, acting like he was your daddy dad.

“Okay, I will. Text me when you get home okay?” You told him as he gathered his things to leave.

Akashi hummed in agreement as he looked back at you lovingly. “Get better soon, Y/N. I love you.”

“I love you too,” you replied, giving him a gentle smile, just wishing that you could kiss him. “Thank you for coming here. It made me feel much better.”

“That’s good to hear,” he grinned, “You know I’d do anything for you.”

Kuroko

When you answered Kuroko’s knock on your door one morning with droopy eyes and a face mask on, he immediately began to worry. “Y/N-kun, you don’t look too good. Are you sick?”

You cleared your throat, “Yeah kind of,” you understated, feeling your head spin.

“I don’t think you should be going to school then.”

“I need to be preparing for the midterms,” you said, pausing to cough, “I have to go.”

“There’s plenty of time until then. You should go back in and rest,” Kuroko said, making up his mind about not letting you go to school like this.

“But Tetsu, what if the teacher says something important in class?” you frowned as you leaned against the door frame so that you don’t lose balance due to your spinning head.

“I’ll be sure to inform you about everything the teachers say,” Kuroko said reassuringly, “We can have a study date or something when you’re not sick.”

You sighed and complied with Kuroko’s advice, trusting him to tell you about anything important as you put your pyjamas back on and went to bed. It took you some time to fall back asleep because your head was pounding, but when you finally managed doze off, it was one of the deepest slumbers you ever had.

You woke up in the evening to the sound of the doorbell ringing through your empty house. You groaned and stretched a bit before slowly going toward the door, trying to fight back the headache (that seemed better than it was in the morning, but was still a pain). Upon opening the front door, you heard a small bark as the adorable little Nigou rushed towards you, standing on his hind legs as his other two paws were against your leg. “Hi Nigou!” You giggled as you picked him up.

Standing at your doorstep was a smiling Kuroko, who held a small stuffed toy as well as a paper bag in his hand. “Looks like Nigou missed you,” the blue eyed boy smiled sweetly as he lifted up the items in his hands, “I got you some tea and cake from your favourite cafe,” he said as he stepped into your house and closed the door behind him. “Plus I saw this teddy bear in the front window of a shop and I immediately thought that you’d find it cute so I got you that too.”

You felt your insides warm up at the gesture as the smile on your face grew even wider. “That’s so thoughtful, Tetsu! And yes that teddy bear is so cute,” you said softly before the two of you headed to the living room, where you sat on the couch with Nigou in your lap.

“How are you feeling?” Kuroko asked you as you sipped on the hot tea.

“My head hurts, but seeing you and Nigou again made me feel much better,” you told him weakly.

“I’m glad I could help,” Kuroko smiled as he looked at the dog that was dozing off on your lap, “He was lonely at practice today since you weren’t there,” he added, chuckling softly.

“Oh no, I wish I was there,” you pouted as you began to pet the dog gingerly. You and Kuroko continued to chat for a while as he told you about school and practice. Spending time with Kuroko somehow made your sickness lose a bit of it’s intensity as you talked into the night, laughing at every one of his jokes.

Your mother had come back home and invited Kuroko to stay for dinner (mostly because she thought that Nigou was the most precious thing in existence) though he politely declined. “I should really get going, it’s getting quite late,” Kuroko said, finally standing up from the couch.

You couldn’t help but pout as you picked Nigou up into your arms before walking to the front door with Kuroko. “Thanks for coming over. I had fun,” you said to him as he stepped back out onto your doorstep and took Nigou off your arms.

“Me too, I hope you feel better soon,” he wished before walking out, turning back to wave and say, “Goodbye, Y/N! I love you.”

You waved back with a smile, “Bye, I love you too,” you spoke, giggling as you watched Nigou scuttle behind your boyfriend. As you headed back inside, you were glad that he had visited because you couldn’t remember the last time you were that happy while being sick.

490 notes · View notes

kunstellation-one · 5 years

Note

I want Mark to push me down on the bed and fuck me to be honest. Can you write one where y/n purposely gets him all riled up (could be in front of the members or out in public) and then when they get home, he gets all rough and dom? 😂

• i have tried to write this like 8x and every time have accidentally closed the tab;;; 😭😭😭

• see this ask for a similar but more cliffhanger-y ending!~

• thank you for waiting this long! i recently went to the SuperM concert myself so my inspiration was definitely rekindled for this 🤭

[8:21am]

When you call your boyfriend the day before he returns from tour, you tell him, Baby, I have a gift for you.

Oh! Mark dithers. Y-you didn’t need to get me anything, babe. Coming back home to you is more than enough.

In the background you hear the rest of the SuperM members tease him relentlessly about how whipped he is for you, and you chuckle as you select a couple of choice photos from your camera roll and send them to him. Don’t look at these in front of the boys, okay?

Huh? What do you mean? He pulls the phone away from his ear, and you hum in satisfaction when you hear him gasp. Oh my g–… There’s a brief moment of hurried footsteps as he finds somewhere more private to really voice his thoughts. Breathlessly, he says in a low voice, You look really good in silk. I– wow. Jeez. You look really good.

That’s just a sneak peek. You keep your tone casual, like you’re discussing dinner plans instead of a night of debauchery, fingering the hem of the little slip of laced material falling loosely on your hips. The material feels like cold water on your skin, and you wonder how it’ll feel with Mark’s body pressed to yours. It’s been months since the last time you’d been with him; the mere thought makes you squirm in your spot on the bed. When will you be back?

Ah– I think, tomorrow night? But they want to go out to dinner as a group, so… are you going to come?

Hmm. Sure. But I can’t promise I’ll behave.

He groans. Since when do you ever?

Even after a year of dating, Mark still acts like a jumpy high school boy whenever you touch him. When you sit down to a nice private dinner at the SM building with the rest of the SuperM members, his cheeks light on fire when you reach down between bites to squeeze his knee, or trace little hearts in the palm of his hand. It’s always been endearing, and it makes it so fun to tease him.

“Were you bored without us, y/n?” Ten asks, picking a stray grape from his plate and furtively placing it on your plate. You roll your eyes, but eat the fruit anyway. “Yongie’s girlfriend was out of town, too.”

(Said girlfriend is currently sitting in Taeyong’s lap, whispering something into his ear. You’re sure most of it is NSFW content, and you have to hold back a cackle when she notices you staring and gives you a toothy grin. She enjoys messing with her man as much as you do, and you note the red tint of Taeyong’s cheeks when she sits back, looking quite satisfied with her work.)

“I was a little bored. See anything interesting while you were traveling the globe?” You reach down and tap Mark’s hand, looking for affection. He pats your hand reassuringly as he continues to chow down on a good mouthful of food, but keeps his hands civil. You, on the other hand, can barely restrain yourself from touching him.

“I bought you those tourist magnets you asked me for,” Taemin says, smiling. “They really do have a lot of them in America.”

“Oh, thank you.” Your hand strays to Mark’s knee and rests there. He stares at you, eyes wide, but you ignore it, addressing the older idol with a relaxed smile. “Yeah, there are shops dedicated solely to those sort of things. I think, Taeyong, you went to one in San Francisco, at Fisherman’s wharf?”

“What?” Taeyong looks a little dazed, eyes out of focus as his girlfriend feeds him another mouthful of soup. “Oh, yeah. It was great.”

Your hand slips higher up Mark’s leg, and he lets out a soft squawk of surprise. It almost makes you laugh, but you just rub your thumb along his thigh, taking a sip of water from your cup with your free hand.

Ten and Lucas giggle. Only Kai and Baekhyun remain unfazed, working steadily through their plates in relative silence.

You signal for Mark to give you his ear so you can tell him something, and he leans down to listen. “Baby, I want to play.”

“A game?” he mouth blankly, looking confused.

“No.” You tug him closer to you so no one else can hear, though you don’t really care. “I want to play with you.”

“Oh. Oh.” He flushes scarlet, and looks around nervously, like someone might overhear what kind of conversation the two of you are having. Meanwhile, Taeyong and his girlfriend are getting up from the table, the latter looking very pleased with herself, and the former looking just as red, if not redder, than your boyfriend beside you.

“We’re going to turn in early,” Taeyong explains, looking a little guilty for the white lie. And as she passes you on their way out, his girlfriend shoots you a conspiratory wink.

“See you later, Yongie,” Ten calls out, and next to him Lucas is overcome with the giggles.

“Stay safe,” Baekhyun says pointedly, mouth full of rice. “Don’t go out there unprotected.”

Mark nearly chokes on his food. Not just because of Baekhyun’s comment, but because you’ve taken his left hand and slipped it under your skirt, to feel the silken ribbons of the cute lingerie set you’ve put on just for him. He looks at you, eyes blazing, and mouths, Stop.

You let go of him immediately, because you’ve never seen him so serious about you teasing him. Fuck, that’s hot, you think, rubbing your thighs together and feeling the fray of lace against your skin.

“You okay, Mark?” one of the managers says worriedly from the other end of the table.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he says, and there’s a bite of steel in his voice that startles you. He wipes his mouth with a napkin, then stands. “I think I’m going to head back to the dorms too. I’m tired.”

He grabs your hand, and on your way out, Ten shoots you a sly grin and two thumbs up.

When you get back to the dorm, Mark shuts the door of his room behind you and rests his forehead against the wood with a deep sigh.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you ask, like you haven’t spent the whole night trying to get a rise out of him. “Tired?”

He turns to face you, jaw taut and fists clenched, eyes bright with anger. And you think, for one chilling moment that maybe you’ve gone too far teasing him in front of his members like you had.

And then he’s kissing you so fiercely it’s like he wants to consume you. Startled, it takes you a moment to react– and then you respond in kind, lacing your tongue with the taste of him, fire flooding your body at finally being able to feel his body solid against yours. It’s been so long that it feels like you’re relearning the feel of his fingers on your skin as he draws you tight into his embrace, every little brush and every little moment of contact a pinpoint of white hot heat.

But it’s over before you’re sure it’s real, and he’s pulling back, chest heaving. You’re breathless, too, and you stare up at him, stunned. He’s never been so forward, always asked you if he was doing it right, if you liked it, always asked before he started anything. This side of him is different and absolutely delicious.

You lick your lips, wanting more.

Mark sees the look in your eyes and shakes his head. “You’re insatiable,” he rasps, moving towards you. You take a step back, and then another, and then one more, until the back of your knees hit the bed. He studies your expression, eyes narrowed. “You missed me that much, huh? Couldn’t keep your hands to yourself for one second.”You feel like a child caught with your hand in the cookie jar. “I wanted to play when you got back,” you pout, staring up at him defiantly. “It’s been months, Mark. Touching myself isn’t nearly as good as having you here, too.”

He raises a brow. You try to kiss him, but he doesn’t let you, wraps both of his arms around you to hold you still. “You didn’t need to tease me in front of all the guys, babe. You could have just asked.”

“I’m asking now,” you whine, trying to wiggle out of his hold. God, you want to touch him so bad, feel his racing heartbeat beneath your fingertips and know that it’s all for you.

“Stop,” he tells you, eyes flashing.

You stop.

“That’s a good girl,” he exhales. “Behave, or you won’t have the fun you want tonight.”

“O– okay.”

Satisfied, he loosens his hold on you. And then his hands go lower, to the skirt riding up your thighs and the thigh-high stockings beneath them, laced neatly just like the silken panties you’d bought just for this night. He runs his hands over your body, like he’s also relearning every bit of you, brushing his fingers over the curve of your breasts, down the line of your spine and low between your hips, until you’re whimpering for him to really touch you, the aching heat between your legs pulsing with need.

“Use your words. What do you want?”

“Please fuck me,” you whisper. (“I’m on birth control,” you add, remembering Baekhyun’s earlier comment.)

“I’m the one calling the shots, babygirl.” He chuckles darkly, and you shiver in delight as he tugs your sweater over your head, leaving you standing in front of him in just your lingerie. He squeezes your ass, and groans appreciatively. “This is my gift, isn’t it? And I’m allowed to do whatever I want with it.”

You gulp. “Yes, please.”

Without another word he pushes you down onto the bed, slipping his hand beneath the waistband of your panties and pushing them aside so he can shove two fingers into your heat. When he finds your core sticky and dripping, he sighs in approval as he curls those fingers inside you, beckoning you to arch your body into his with a cry of surprise. His other hand slips into your bra to feel up your breasts, rolling his thumb over the sensitive nub as he seals his mouth to yours, swallowing up the moans of rapture escaping you.

Mark pulls away when you’re gasping for air, and murmurs, “As much as I like to hear these beautiful sounds from your lips, baby, there are other people here. Stay quiet, okay?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, pulling his hard length out of his pants. Looking over your shoulder, the sight makes you salivate, and you start to reach for him, but he pushes your hands away, flipping you over onto your stomach.“You can use that mouth of yours on me later. Right now, I’m going to fuck you.”

He hooks his fingers into the lace ribbons and rips the lingerie from your body, then pushes the head of his cock against your entrance. You groan, pushing your ass back against him; you’ve wanted– needed– this for so long that waiting any longer feels like agony. And then he bottoms out inside of you, filling you utterly and completely, and the world goes white for a moment.

“Fuck,” he grunts, hands settling on your waist. He draws back, almost pulling out entirely, and then slams his hips back into you. You grab at the pillows, muffling your noises of pleasure into its softness. Mark drives into you again, and again, and again, and a tense heat builds within your abdomen, suffusing your entire body with a tingling ecstasy. Every thrust pushes you deeper into the bed, which creaks so loudly it masks the tiny gasps you let out as he fucks you.

“When you sent me those photos, I was hard for hours,” he growls, and one of his hand goes between your bodies to rub at your clit, sending more waves of pleasure to bounce through your body. Sweat beats on your forehead and at the joining of your bodies. “Thinking about your body. About this. About you.”

“God, I fucking missed you,” you mewl, leaning your head back as he kisses along your neck. “You fuck me so good, baby, ah–”

“You can’t leave me alone when we’re out in public… do I have to put you in your place? You’re such a filthy little girl–” Mark punctuates each of those last three words with a slap on your ass, not hard enough to really sting, but hard enough to leave a mark, and you cry his name out, like a prayer, like a chant. He’s never been anywhere close to rough with you, though you’ve expressly stated that you have a preference for it, and this, this moment of heat and passion and more-than-ever-before, feels like heaven on earth.

“If you’re good more often, then I’ll reward you,” he breathes. “Just like this. Fucking your pretty little pussy raw–”

“I’ll be good, I’ll be better,” you wail.

His fingers continue to work on your clit, rubbing the pinpoint of pleasure until you’re writhing beneath him, alight with bliss.

“I’m– ah! Baby– I’m going to cum–”

One last swipe across your clit sends you over the edge. You don’t even bother muffling yourself in the pillow anymore, ride out the radiating euphoria, clenching tight around his cock until you’ve drawn out his climax, too, and his hips push flush against yours, and with a heavy groan, he fills you with his cum, hot, thick liquid sticky and creamy as it drips down the inside of your thighs.

The two of you lay there, spent, until the moment sinks in, and Mark pulls out. When you look back at him, he looks almost– embarrassed.

“What’s wrong, baby?” you coo, reaching out to pull him into your arms.

“Well, I– that was new,” he says, looking sheepish. “I just… It kind of just… came out of me. I was just so… mad that you kept teasing me. I wanted to be in control.”

You giggle, pressing a kiss to his sweaty forehead, pushing the hair back from his face. “Well, I enjoyed it. We should do that more often.”

He nods, then looks guiltily at the ripped panties on the floor. “But…”

“Buy me new ones, and we’re even.”

“Okay, I can do that. I’ll buy you a dozen more.”

“That’s… too many.”

“But I like them on you.”

“…fine.”

i… it’s been so long since i’ve written smut that i honestly don’t know whether or not i’m good at it or if i was ever good at it dfghjkl

1K notes · View notes

royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

Text

Title: Partners {6}***

OA Zidan/Zeeko Zaki x Reader

Warning: Cursing, Fluff, Angst, Talk of Sex Trafficking, Plot, NSFW, SMUT,

ALL STARS on The NSFW Meter, DO NOT READ AT WORK

Words: 7k

Summary: You’re a damn good FBI agent in your own right. It is definitely partly to do with how well you’ve been trained and partly to do with you not letting anything or anyone distract you. You have a six-year plan that you’re fast-tracking for four. After being transferred from your office in Tampa, you’ve been sent to New York, which you’ve labeled the “big leagues.” Your first day there, after being introduced to your new partner OA Zidan you realized you’ve moved out of the frying pan right into the pot of distraction. A year later and your growing attraction for your partner still hasn’t been snuffed out.

Note: This is a first for me writing about a TV show and interjecting into it. Let’s see how this goes. I hope you guys enjoy this. As always, thank you for reading.

If you enjoyed this please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

~~~~~~~~~~~

His hand gripped the nape of your neck and squeezed. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt you, but it was just enough for you to clench around him as a new gush of wetness eased his glide. Every time OA’s hips slapped against your ass, his grip would tighten then loosen as he retreated to repeat the action again and again. He knew what he was doing. This new status of your relationship was new, but he’d been paying attention to every single cue your body gave to tell him what you liked, didn’t like, and what drove you insane. When he slammed forward and rotated his hips, your reflex was to lurch forward away from him.

“Fuck,” you forcefully whispered.

“Did I hurt you?” His voice was filled with concern as he began to pull out. Gripping around him, you kept him where he was.

“No, just--.”

OA bent over your back, pressing his chest onto you before he kissed your ear.

“Can’t take it?”

His voice was so damn deep and seductive. Your belly did backflips as you turned your face to the side to look at him.

“You tell me. I thought I was taking it very well,” you countered. OA’s smile was wide before he pressed his lips to yours to passionately kiss you. Just as t, you were getting into it, he pulled his lips from you and kissed a trail down your spine.

Deciding to tease him, you winded your hips against him, eliciting a satisfied “ah” from him. Peeping back at him, he had his head dropped back with his eyes closed, enjoying the sensations your movement gave him. Slowly you began to move back and forth. You knew he was close. You’d paid close attention to the cues his body gave too. The veins bulging in his neck said he was really close. You sped up and forcefully crashed your ass onto him. It quickly turned into you chasing your release while trying to please him.

OA’s grip on your hips tightened, and you knew what was coming. He quickly pumped into you, sending goosebumps across your skin. Your moans got louder, and soon, you were calling his name louder and louder until your release took over. OA groaned and slammed into you with four staggered thrusts. That was when your knees gave out. OA dropped back onto the bed, taking you with him to cuddle up to your back.

“To think we almost missed out on this,” OA said before he kissed your shoulder blade.

You let his words sink in as you snuggled closer. You couldn’t get close enough.

“Was there a time when you almost--,” you paused, trying to find the word.

“Pushed you into an office or an alley and kissed you?”

You snorted. “I guess.”

“There were a few times. Do you remember the hostage case? We got the perp in integration, and you took the lead, I remember watching in the other room and the way you got into his head and flipped every single notion he had and reason he had to protect the other guy had my jaw dropped. Then when he sang like a canary, I couldn’t believe it. I went in after they’d taken him, and I was so close,” OA confessed.

“What stopped you?”

“The cameras.”

You busted out laughing with him joining in. Slowly it dawned on you what your reality was, and you got silent.

“Are you thinking about it?”

“About what?”

“You know what,” OA pressed as he kissed your neck.

He smelled so good you doubted you’d ever want to be too far from him. Even that thought had you rolling your eyes.

“Thinking about the fact that this is against every rule? Or thinking about the fact that if anyone finds out about this, then there will be consequences? Or thinking about--.”

OA rolled on top of you and pressed your hands above your head, stopping your words.

“I don’t care about the rules or the consequences.”

You didn’t know how he could even say that. He’d worked his ass off to get where he was today. He’d put up with an incredible amount of shit to be the agent he was. How could he be so ready for it to be for nothing? The way he stared at you said he saw the panic in you. Biting your bottom lip, you pushed against his hands, finding little to no resistance. You cupped his bearded jaw and brought his head to you and kissed him.

You got enveloped in the kiss and rolled onto him. You decided to focus on here and now with him. You wanted to enjoy him fully without any nagging thoughts of what reality held for you come Monday morning or even beyond. Neither of you was going to put voice to the things you knew about the dangers of you getting entangled.

You awoke to the soft sound of a sitar and the aroma of cinnamon, nutmeg, cardamom, and other spices that screamed comfort. As you stretched, you noted how sore your muscles were. You climbed out of bed and threw on your robe then walked toward the music. You had no idea what time it was, but it was still light outside. When you rounded the corner, there was OA in your kitchen in nothing but his boxer-briefs cooking up a storm.

It was a beautiful sight, one you were not accustomed to. He was the first man to grace your apartment, let alone your kitchen and bed. Slowly you let your eyes drink in every inch of his beautiful skin. He was perfect. You got lost in your thoughts and gawking over him that you didn’t realize he’d turned around and was doing some gawking of his own. OA cleared his throat loudly, bringing your eyes to his.

“Yeah, you’ve been caught.”

Embarrassment filled you as you covered your face. “No, don’t hide. Own what a pervert you are.”

You laughed loudly, then glared at him.

“Come on, the price for voyeurism is a dance.”

“Oh no, I can’t dance to this,” you protested.

“Lies. Remember when we all went to that Egyptian place, and everyone had a turn with dancing?”

You slapped yourself in the head because you did remember. You had the guts to get up and dance that night.

“You held your own. I remember those moves. Come on,” OA coaxed.

Rolling your eyes because you knew he would never let it go, you walked to him and took his outstretched hands then began moving your hips to the beat the best you could. As soon as you found your rhythm, the music picked up, and OA was leading you around the kitchen in a traditional and modern mix of an Egyptian dance. In no time, you got into it and tapped into your inner belly dancer. When OA pulled up behind you, you rolled your hips then circled them before you jerked them to the beat. The two of you dance around the kitchen together, having a great time. The song was a really good one; you couldn’t lie.

By the end of it, you and OA were laughing together while he hugged you to him.

“See, you’d fit right in. my aunts would love you.”

That sounded serious. Your eyes met, and both of you realized it then. He kissed your nose, then your forehead enhancing the intensity of the moment.

“It smells incredible. What’re you making?”

“Mm, lunch, kofta, or meat on a stick it’s a beef kabab, a red lentil soup, and Aish Baladi, which is a flatbread,” OA listed.

“Wow. You cooked all of this?”

“Yes. I can cook.”

“Wow. I had no idea. I thought in your culture it was all about finding a beautiful wife who could make all of this for you,” you teased. His adorable dimples broke out.

“Yeah. If you ask my umi, then yes, that is what a textbook good wife would be able to do. If you ask me, though, I’d like to spoil my woman.” He kissed your cheek and carried a trail to your neck.

“Oh, I bet you would.” a giggle escaped you as he nibbled your skin.

“Come on, gorgeous, let me feed you,” OA said as he walked away but not before he dropped a slap to your ass.

He gathered plates and utensils as you pried even more into the pots curiosity getting the better of you. When OA realized it, he ushered you away from the pots and put the dishes in your hands, prompting you to set the table that was in the kitchen by the window. For the next few minutes, you worked in silence, him finishing the details on lunch and you making the table presentable. It all felt so domestic and normal like it wasn’t strange that the two of you had just fallen into this situation. It felt like you’d been doing this the entire year.

OA served you filling your plate with kofta and Aish Baladi before he filled your soup bowl with lentil soup. The scents melded together so nicely that you could not wait to taste his handiwork.

“I’m so hungry.”

“I bet. What else do you expect after having sex on every inch of this place?”

Your jaw dropped at the call out. “It takes two to tango, thank you very much,” you countered. OA smiled widely. When he sat, you went for your utensils but stopped.

“We say prayer right?”

OA smiled, showcasing those enviable dimples again. “Ideally.”

“Okay, come on. Show me.”

You watched what he did and mirrored him exactly. With his hands held out palms up, he closed his eyes and said a quick prayer in Arabic that you did your best to repeat the look on his face said he was impressed. Once he was finished, you waited for him to continue. The way he looked at you had you ready to blush.

“After you,” he insisted. You took up your kofta and bit into it, moaning as the spices hit your taste buds.

“My goodness, this is really good.”

“My mother’s recipe.”

The two of you ate and joked together like you’d done this every since day since you’d met. He told you more about his family, which included his headstrong sisters, who he worried most about constantly. As he spoke about them, you could see how much he loved them and his entire family. Your mother told you that if you were going to settle down with anyone, make sure they loved their family above everything else. It was clear he loved them this much. He asked about your family, and you told him, finding it easier to open up to him now than it had been any time before.

It was as if you thought if he didn’t know too much about you, it would keep him at a distance. Like the line would somehow be crossed if you told him about your childhood and your friends back in Miami. It was ridiculous thinking about it now, especially since you’d jumped over that line in a way that could not be ignored. You liked this side of him. He looked perfect, sitting shirtless, eating his childhood favorites, and talking about the things that made him happy. Listening to him made you happy.

When both of you’d stuffed your bellies to damn near capacity, you found yourselves in the bathtub making out like a couple of horny teenagers who’d just discovered sex. When kissing got too hot, and both of you became too flustered, OA would showcase just how good he was with his hands. He massaged every inch of you, dissolving every knot in your body. With your back to his chest and you seated between his legs, he kissed your skin and whispered nothing but the sweetest words that a girl could easily get used to.

After a bath, you sat in the living room with the intention of watching something on TV. Those intentions quickly changed. Neither of you could keep your hands off of each other. Neither of you could go longer than five minutes without giggling or making some form of contact, whether it being eye, or physical. You felt like a schoolgirl who was head over heels with the popular guy in school that was showing her she meant the world to him.

For the tenth time you tried to focus on the TV and not his scent that refused to stay on his side of the couch or the sight of his colossal thighs spread next to you. his lap looked like the perfect seat and his face like the only throne you’d ever need.

“Fuck it,” OA grunted before he pounced you, to your delight.

In seconds you both were naked yet again with your arms wrapped around his neck, and his lips fastened to yours. He kissed you with meaning like you were the beginning and the end for him. You matched him emotion for emotion, desperation for desperation. You were practically obsessed with the way he tasted, and it hadn’t even been seventy-two hours yet. As he kissed you, your hand slowly trailed down his chest and torso, pressing every slope and dip to memory. If temptation and hedonism were a person, he would be it. In a matter of minutes, OA was nestled snugly in your heat, completely filling and stretching you.

His slow and deep thrusts brought goosebumps to your skin and sucked the oxygen right out of your lungs. The soft music in the background set the perfect tone for the sultry transference you were engaged in.

“I don’t think I can ever get enough of you,” OA groaned out as he thrust into you at the most torturous speed. You felt every single inch of him as he stretched you.

“Ever?”

“Ever. Uuugh, jeez!” OA rotated his hips, making you moan loudly as your back arched off the couch.

“Mmm, you drive me crazy, you know that,” OA panted before thrusting forward again stroking that part of you that instantly sparked your body to come alive in a hyperactive state of arousal, making you again arch your back. You reached out needing to touch him in some way, but with one of his hands, OA grabbed yours and pinned them to the back of the couch, trapping you.

You didn’t know how it was possible, but that one action made you want him even more than you already did. His thrust stayed at the same pace. He languidly stroked into you softly, commanding your body to do whatever he wanted. If he wanted it to overheat, all he had to do was rotate his hips to touch spots in you that you didn’t even know you had. If he wanted to steal your breath and have your soul leave your body, all he had to do was fill you to the hilt. The man knew what he was doing, and it showed in everything he did. His kisses were not kisses of an amateur. They were kisses of a grown man, a man who knew how to listen to and follow the cues of a woman’s body.

Every time you tried to move from his grip, OA stopped and waited for you to settle down. When you refused, you’d stare into his eyes, trying to convince him to let you go or speed up, but OA was in no mood to listen. His one goal seemed to be to drive you insane. OA stared down at you with his bottom lip hooked in his mouth and intense eyes penetrating you so profoundly you were sure he could see the contents of your soul. He retreated, leaving just a just the tip of his intrusion. You bucked against him, trying to get the friction you needed.

OA used his free hand to hold your waist, stopping your feeble attempts to use his body for your own pleasure, then stroke full speed ahead, sending your breasts jerking. Your gasp was loud, and the clench around him tight, so tight his groan was long. Using his weakened state against him, you pushed him to the side, flipping him to the couch. Before he regained control, you straddled, putting him right where you wanted him. You pressed your hands on his chest for brace as your body rolled through the pleasure.

“Not so strong now, huh?”

OA smiled through his pleasure, then licked his lips, tempting you more. “You found my weakness and took advantage,” he teased.

“And what weakness is that Special Agent Zidan?” You slowly rolled your hips and fought the urge to moan. He felt so good.

OA’s hands gently gripped your waist when you began taking control of his pleasure. What began as slow rolls of your hips turned into energetic circles that had no reason to them but to make him shout your name. Every so often, you slowed it down, never allowing him to predict your next move. With every roll and buck of your hips, OA’s jaw dropped more and more while his eyes rolled back further and further.

When you began bouncing on him, his curses began, but they remain strangled in his throat.

“I can’t hear you,” you teased, speeding up your bounce. Every time you dropped back onto him, you forcefully did it hard enough that a shiver rushed through you. OA’s hands moved from your waist to your hips to hold you. As soon as they squeezed, you stopped.

“Uugh, please don’t stop.”

“Keep your hands on the back of that couch, or I will leave you to finish this yourself,” you warned.

The look in his eyes screamed defiance, while the smirk on his lips said he liked this side of you. As he bit his bottom lip, he slowly removed his hands to grip the back of the couch. The way the cushion sunk underneath the pressure of his hand said he was holding it dangerously tight, showing you just how close he was to flipping you back over to show you just who was stronger.

OA slid his body a little lower, so his back was angled and neck tilted downward.

“Such a good boy,” you coaxed with a cocky smile as you began to bounce on him again only this time, starting from the beginning with slow teasing swirls of your hips. After circles, you rolled them in a figure eight; after that, you combined the two until you gradually sped up.

You loved the sounds he made. He was not shy about letting you know just how good you were making him feel. Every change you made, his back arched. Every time you clenched around him, his grip tightened, sending all the veins in his arms bulging.

“What is your weakness, Omar?”

The clench in his jaw said he liked the way you said his name. In truth, you liked the way it felt. Swirling your hips against him, you expected him to cave—he did not.

“Won’t tell me?”

OA bit his bottom lip and dropped his head back, giving you perfect access to his neck. Hovering over his chest, you licked across his Adam’s apple along his skin, collecting the droplets of sweat that littered his skin. Once at his neck, you bit the flesh and sucked it into your mouth. OA groaned again before he brought his head back down to capture your lips and claim them as his. From the beginning, the kiss was erotic and blazing hot. Your tongues danced together; when yours twisted around his, he sucked on yours controlling who had the power. You’d always suspected he was a tease, and he was showing you just how much of one he was. His kisses did what they always did, made you dizzy, and distracted, making you almost forget what you were trying to do—almost.

You quickly pulled away from him and went to his ear. “Nice try. My interrogation practices are undefeated,” you whispered before you gently nibbled his ear. You intended to slip away, but OA was quicker. He pulled you to him and kissed you stupid, stepping his game all the way up. You were so open for him that you didn’t care who took control.

“You forget who I am,” OA gruffly spoke with your faces mere centimeters from each other.

“And you seem to not know who I am,” you countered, clenching around him again. OA sucked in a sharp breath as his eyebrows knitted together. “Put them back,” you ordered drunk off the power you possessed. You knew if he genuinely wanted to, he could have flipped you onto the couch and had you screaming “fuck me” in the six languages you were conversational in.

OA groaned but didn’t obey right away; instead, he nudged his hips up, thrusting into you to remind you just how good he could make you feel. One thrust was more than tempting enough to give in, but you didn’t become who you were by caving at the first sign of pressure. OA’s smile was playful as he put his hands back onto the back of the couch.

Fully drunk off of the power you held, you got lost in the music playing and teased him mercilessly. OA’s eyes never left you and your body. He watched you as if you were the best show he’d ever seen. You knew what he wanted without him saying a word. When he wanted you to go fast, you went slower. When his eyes pleaded with you to bounce, you bucked. After a few minutes, he looked to be on the verge of taking what he wanted to hell with you giving it. You didn’t know if you were more excited at that prospect or afraid. As you sped, you locked eyes with him.

“What’s your weakness?”

He was close to cracking, you could tell, but instead of telling you, he remained silent. You braced your hands on his torso and wildly rode him determined to make him speak. OA’s moans tumbled from him one after the other. The setting sun shone through the window and bathed your skin in its glow, highlighting the sweat that decorated your bodies. Your own orgasm was quickly creeping up on you, and you weren’t sure who would crack first. Once you thought it, OA slid further down the couch until it was just his back on the seat, and that was when his hips rose to meet you in one quick thrust.

His thrust came one after the other until he was pummeling into you. As you panted, the whine in your voice got louder and louder until you were damn near breathless. With one hand, OA gripped your hip steadying you so he controlled your body and controlled just how deeply he delivered your pounding. His other hand sank into the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling your head back just enough to tell you that you were at his mercy now.

Any control either of you possessed before was gone. Both of you were moaning and grunting at the top of your lungs, not caring who heard or who had a problem with how loud you were. The pleasure you felt was all-consuming and maddening all at the same time. You frantically chased your release just as fiercely as OA chased his.

“You!” OA’s shout was sudden. “You’re my weakness, Y/N. You make me weak,” he confessed in a rush.

No words had ever held more power than those from him to you. You bucked against him in no coherent fashion, as if you were riding a mechanical bull. He met your movements with his own penetrating thrusts, which only propelled you more forcefully into the orgasmic cloud that was so close to you.

Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.

Ignoring the faint sound, you remained in the bubble of sensual pleasure the two of you were wrapped in. The knocking persisted and even got louder. Soon it was too loud to ignore; your body fell out of sync with his, and your movements staggered and clashed with his. OA’s frustration was evident with his loud grunt.

“Hold that thought,” you panted out, trying to catch your breath. You stood sliding off of his length. Glistening, it bobbed in the air between you, distracting you. OA brought his hand to it and slowly stroked himself.

“This thought?”

You smiled and fell for the trap. You slid back onto him, throwing your head back, relishing in the complicated mix of pleasure and a dull ache that only he could produce. You rocked back and forth several times, forgetting the knocks and ringing of the doorbell. You tried to focus only on him, and just when both of you were finding your synchronized stride, the doorbell obnoxiously rang back to back.

“Fuck!”

OA’s frustration over the interruption had you giggling. He shot you a warning look.

“I guarantee you won’t be laughing in a little while,” he promised before he pumped up into you, making you whimper. He didn’t stop with one stroke; he did it again and again. Just when you were going to hover over him, another knock came from the door.

Knock, knock, knock, knock.

Both you and OA kissed your teeth in annoyance. Sighing, you stood from him and swung your leg over him, ready to find your robe. When you bent to retrieve it, OA dropped a heavy-handed slap to your ass, which had you biting your bottom lip ready to leave whoever was at the door there for however long it took for you to get yours.

“Get rid of em’—quick,” OA instructed.

You smirked, “Oh, have plans, huh?”

With a smirk of his own, he nodded, “A few and they involve several of your body parts.”

You gasped and pressed your hand to your chest. “Agent Zidan!”

OA smiled and watched you tie the robe around you before you walked from him down the hall to the door. Forgetting to look at the video feed of your front door, you opened it with a lazy smile to see Kristen.

“Kristen!”

Like cold water, your sex induced haze dissipated, leaving you wide-eyed.

“I’ve been knocking and ringing for like three minutes. What’re you doing in there?”

You pulled the door closer behind you blocking her view. “What’s happening?”

“Nothing. What’s up?” You tied to look as calm as possible. “Why’re you here?”

Kristen studied you for a few moments, then looked to your attire, and her face lit up. “Do you have a guy in there?”

“What? No. It’s nothing. I was—resting,” you lied.

“With the screams and shouts, I heard that’s doubtful.”

You pinched your lips and tried to remain collected to not give anything away.

“What’s going on?”

“I’ve been trying to get in touch. Did you hear OA is okay?”

“Yeah. I saw the message briefly before I fell asleep. I’ve been trying to catch up on some sleep,” you expertly lied.

“Well, everyone’s been called to assemble at the JOC. We couldn’t reach you or OA for that matter. I said I’d come by and grab you,” Kristen informed.

“Wow, I haven’t heard from him. He’s gotta be resting after what he’s been through.”

Kristen nodded, accepting your guesses.

“Yeah. So do you wanna change?”

You grabbed the collar of the robe and nodded. “Yeah. I’m gonna grab a shower too. I’ll meet you at HQ,” you said.

“Sounds good. You should hurry, it’s Sunday, and it sounded urgent,” Kirsten finished.

“Got it! Thanks, Kristen.”

You smiled at her as she began walking away. You wanted to make sure she was actually leaving. When you were sure, you walked back into your apartment and locked the door. When you walked back into the living room, the first sight of OA still laying there with his member still out and so damn inviting had you forgetting Kristen’s words.

“You and I have very different definitions of quick,” OA teased. “Come here.” He stroked himself a few times, reigniting the flame within you that the impromptu visit had doused.

“God, you look so tempting.”

“Let me tempt you then,” OA coaxed. You whined and watched him stand and walk to you. Once before you, he easily lifted you into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist and moaned when you felt his giant hands grip your ass to hold you onto him.

“We gotta go, that was Kristen, we’ve been summoned,” you informed. OA didn’t look phased.

“They can wait a little longer,” he whispered before he sheathed himself in your soaping core.

Both of you released a satisfied sigh as if there was nowhere in the world, either of you would rather be. OA took the lead and moved your body as he wished. He began slowly stroking into you, using his lower half as a wave reaching depths inside of you that had you whimpering as you held him to you. When you whimpered, he mewled. When you clenched around him, he slammed into you, holding you steady so you felt every inch of him.

It didn’t take long for either of you to be at the precipice of your undoing. You felt the wall at your back, and that was when OA hammered into you with the speed of a roadrunner. In seconds you shouted out as your orgasm overtook you and pulled you so deep in the sea of gratifying pleasure that you didn’t care if you drowned in it. Long minutes passed with both of trying to catch your breath and regain your strength. Once you did, OA brought you both to the shower, where you washed each other, trying your best not to get lost in each other yet again.

After a shower, OA dressed and reluctantly left you. It took him several attempts to get through the door, thanks to his sticky fingers trying to get you back into the bed or on the couch or even against the wall. His will was strong, and you were finding you were so corruptible when it came to him. Once he was gone, it took you some time to come down from the thirteenth cloud you were on. You kept replaying the last near forty-eight hours and everything that happened and all that you felt. Needless to say, it was challenging to get your head out of the clouds and back into professional mode.

By the time you made it to the JOC, it was almost an hour and a half since Kristen had stopped by. You did your best to hammer into your head to act as if everything was the same, and nothing had changed. When you walked into the office, you politely smiled at everyone and greeted them as you made it to your desk.

“Y/N, wonderful you were able to join us,” Isobel shouted out, acknowledging your presence. “Any idea where OA is?”

“No, no clue.”

“Here, here, sorry. I’m here,” OA called out as he pushed through everyone to show his face. You kept your eyes forward, not confident you could keep the smile off your face.

“Glad that you’re feeling well enough to join us, OA,” Isobel began. “Are you sure you don’t need more time to rest and recuperate?”

“No. I’m feeling better than ever. Saturday was just what I needed.” OA replied.

You couldn’t help but smirk then. Pressing your lips together, you tried to stop the giggle that threatened to escape. You peeped over to him to see he was also smirking.

“All right. Great work with that bomb, OA. Next time you’re feeling like being the hero, don’t we’d rather have you here with us than watching over us from the great beyond,” Jubal said. You glanced at OA and gave him a stubborn look that was a warning for the next time he wanted to be an idiot. OA smiled and nodded.

Jubal walked to the front of the JOC, where all the screens were signaling he wanted everyone’s attention. “So normally we don’t do Sundays, but this is urgent. New Dawn Bringers, otherwise known as NDB, have been found to have a connection with a serious trafficking cult that the FBI has been trying to lock down, The Rose Vortex. SVU has been running an operation. They have one of their own inside as we speak,” Jubal informed. He walked to a computer and tapped Ian on the shoulder who brought visuals on the screens before you.

“As of twelve hours ago, she’s gone quiet. We’ve also heard chatter that leadership in NDB is coming to town, and that means they need to be entertained. We have the big bosses, and we want them all,” Jubal finished.

“Okay, sounds good. What’s our play?” Jubal pointed at Kristen, acknowledging her question.

“We have an inside man who says they are getting a new shipment of eh-em, women,” Jubal added.

“What’s our in?”

Isobel and Jubal looked at each other with your question. After looking at them for a few seconds, your alarm slowly rose.

“Uh, why are you guys looking at me?”

Isobel cleared her throat and stood from her partially seated position. “You’re our in,” she announced.

OA sat up in his seat. “How?” You caught the controlling tone in his voice.

“I’ve read your file, Y/N. In Miami, you went undercover with--,” Isobel began before you cut her off.

“The Mantiago Cartel, yeah. It was a week at a sketchy—sex—club,” you slowly finished catching on.

“Yes, a well-known club that serviced that cartel. You got in with the leader and were integral in taking him down. The plan is to get you in with that shipmen to get into the cult,” Isobel informed.

“Absofuckinglutly not!”

All eyes flew to OA. No one spoke, everyone was in too much shock, you included.

“Let’s talk in my office,” Isobel coolly replied as she took a few steps in that direction.

“It doesn’t matter if we talk here or there, the answer is still no,” OA declared.

“OA!”

When he looked at you, he saw the alarm in your eyes. He took a breath and rubbed his goatee around his lips down to his beard. You stood and walked ahead to Isobel’s office. You filed in first, then Isobel, Jubal, and finally, OA. Once the door closed, Isobel was the first to speak.

“Okay, Agent Zidan, take a breath,” she cautiously began as if giving him a nonverbal reminder of who he was. “The plan is simple; Y/N will infiltrate the shipment. Once at the cult location, you will locate the SVU agent and assess the situation. Your objective is to get the bosses into a compromising position for us to bring them in and nail their asses to the wall to give us the win,” Isobel explained.

“While bringing in whatever intel you can on NDB,” Jubal added.

“No. You want her to go undercover as a trafficked sex slave, and before you tell me don’t know what’ll happen, yeah, we do. These women are kidnapped, brutally and violently broken in, then drugged up to be pimped out. There is no way we’re letting Y/N in that,” OA finalized.

“OA, we understand, but she’s had experience with this. I am confident in her ability and skill to get in, find the agent and accomplish the objective,” Isobel reasoned. “Y/N, what do you say?”

You looked between Isobel and Jubal, who waited each with different expressions on their faces. You could feel the death rays from OA beside you. When you looked at him, the look was worse than you expected. He looked at you expectantly. He expected you to say no.

“I can do it. It’s not a big deal,” assured. OA rolled his eyes, clenched his jaw, then turned his back to you.

“All right, we’ll get you up to speed. Let me say this, as a woman I know what I am asking you, I know the danger and risk this will put you in but I am one-hundred percent sure that this is not more than you are capable of,” Isobel slid in with a warm smile before she walked out of the room.

Before you could say anything to him, OA was bolting out the door too. Jubal put the files in front of you. he looked as if he had a question to ask, but instead, he nodded and patted your shoulder. “We have you, Y/N,” he said before he walked out of the office.

The next two hours passed with you drilling yourself, trying to memorize everything in the files. With your head on the task at hand, it didn’t mean that you didn’t see OA every time he stalked past the room with the sourest expression on his face. You knew he was pissed, and it bothered you. His worry wasn’t unwarranted. He was right going undercover like this was dangerous, especially seeing how dangerous and racist the NDB was that danger was increasingly greater.

When you got up to stretch your legs, you saw him at his desk. As you approached, you tried to act as normal as possible. Once beside him, you inhaled his scent, one of his favorite things.

“Think you can quiz me?”

The look he gave you was an incredulous one that said you were crazy. “No, thanks.”

“OA, come on. Let’s talk,” you whispered. OA sighed and looked around him, accessing the number of eyes on you.

“Fine.”

“Conference room at the end of the hall,” you instructed before you walked off, making a pit stop in the office to gather the files.

Once inside the conference room, you paced the room, walking around the table. Almost eight minutes passed before the door opened, and OA walked in. He stood beside the door with you, standing across the room where the projector was. You stared at each other, neither wanting to concede. At the same time, you both walked around the conference table to meet in the middle. Once before each other, you sighed when you saw the tight clench of his jaw.

“Come on, Omar.”

OA groaned and went soft. “Of course, you’d use my name at a time like this.”

“You’re being unreasonable,” you continued.

“Me? Y/N, this is a sex trafficking ring, a racist one. This is too dangerous, and you know it.”

“No, you know what I know is I've done this before. Neither is the less evil. If this were a week ago, you wouldn’t be acting like this, and you know it,” you breached.

OA sighed again and dropped his head back. “Are you saying I’m acting worried for your safety because—,” he began.

“Am I wrong?”

OA didn’t speak for almost a minute before he sat on the conference table, leaving you to stand there waiting. He rubbed his face and mumbled something that you didn’t catch.

“Yes, you’re wrong. If it were a week ago, I’d still object. I would still feel the same way I do now, about the case and you.”

You stared at each other again. He reached out and pulled you between his legs to him. “There are so many ways this can go bad, so many ways you can get hurt, and I won’t be there. I’m—I’m scared.”

Your heart melted at his admission. OA scoffed.

“I’m fucking scared, and I don’t know what to do about it. I have no control here. If it’s you and me out there, then there is some control, with this--.”

You gripped his jaw and made him look at you. “I get it,” you whispered. OA sniffled and clenched his jaw in that control freak trying to keep his impulses internal way that you’d fallen in love with. You couldn’t help but kiss him even though it was a bad idea, especially considering where you were right now. OA kissed you back, letting it remain slow and tender.

You pressed your forehead to his then sighed as you pulled back to look at him. “We can’t let our fears get in the way of the job. You know that,” you whispered. OA nodded.

“I know, I know, but you’re more than the job now, Y/N. This is more, and no matter if we wanted to just leave things unspoken or not, it is still something. Friday night meant something, Saturday meant something, a few hours ago—that meant something. You’re not just my partner anymore,” OA finished.

He was right; the dynamics of your relationship had now changed. You’d crossed a line, and professional was not what this was anymore. It was something more. Something that neither of you had discussed for whatever reasons, but you both knew you would have to have the discussion. Now was not the time, though.

“OA, this is happening. I can’t be distracted in there. I can’t have you in the back of my head worrying that you’re not okay with this, that you don’t have my back in this.”

“You’re kidding, right? Y/N, I always have your back; I will always have your back. Yeah, I don’t agree with this op, and I wish that you would reconsider, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t have your back with it. Your back, my back, we got that.”

You nodded and dropped your forehead to his chest to release a relieved breath. You desperately needed to hear those words, and you hadn’t realized how desperately until now. OA kissed the top of your head.

“I’m going to do whatever necessary to make sure you come home to me. Whatever it takes,” OA finished.

You locked eyes with him seeing the vehemence of his declaration radiating from them.

For the next hour, OA drilled you on the contents of the folder and helped you do what he did best, get your head in the game.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!*** ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

@titty-teetee @bamakakechick @bellaamor88 @theblulife @sonjashuterbugjohnson @toniilaney @lo-cheu @chaneajoyyy @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @ajspencer1892 @dangerouslovefanfic @alyxkbrl @melaninhawtie @simplyyamberr@ashanti-notthesinger @afraiddreamingandloving @wakanda-inspired @chillavesss @drsunshine97 @cleothegoldfish @builtalongthewayside @theunsweetenedtruth @geeksareunique @aykanna @hanasamara @profilia @ollieveracity @autumn242 @missyperle @sup3rn0va13 @forbeautyandlife @kreolemami @designerwriterchic @theskullgoddess @maxcullen @disaster-rose @bugngiz @winchwm @kikimiyazaki @90sinspiredgirl @evemej @areubeingserved @caramara3 @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls @surmya1907 @minton131 @detectiveinchicago @momobaby227 @thevelvetseries @rawesome10105 @queenreignssupreme @behindthesehazeleyes27 @browngirldominion @asiaaisa77 @melanicia @jovanaprime

#partners fic #oa zidan #oa zidan fanfiction #fbi fanfiction #oa zidan x reader #oa zidan x you #oa zidan x black reader #black fanfiction #angst fanfic #oa zidan smut

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bellakitse · 4 years

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So I have been letting the current state of the world and my personal life get in the way of my writing, something that is very much therapy for my depression. In an effort to get out of my funk, and be able to write my longer fics, I have decided to do Flash Fiction Friday.

Every Friday I will strive to post a quick fic.

This first one is dedicated to my two best friends, my support system, and truly the great loves of my life. @insidious-intent (who made this beautiful gif above) and @beka1820 (who holds my hand through every story I write) I don’t know what I would do without you two in my life. Love you darlings.

So here we go, the first Stef’s Flash Fiction Friday.

All the Reasons

In the three years TK Strand has been dating Carlos Reyes, there are many things he’s come to adore about the man he loves more than he ever thought possible. He loves that Carlos is a ridiculously cheery morning person, where TK will hit the snooze button at least four times before he has to groan out of bed; Carlos gets up at least ten minutes before his alarm, whistling as he heads for the bathroom. If he didn’t love him so much, TK would smother him with his pillow for this.

He’s endlessly amused that Carlos likes to listen to Latin Trap music while he cooks, shaking his ass better than any stripper as he stirs sauces or chops up veggies.

TK appreciates that while horror movies freak him out, Carlos will still watch them just because TK enjoys them. He holds Carlos close as he hides his face in the crook of his neck as a thank you for putting up with his hobby.

He all but melts when it’s time for them to go to bed. For how big Carlos is, he insists on being the little spoon when they sleep. Carlos will arrange them to his liking until TK is practically on top of him, covering his body with his own. Only then will Carlos fall into a peaceful sleep, a soft smile adorning his face as he dreams.

TK loves that Carlos isn’t just his boyfriend, the man he loves, or his soulmate, though he’s certainly proven to be all those things. He’s also TK’s best friend. The one person besides his father that he can be at his worst with. When he’s all but broken from the memories of past mistakes. When temptation rears its ugly head, and his hand itches to reach for a bottle – beer, or worse yet, pills. It’s Carlos that is there, never judging, always ready to hold him as he cries and rages over an addiction that will never completely go away. It’s Carlos that dries his tears and tells him how proud he is of him. It’s Carlos that promises him he can overcome his shortcomings and that no matter what, he’ll be there standing next to him as TK fights his demons.

He loves how gentle and kind Carlos is, not just with him but also with his family, friends, and TK’s own father. He still remembers when, early in their dating, with his dad still in treatment how Carlos took it upon himself to care for both of them. Making hearty soups for Owen when he realized that both the Strand men weren’t fans of the kitchen, and he would make Owen shakes meant to help with detox from the chemo. More than once, TK found Carlos in their kitchen cooking and keeping his dad company until he arrived, not wanting his dad to be alone as the treatment took a harder toll on the man.

Most of all, he loves that he’s never once doubted that Carlos loves him just as fiercely as he loves him. He’s an all or nothing kind of guy; he knew from the moment they first kissed that if he opened his heart to Carlos, he would hand it over to the young cop completely. It’s why he resisted so hard at the beginning of their relationship to let it grow. Once he stopped fighting the gravitational pull that is Carlos Reyes’ entire being, loving him became as vital as breathing for TK. To be loved back by Carlos is a blessing he is thankful for every day.

“You’re a million miles away.”

TK startles out of his thoughts; he looks up from the couch to see Carlos leave their kitchen with a plate in his hand. He smiles as Carlos sits down next to him, kissing him on the cheek when he’s settled before he offers him a spoonful of the flan he’s been working on.

“Mmm,” TK moans at the rich flavor that fills his mouth. “It’s delicious.”

“I added coconut this time,” Carlos informs him, chuckling when he opens his mouth for another bite.

TK smiles around the mouthful, pleased by the treat Carlos is feeding him.

“So, what were you thinking about?” Carlos asks as he takes a bite for himself. “You seemed deep in thought.”

“I was thinking about all the reasons I love you,” he answers honestly, his heart tripping over itself at how Carlos’ expression softens in that way that is just for him.

“Are there a lot of reasons?” he asks, teasing in that loving way of his.

“I could fill a library with books on all the reasons I love you, sweetheart,” he tells him; the smile he gets in return is brighter and warmer than the Texan sun. “I want to be with you forever.”

“Really?” Carlos whispers, his voice filled with so much love for TK, it instantly makes him come to a decision. The reaction to it is so intense, it amazes him it’s taken him this long to realize. He gives it voice before doubt has a chance to seep through.

“We should get married,” he says, his conviction growing with each word. He’s never been more sure about anything in his life.

Carlos looks at him, brown eyes blown wide, the thankfully empty dish in his hand going slack. He continues to stare at TK for a moment, not seeming to realize that his silence is making TK’s heart skyrocket. Then, he gets up without saying a word, leaving TK behind as he heads for their bedroom.

TK blinks rapidly, not sure what’s just happened. His throat feels like it’s closing, and his blood roars in his ears, but he doesn’t have a chance to have a breakdown before Carlos comes back into the living room, breathing hard as he clutches something in his hand.

“Are you serious?” he asks in a rush. “Did you mean what you just said? Do you want to get married?”

TK looks at Carlos, taking in the tense of his shoulders, he looks like a spring ready to go off, but his eyes, his beautiful brown eyes that TK loves oh so much, look so full of hope and anticipation, TK forgets that his heart started to break just moments ago and nods.

Carlos exhales, his whole body going soft as he comes back to sit down next to TK.

“I bought it six months ago,” he says as he opens his hand to reveal a simple white band with a trio of diamonds encrusted in the middle. Carlos smiles as it makes TK gasp. “I have been trying to figure out the perfect way to ask. Leave it to you to beat me to the punch,” he says, tenderly amused.

“I didn’t do it perfectly,” he whispers now with regret as he looks at the beautiful ring in Carlos’ hand. “I just blurted it out, and I don’t even have a ring.”

Carlos shakes his head at him. “Baby, the fact that you feel the same way, that you want to marry me too, that makes it perfect,” he answers with a gentle smile as he wipes at the tears that have now slipped down TK’s cheeks. “Can I put it on you?” he asks, chuckling when TK nods rapidly in agreement.

He isn’t done slipping it on TK’s finger before TK pulls him into a hard kiss. They’re laughing and crying by the time they come up for air. He presses his forehead against Carlos’, taking in that beautiful smile of his. “I’m going to tell you every day all the reasons I love you.”

“How long is that going to take?” Carlos asks teasingly, his smile deepening as he brushes his lips against TK’s once more.

TK smiles back, his heart so full it feels like it will burst. “Only the rest of our lives.”

#911 lone star #tarlos #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic #tk x carlos #my writing #stef's flash fiction friday

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foreficfandom · 4 years

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The Arcana - Taking Care Of Sick MC

(Minor trigger warnings for: mentions of the in-game plague, fear of sickness, medicinal bugs)

– Asra –

Asra notices your cold the same time you do. Right when he wakes up next to you and sees your pallid complexion, he immediately knows you’ve got the bug.

He usually takes any chance he can get to sleep in, but not this time. First a gentle word of assurance, then quickly to the kitchen to heat up some water for a medicinal tea mix. As the water boils, he feels your neck and face - not too hot. Thankfully it’s not serious, just inconvenient.

Expect a lot of home remedies. Healing magic is too ostentatious for a simple cold, and it’s not a field Asra’s familiar with, anyways. He insists you eat some porridge, and drink lots of honeyed water. There’s lots of mugs of various teas, some awfully bitter but Asra insists you bear with it. You get a very pungent astringent balm on your chest for congestion, and he can’t hold in his giggles when you complain about how much it burns.

A lot of these remedies are trusted green witchery. Asra isn’t super skilled at making tinctures, but it’s enough to help a cold. Some he learned while studying magic, some he actually did invent.

He’s gonna manage the shop while you sleep. He lights lavender incense and mint candles, and Faust also stays upstairs to keep you company. Every hour he does a quick check to make sure you’re doing alright, or not sneaking out of bed. If he catches you, he bodyblocks you with a smirk until you sheepishly crawl back under the covers.

When there’s a lull in the shop, Asra hangs out at your bedside with a book, or some small chores he can quietly do with his hands. If you’re awake, the two of you chat a bit, mostly he does to save the strain on your throat.

His herb teas do make a difference, and by evening you feel better. Bit more porridge and a hot bath, and your fever’s waned a lot. Asra drags out the comfiest blankets to wrap you tightly. Unfortunately, you’re gonna have to sleep alone tonight while Asra takes the couch, just to be safe.

Once you feel better, you finally get kisses. The best reward for recovery.

– Julian –

You’re in luck. Julian may have been described as a ‘hack doctor’ by certain bitter individuals, but in truth he’s a trusted physician well versed in internal medicine. All he’s gotta do is see your watery eyes and red nose, and he’s on the case.

His clinic has some of the top-of-the-line medical technology, including a spiffy glass stick with a line of liquid mercury encased inside, which expands according to temperature. He has you sit on a patient bed and checks the inside of your throat, feels your face for lumps, uses a magnifying glass on your eyes and ears, lays his head on your chest to hear your lungs, all the things he does as a working doctor.

It can even be a bit weird to see Julian switch into ‘professional’ mode while handling you. He’s got impeccable bedside manners, keeping you cheery and comforted as he pokes and prods, but you’re not just some patient, he’s your boyfriend and it’s kinda odd (or sexy???) to be sitting in his clinic like this.

Nevertheless, he eventually diagnoses you with “a godly beauty and shining soul - oh, and also you have a cold”. He actually has you take up one of the beds in the clinic rather than go back upstairs to the apartment, and voila, an assistant registers you on the roster as an inpatient. There’s a reason for that, other than to make you blush - this way, he can prescribe medications.

You get four servings of this awful tar-like tincture made out of lungwort, crab’s eye, snail venom, and other obscure ingredients. Assistants come by to wipe your face with a cold towel, and check your vitals. They don’t acknowledge your relationship with Julian, only treating you with the gentlest of respect. Jokes would be inappropriate, and Julian’s clinic values professionalism. They care about your health more than embarrassing you.

The next morning, you wake to Dr. Julian announcing you nearing recovery already. But he doesn’t actually dismiss you until the fever’s completely gone, which means being stuck in the clinic for a couple of days and witnessing firsthand how strict Dr. Julian can be when it comes to his patients. At least it’s an excuse to see him more often. But you’re thankful to finally escape the role of the patient, and back to being Julian’s partner. Your bill? Several kisses!

– Nadia –

It’s just a cold, but Nadia immediately calls in the court doctor to perform a full physical. A hidden part of her normally-rational brain balks at any indication that someone she cares about might be sick. Blame the plague.

Luckily it’s just a minor fever, so you’re prescribed lots of liquids and bedrest, along with some immunity-boosting citrus lozenges. Within a few minutes the servants retrofit the bedroom to be warm and invitingly dim, place heated bedpans under your feet, light sheh smoke, and deliver a large tray to your bedside. A teapot of water is kept hot over a miniature coal burner.

Nadia takes as much of her free time to dote on you. Which, unfortunately, isn’t a whole lot of time, she can only help you drink some ginger tea and wipe your face before she’s due for Countess work. But she positions a guard at your door with instructions that they’re to wait on your every whim.

She spends the whole day thinking about you in the back of her mind, hoping you’re at least comfortable and healing properly. She finally gets a break for lunch, and rushes to the bedroom to check on you; you’re sitting up and reading, and she’s happy you’re well enough to enjoy yourself but you should be sleeping! Did the servants bring up your broth yet, have you taken your lozenges and tea, is your bedpan too cold, is the fire stoked too high

You try to calm her down through your stuffy nose; rarely do you see her so flustered. Nadia and you have lunch, and she’s eating the same thing you are because she’s not gonna eat delicious roasts while you’re stuck with broth.

Duties again call her away until evening (she had dinner with dignitaries), and she gets the servants to run you a bath with rosemary and mint to help open up your sinuses. The two of you spend the night in separate rooms which makes you whine and her tempted to abandon decades of royal dignity to join you.

But before too long, you’re all better and life resumes as normal. She promises to dote on you no matter the state of your health.

– Muriel –

He hears you cough and says bluntly, “you have a cough”. You’ve known him well enough to know that in Muriel-speak, that translates to “I recognize that sound, and I’m going to help you take care of it”. Living in the forest can be hazardous to one’s health, and Muriel has a lot of experience with colds, fevers, and infections.

First step is to stoke the fire to blazing temperatures, then heating lots of clean water for tea and soup. He wraps you in multiple furs until you’re a pile seated near the hearth. He props the door open to let in fresh air, which offsets the uncomfortably sauna-like heat of the fire. A bundle of lemongrass is thrown into the hearth to smoke a citrusy scent throughout the hut, soothing your headache.

Whenever Muriel would get sick, he’d just plow through the day and hope he can sweat out his fever through chopping wood. But you deserve better than that, so you’re let off of chores until you’re better. Muriel balances his duties with nursing you, which is a little tough ‘cause he’s gotten so used to having an extra set of hands. But it’s definitely worth it, if you’d get better.

He comes back from checking the rabbit traps to feed you a salty bone broth, and brews his green-magic tea brew (that he and Asra invented together) that has elderflower, willow bark, and ginseng. After lunch, he needs to leave again, so urges Inanna to cuddle you while he’s gone.

Finally, the chores are (largely) done, and he can finally afford his full attention to your pitiful, coughing self. He pulls out his rare ingredients - albatross feather, dried glowshroom - and charges them with magic before making it into a bitter powder he urges you to eat. Effectively a magical antibiotic, just in case of infection.

By night, you’re well enough to walk around and eat a bit more, and he’s feeling reassured. You spot one of his tiny smiles. But he pushes away your kisses until you’re for sure all cured.

A couple more days of his tried-and-true forest witchery, and there’s no more coughing. Finally the two of you get to cuddle in the furs like you usually do! It’s felt like ages, you say, and Muriel can’t help but agree.

– Portia –

First step upon hearing your raspy voice? Portia rushes to the kitchen (with Pepi hot on her heels because running time!! Yay!) to cook one of Mazelinka’s fever soups. Portia unfortunately lacks the ingredients to make Mazelinka’s more magical dishes, but there’s enough here for a nutrient-rich, hydrating broth, perfect for a cold.

She sends a pigeon to the castle to call in a sick day, so Portia can take her time in feeling up your forehead, heating water, and hauling out the thick winter quilts to sweat out your fever. You don’t look too bad, but it’s a shame Julian’s on a cruise right now. Otherwise, she’d drag him over right quick to do a check-up.

She mixes up a pot of ginger honey tea and leaves you with Pepi while she visits Mazelinka to request a remedy. Before too long, Portia comes back with a large jug of this thick, grassy-smelling stew with rice and various herbs. She insists on feeding you while you’re laid up in bed, which isn’t necessary but it makes her giggle so you indulge her. It tastes delicious, and you finish a large bowlful while Portia chats brightly and cracks jokes, making sure your spirits are high - the most important when it comes to recovery!

You’re not sure what was in Mazelinka’s soup (although you’re pretty sure the ‘rice’ was actually scuttlebug larvae) but your fever’s waned a lot by the time you wake up from your nap. Portia’s right there when you open your eyes, knitting and humming to herself. She sees you awake and can tell you’re feeling better, which makes her smile.

Dinner is the second half of Mazelinka’s soup, and then Portia fills the wooden tub for a nice, hot bath. Even your voice is less raspy now, so she and you chat while you soak. You’re so much healthier now that you don’t have to be in separate beds come nighttime, which truly is a blessing.

The first thing you do when you’re fully recovered is beg Mazelinka for her soup recipe. She relinquishes it to you, on the promise you won’t monetize it for your shop or anything, and you swear you won’t. Portia’s puppy-dog eyes probably wasn’t a necessary tactic, but appreciated none the same.

– Lucio –

You wake up feverish and Lucio’s first step is to arrange the things he’d like to do on his sick days. Hot mulled wine, a giant bath of citrus oil and lavender, and the best doctors of Vesuvia to wait on him you hand and foot. You have to stop him before he goes too far, which is easier said than done with a sore throat versus an ex-Count on a mission.

You turn down the huge platters of petit-fours, but Lucio insists on the doctors, who come in and do a thorough check-up per Lucio’s strict orders. But it doesn’t take a full physical to ensure that you’ve just got a simple cold, and all you really need is water and rest.

Lucio calls off all his plans so he can dedicate the entire day to keeping you company. He asks if you have a headache, if your sinuses are clogged, if your muscles are sore. You say yes to anything, he’ll try to call the doctors back and insist they give you some sort of medicinal relief. After lots of hemming and hawing, you get a walnut and cherry-based tincture to reduce inflammation, and also a peppermint lemon tea.

He looks at your meager medicines and asks if you’re sure you don’t want anything more. He could call his pets up if you want some cuddles? Maybe we can take one of those baths? What about some dessert, just because? Or we can call up the troubadour to play some music -

Lucio seems strangely contrite when you say that all you need is some rest. He’s very hesitant to leave you alone, so you kept feeling his gaze as you tried to nap. Finally, you asked what was his deal - you appreciate his attention, but something’s obviously wrong.

He’s not someone very in tune with his emotions, so it takes a while before you’re able to mine Lucio��s tremulous inner thoughts; when he was dying of the plague, Lucio hated being alone in his huge room, and ordered company whenever he could. There was no medicine that offered proper relief from his pains, and all he could do was wait and fear the inevitable.

Seeing you sick, even with just a simple fever, brought back those memories. He’d do anything to make sure you never experienced that. Especially knowing what you’ve already been through.

You gently hold Lucio’s hand and assure him that things like fevers and sickness, they’re part of the living experience and they’re made much better with good company. Actual, good company that offers love and support. Which you have, with Lucio here.

He’s always struck dumbfounded whenever you describe him with noble attributes. He feels like he’s the one recovering from … something, rather than you.

A few more nights, and you’re as fit as a fiddle. To celebrate, Lucio orders a large spread of your favorite foods to make up for all the bland mush you had to deal with. He’s back to being good ol’ Lucio, but you know that an inner part of him has changed for the better.

#the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel the arcana #portia devorak #count lucio #the arcana imagines #The Arcana Game #the arcana headcanons

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wonkasmissstarshine · 4 years

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Little Accidents {Willy Wonka x OC}

Based off this request from anonymous: Okay, I just needed to see if you where I really like your writings! Could you do a Willy x rose fluff where rose had a really bad accident after she fell down some stairs on accident nothing really bad happened but she was like to weak to get up so Willy got her everything they needed and he gave her cuddles and it’s just one big fluff pls 🥺

Summary: Rose accidentally takes a fall down some stairs, spraining her ankle (thankfully no serious injuries), and Willy makes sure she’s well taken care of.

Tagging: @holdmeicant @willymywonkers (My taglist from my series is different than my tagging list from my oneshot stuff so if you’re on my series taglist and want to be on my oneshot taglist, please let me know)

The snow was falling pretty lightly that day, but it was still enough that it covered the ground with a thin white sheet, and the ground was still slick beneath the feets of pedestrians. That didn’t put a damper on Willy and Rose’s plans for the day, though.

Priscilla invited them to have lunch with her. The Wonkas couldn’t refuse an invitation from their best friend, so they agreed. Now, maybe it was because Priscilla’s front steps were a little rickety, maybe it was because the light snowfall was making them slicker than usual, or maybe it’s because Rose didn’t pick the appropriate shoes for today.

The first time she slipped, was going up the stairs. Her foot jerked to the left, and her stomach flipped with fright. Willy was right behind her and noticed the slip of Rose’s foot. “Starshine, are you alright?” He asked.

“Don’t worry” Rose said. “I’m fine” She waved him off. “My foot just slipped a little and it spooked me”

“Okay” Willy said slowly. It was incredibly slippery and the last thing he wanted was for his wife to slip and fall down the stairs. He didn’t want her getting hurt. “Just be careful”

Rose turned to him and smiled. “I suppose you better take my hand and hold on tight. You know, so I don’t slip and fall?” She held out her open palm, wiggling her fingers.

“My lovely starshine,” Willy cooed to her. He grabbed her hand, holding it tightly in his hand. “You never need to ask twice when it comes to holding hands”

Together, very slowly and carefully, they made their way up the remaining steps. Priscilla came to fetch them when she heard the knock on the door. She greeted them both with affectionate hugs and then brought them inside the house, where a lovely meal was waiting for them.

******

Now, going up the steps, Rose only had a little slip of the feet, but at least she didn’t fall. It was going down the steps when she slipped again and this time, she took a tumble down the steps.

Luckily, she didn’t fall in a way where she would hit her head. She slipped in a way where she landed on her butt and slid down the stairs like a slide. It still hurt, as she felt each step jab into her back. Her ankle also throbbed, and Rose had no doubts that she sprained it.

Willy was still inside Priscilla’s house when Rose slipped and fell. It was when he heard her panicked shriek that he came bursting through the door. When he saw her on the ground, wincing in pain and grasping at her ankle, that’s when he went into his own little panic.

“Starshine, you’re hurt!” Willy stated, frantic with worry. He rushed down the steps, nearly slipping and falling himself. He kneeled beside her and grasped her face in his hands. He gazed over her face, checking for any knicks, cuts, bruises, or the smallest drop of blood. The only thing he could see on her face were the tears falling from her eyes.

“It’s okay. I’m here. Now, tell me where it hurts”

“My ankle. I think I sprained it” Rose managed to say. “And I hit my back along the steps”

Priscilla, having heard what happened from inside, joined the two of them with water and ibuprofen in hand. “Here you go, Rose” She said, dropping the tablet into her friend’s hand. “That should help relieve the pain, at least until you get home”

Rose managed to give her an appreciative smile before popping the pill into her mouth, and making it go down with the glass of water Priscilla had provided. “Do you think you can get up and walk?” Priscilla wondered.

“I can carry her” Willy decided.

Rose shook her head. “No, cocoa bean. It’s too slippery. What if you end up falling?”

“The elevator is right there, Rose, and then when we get back to the factory, it’ll be a short walk back to our house” Carefully, Willy scooped Rose into his arms and lifted her off the ground. Rose held onto him tightly, the warmth radiating from Willy already making her feel better. “It’ll be alright my beautiful and bright starshine. I’ll take good care of you when we get home, I promise”

******

“We’re home now, starshine” Willy announced to Rose when they walked in through the front door. “Let’s get you into bed, and then I’ll make you some soup”

Rose hummed in approval. “That would be nice, cocoa bean. Thank you”

They made it to the bedroom. Willy placed Rose into the bed so that she was sitting on it, legs dangling off the side. He was treating her as if she was a fragile box of glass. But to him, when she was hurt like this, she was, and he didn’t want her hurt any further. “Let’s get your shoes off”

“Just be careful of my sprained ankle” Rose warned him.

“I will, I promise” Willy first took off the shoe that was on her uninjured foot. Once that shoe was off, it came time to take the other one off. Willy tried taking it off Rose as slowly and carefully as he could. Whenever he saw Rose wince or make a noise, he would stop. Then, he would make sure that she was okay before continuing the process of removing her shoe.

Both shoes were now off Rose’s feet. She tried swinging her legs over onto the bed, but Willy stopped her. “Don’t lay down just yet” Willy told her. He went over to the closet, grabbing a few extra pillows and a thick blanket. He went back over to the bed, items in hand. He placed a few pillows against the headboard, and then he placed a couple more at the foot of the bed.

“Okay, starshine. You can lay down now” With Willy’s help, Rose positioned herself onto the bed so that her back was against the headboard pillows and her ankle was elevated on the pillows at the foot of the bed. Once she was comfortable, Willy placed the thick blanket over her. “Are you comfy enough?” Willy asked.

“I am, cocoa bean” Rose nodded.

Willy smiled. “Good” He leaned down and gave Rose a soft kiss on the forehead. “I’ll go make you some soup”

******

Willy carried some chicken noodle soup on a tray, and he brought it into the bedroom. Rose sat up a bit straighter when she saw him, groaning a bit from her aching back.

“Please, don’t over exert yourself” Willy pleaded with her. He sat beside her on the edge of the bed, placing the soup down on the bedside table. “I don’t want you hurting anymore than you already are”

“That soup smells really good” Rose mentioned.

“I hope it tastes as good as it smells. I’m not used to making anything that isn’t candy or chocolate” Willy grabbed the spoon and dipped it into the soup, capturing broth, noodles, and chicken into the piece of silverware. He placed his other hand under the spoon to stop any drops from splashing to the floor. Then, he blew on the soup before bringing it up to Rose’s lips.

“Open up, starshine” He instructed her. Rose’s lips parted, allowing Willy to push the spoon past her lips and into her mouth. Rose swallowed the spoonful of soup. She moaned at the feeling of the warm broth travelling down her esophagus and into her stomach.

“That tastes absolutely wonderful, cocoa bean” Rose told him.

“Thank you” Willy smiled. He continued to feed her the soup until there was nothing left in the bowl. He picked up the tray with the empty bowl and dirtied spoon on it to take it into the kitchen.

“Willy” Rose said his name, reaching out to gently grab his arm.

“What is it?” Willy asked softly.

“The dirty dishes can wait. I just want you to cuddle with me right now”

“But, starshine, you’re hurt and I--”

“Cocoa bean, you could never do anything to hurt me. I’m just asking you to cuddle with me. Nothing else. The cuddles will make me feel better”

“If that’s what you want” Willy gave in to her wishes. He walked around to the other side of the bed. He climbed into the bed. Willy wrapped his arms around her in a way that he wouldn’t cause her discomfort or pain. With his arms wrapped around her, Rose also wrapped an arm around and let her head rest on his chest.

“Better, starshine?”

“Everything always feels better as long as I’m in your arms” Rose tilted her head up so that she was looking up at Willy. His head was already peering down, looking at her. “You know what else helps me feel better?”

Willy smiled and giggled. “What would that be?”

“Your soft lips against mine” Rose reached up and cupped Willy’s face. “Will you kiss me?”

Willy cupped Rose’s face in return. “You never have to ask me twice, starshine”

Their lips met in a slow, loving, soft and gentle kiss. Willy’s kiss made Rose forget about every ache and pain that she had at the moment. His kiss was like a medicine that could treat every injury or illness. His kiss gave her a rush of euphoria that could heal anything and everything.

Once the kiss ended, Willy nuzzled his face against Rose’s, closing his eyes, savouring her warmth. “I love you, Rose”

Rose smiled and closed her eyes, content with the moment before her. “I love you too, Willy”

#willy wonka x oc #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka #rose bucket #my oc #rose and willy #🍫chocolate flowers💐

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willowistic22 · 4 years

Note

RedFinch sickfic 🥺?

The redfinch requests are fueling my serotonin you guys don’t even understand!!!! a very fluffy fic in my opinion and i quite like it. A few curse words but nothing too serious yknow. Anyways, i hope whoever’s reading this enjoys!

Requests are still opened by the way! I have three more I got to write but I’d be happy taking more, though with a hectic school schedule it will take some time!

He wraps himself in a big knitted blanket and lie in bed with minimal movements. A tissue box placed on the floor next to his bed with crumpled up tissues scattered around the floor along with it. Bedroom lights dimmed to accommodate his half-consciousness, not exactly sleepy but can’t stay awake either.

Albert has his eyes fully closed but his mind on full swing. He’d much rather sleep through his discomfort, but the stuffy nose and headache makes it hard. His breathing is loud with so much liquid blocking his nostrils which makes it hard for Albert to breathe, another reason why it’s difficult for him to sleep.

Though, he longs for sleep to envelop him. He was rustling under his blanket all night. Getting the flu isn’t an end of the world thing, though he knows it can get serious if it’s not treated right after getting millions of lectures from his mom, but Albert still think of it as a huge inconvenience. Sure, he got the chance to ditch his classes, but he’d much enjoy it if the reason behind it was something other than calling in sick.

Al groans, furiously opening his eyes and rolling from his side to lie on his back. He stares at the ceiling, placing both hands on his stomach above the blanket.

He really should be doing something. So far, he’s woken up early as per usual to get to his campus, thinking his flu was cured after taking some medicine before bed. As it turned out, it didn’t, so he had called in sick and barely moved out of his covers. He was able to drag himself to shower, which only took about two hours of convincing himself then he props himself back on his bed with clean clothes.

Albert wants to ask one of his classmates what he missed from today’s lecture, but the energy to even reach to his phone is non existence. And its literally placed just across his tiny bedroom on the desk. Al could use some food since he hasn’t eaten anything today, but he has no appetite. There doesn’t seem to be any source of entertainment that would do good for him either so he’s left in his boredom.

He exhales out of his mouth full of desperation, defeating the pointless weight on his eyelids. Al’s brain is desperately screaming at him to get out of bed and walk to the kitchen. Albert’s stomach would be very thankful to be given a slice of bread and some water. He just needs to muster up the energy to push through his exhaustion first.

“YO ALBO!”

His bedroom door swung violently from a kick, the sound hitting the wall caused him to jump. As if the pain Albert’s head is feeling isn’t enough.

Al’s head half sits up to see who decided to bother him with a sniffle, causing even more pain to his head. The light coming from the other room seems so bright, he can only see two silhouettes of people standing in the doorway.

“How’re you feelin’ there?” A voice, he recognize to be his roommate Race, asked. Of course it’s Race who busts down his door. Why did he thought it’d be anyone else?

“Like shit!” Al answered with a nasally voice and another sniffle following his words.

“Well, you sure look like one!” Race replied, approaching Al on the bed. He turns back towards the doorway, gazing back at the other figure he’s with, “Your boyfriend’s here to take care of you. So don’t worry about me busting down your door again like that”

Race walks away with a bounce to his steps, leaving Albert and his visitor to have the room all to themselves.

Albert flops his head back to the pillow with a groan and a sniffle, propping his arm on top of his eyes to block out the bright light. With the little strength he has left in him, he voices out a nasally greet, “Hi, Finch”

The distant light coming from the doorway slowly fades away till the door can be heard clicking shut. The next thing he notices is the side of his mattress slowly dipping from the extra weight on the edge.

“Hi, Al” Finch greets back gently, pulling down his arm away from his eyes. Albert can now clearly see the smile on Finch’s face. The sight of the blond picked his spirit up enough to get the grumpy redhead to smile back.

He puts the back of his hand on top of Albert’s forehead and asks, “How are you feeling? Other than shit”

Albert chuckles and sniffles out, “My head hurts, I can’t breathe through my nose, and I’m hungry but can’t bring my ass to the kitchen”

Finch giggles through his smile, retracting his hand and turning to view the rest of Albert’s room. The floor to be exact, “And you should really start throwing your trash away...”

“Yes, that. I also ditched all my classes of the day, so that’s another problem on my plate” Albert said, slightly unwrapping himself out of his knitted blanket, “And I can’t, for the life of me, sleep but can’t stay awake either because I’m actually sleepy”

He sees his boyfriend reach towards the floor, but can’t clearly see what he’s aiming for. He can hear plastic rustling before Finch sits up straight again, now presenting Albert a bowl-shaped food container, “I made you some cream soup. It’s still warm and it won’t require a lot of chewing”

Albert smiles at the idea, sniffling his nose out a bit as his hazel eyes twinkle at Finch reaching back down. He could only assume that he’s getting something else.

“Since you said you lost your appetite, I suspected you aren’t keeping yourself hydrated either so I prepared a water bottle” Putting the water bottle next to the cream soup on the bed. Finch pulls something else up, a small blue container with a bright green lid, “And also some vaporub to save your nose and headache!”

Albert is beyond thankful to see Finch preparing all of this just for him. He really does not have the energy to do it himself.

“I’ll get your laptop so we can binge something boring till you fall asleep” Finch ended his note.

Albert smiles weakly at him, but the adoration was very much present. He hums out, “What did I do to deserve you?”

“Nothing. Which is why you owe me big time for doing this!” Finch joked with a little giggle. It made Al roll his eyes with a chuckle.

Finch helps prop a pillow against the wall. Al’s head painfully pounds as he makes the efforts to sit upright, but any sort of comfort they can spare goes a long way. Finch gives him the bowl of soup with a spoon while he does a bit of cleaning. Albert can’t help but feel guilty for making his boyfriend do this. He’s already doing a lot by making time to visit and preparing a homemade cream soup plus other things to nurse him back to health, and he just got the flu! Finch just shrugs him off, saying that he’s more than happy to help.

After throwing away all the dirty tissues, he gets in bed besides Albert with his laptop in hand. Finch notes the knitted blanket he’s using, “Didn’t know you like knitted blankets”

“My mother made this for me when I had my first stay at a hospital” Albert explained after taking a spoonful of cream soup. He puts down the spoon and sniffles out, “I don’t remember why I had to stay overnight but I remember I was around ten”

Finch smiles at the short story before opening up the laptop and Albert continues eating his soup. Finch doesn’t need to worry about eating, he already had a sandwich before heading over here.

Not even thirty minutes into the movie they’re watching, and Al is already declaring his stomach is full. He ate so little that it looked as if he didn’t even bother touching it.

“Al, you haven’t eaten anything all day!” Finch countered.

“I seriously can’t eat right now. I’m sorry” Albert said. He only apologized because he knows Finch had personally made this for him.

“Please, just take your time finishing it” Finch begged, “I’ll feed you myself if I have to!”

Albert kept arguing that he can’t keep going, so Finch really did feed him. Placing the laptop on Albert’s lap and taking over the spoon to force down one meal down his stomach.

An hour or so through the movie, Albert was able to finish the soup. It wasn’t that his stomach was full, he just didn’t have the strength to finish it on his own. With the help from Finch, he was able to make himself eat something.

Finch helps him apply some vaporub on his chest, sliding his hand under his shirt. Albert lazily placed his head on Finch’s shoulder while he did it, smiling full of contentment. He tries to reach up for a kiss, but Finch pushes him away with a smile.

“Slow down! We haven’t even held hands yet!” Finch joked, lightly pushing Al back against the wall he’s leaning on, “And there’s no way I’m kissing you while you’re sick”

Albert laughs with a sniffle following, “We can be sick together!”

“And leave Race to take care of us? No!”

So they settle back in the comforts of each other, watching various movies under the warm covers of Alberts knitted blanket. Well, Albert moves his position to lie down completely on the bed and wrap an arm around Finch’s waist as sleep slowly overcomes his senses. Finch stays upright while holding the laptop, but the movie is now long forgotten as he strokes Albert’s hair and watches him drift to sleep.

He looked terrible when Finch first arrived. To see him now sleeping peacefully by his side, a heavenly feeling wraps Finch’s heart. What a privilege it is to be able to cradle Albert in his arms and help him get better. As he unconsciously tightens his grip around Finch’s waist, he laughs seeing the act unfold.

BANG!

The bedroom door slammed opened with a powerful kick, sending both Albert and Finch to jump out of their little serenity. Finch keeps his arms on Albert as the pounding pain in his head appears once again. His eyes squints at the bright light coming from the door.

“What’s up guys!” Racetrack’s loud voice echoed through Albert’s head, adding even more to the pain. And not to mention to new pain in his ass with his presence. Though, neither of them are entirely surprised.

“Race... Please go away...” Albert weakly whined, slipping a hand under his pillow as he slowly lies back down.

“What? Come on! I’m bored!” Race replied, he walks over to the bed in the corner with his signature grin, “The more the merrier, Al!”

Before he could sit on the bed, Finch took the initiative to stand up and show Race to the door. Slamming it shut and locking it while he’s at it. He returns to his spot on the bed, Albert instantly wrapping his arm around his waist again.

Finch notices the little pout on his face as he tries to catch more sleep. He laughs and threads his fingers through his hair, “Should’ve locked that door sooner. Sorry”

“It’s fine” Albert said, barely audible since his face is half buried in his pillow. He opens one eye at Finch and voices out whatever he can without needing to move, “Lie down with me? We can take a little nap”

Finch chuckles at the offer and proceeds to follow his orders. He gets comfortable under the blanket, facing his boyfriend to wrap his own arms around him. Albert’s head is placed on the crook of his neck, tickling Finch a little with his hair as he adjust to get comfortable.

They get comfortable in each others embrace after a few moments of adjusting. Chests rising and falling on their own slow pace. Albert already on his way to dreamland whilst Finch still has the small energy to pet his hair. Though as the seconds passes by, his eyelids begin to get heavier and heavier till sleep finally envelops him.

#newsies #drabble requests #redfinch #redfinch newsies #albert dasilva #finch cortez #albert newsies #finch newsies

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kurowrites · 4 years

Text

Snow - Chapter 11

Entire fic. AO3.

I wrote this in between slaving over my final report today, and the final report is not yet finished but this is. I hope y'all are grateful.

A.k.a. more trauma incoming.

---

“Wangji! Wangji, wait for me! Hey! Wangji!”

Wei Ying tries to catch up with the boy, but Wangji is fast. Only when Wei Ying stumbles over a snowbank and nearly falls on his face does Wangji turn around and glare at Wei Ying.

Yes, yes, he knows. No running. No shouting. Wangji is prickly about things like that.

He finally catches up to Wangji, wrapping his arms around the sleeve of Wangji’s jacket in an effort not to slip and stumble again. His thin shoes aren’t made for ice and snow.

To his credit, Wangji doesn’t pull away, and he also doesn’t scrunch up his nose. He’s always good like that. He doesn’t really like Wei Ying, but he also doesn’t keep him at a distance, doesn’t treat him like the dirty, smelly street rat that Wei Ying really is. Wei Ying is trying to keep clean and orderly, he really is, but if you don’t have regular access to a bathroom and laundry facilities, you get smelly quick. He’s learned that by now.

But Wangji has never, ever made him feel bad about it, even when he criticises everything else. Like the shouting.

“You won’t even let me thank you for saving me from these dogs,” Wei Ying pouts. “You’ve been running away from me for days now.”

Wangji sighs, and pries Wei Ying off his arm.

“I did not do it for your thanks,” he says as he slips his school bag off his shoulders and opens it. “I do not need your gratitude. Here.”

He holds out a small, wrapped package.

By now, Wei Ying knows what’s inside. He eagerly opens it and takes in the morsels of food that Wangji has brought him. His stomach has been grumbling all day, and he hasn’t been lucky enough to find some decent leftovers in the trashcans today. He’s already been considering another heist at the little food stand that sells baozi, even though he knows that the proprietor is wise to his tricks now.

The food that Wangji gives him is better.

He doesn’t waste any time and immediately sits down on the nearest dry stone step to eat, careful not to waste the smallest drop of sauce, the tiniest bit of food.

Wangji sits next to him wordlessly and watches him eat, as he always does. Wei Ying isn’t quite sure why he keeps doing it, keeps bringing him food, since he doesn’t seem to actually like Wei Ying, but the food is good and he’s definitely hungry enough not to question Wangji’s motives.

Wangji gives him food and saves him from stray dogs, and he sometimes shows him what they’re learning in class, so that Wei Ying can learn too. Wangji might not like him, but to Wei Ying, Wangji is his best friend in the entire world. He’s also Wei Ying’s most favourite person in the entire world.

His parents don’t count, because they’re gone now.

He swallows a thank you with the last bite of the food, and hands the wrapping back to Wangji.

“Don’t you think it’s time that you tell me your real name?” he asks.

But Wangji remains quiet, still refusing to give Wei Ying his real name, as he always does.

The first time they met, they fought because Wangji caught him stealing a peach. Wei Ying demanded to know his name so he could always remember his archnemesis, the stuck-up boy that came between him and a delicious peach. And Wangji had told him that his name was “Wangji,” which was obviously fake and not even his full name! He’d never been so insulted.

Even now that Wangji brings him food, he’s still only Wangji. It’s a game by now, trying to figure out what it takes for Wangji to finally tell him his real name.

Wei Ying may not know his real name, but he does know a few things about Wangji. He knows that Wangji’s family is well off, that he goes to a good school, that he’s very conscious about being proper and orderly, and that his mother has died a short while ago. That’s not something Wangji has told him directly – he’s heard the neighbours gossip about it. They always call him and his older brother “the poor boys” in that lowered tone of voice that makes it clear they’re afraid of being overheard by someone (they don’t mind Wei Ying though, because Wei Ying is nobody). His mother had been sick for a long time, apparently, and it’s all very tragic, but Wei Ying also hears the badly hidden glee in their voices. A respectable, wealthy family like that, brought low by scandal and tragedy, yadda yadda…

At some point, Wei Ying grew disgusted of their shameless gossiping and stopped listening. Wangji is good to him, and that’s what matters. And he feels a kind of kinship with Wangji. They both lost people that they loved. Wei Ying understands what Wangji must be feeling.

And Wangji seems lonely. Wei Ying never sees Wangji with any other children his age, he never sees him playing, and he always has the same invariably serious expression on his face. If Wei Ying’s presence helps a little with the loneliness Wangji evidently endures, then that’s fine with him. They’re best friends. He will stick with Wangji for the rest of his life, if he has to.

Or at least as long as Wangji is fine with keeping a dirty street rat around.

He gives up his current attempt at finding out Wangji’s real name, and tries to think of a topic better suited for conversation.

“Wangji,” he says eventually. “Tell me about the rabbits.”

Wangji loves rabbits. He’s never been allowed to keep them when he was younger, but a short while ago, he’s finally gotten permission from his uncle to convert a small part of their garden into a rabbit pen. He’s been researching the needs of the rabbits, how to keep them properly, and has been dithering over the breed of rabbits he wants to keep. It’s both funny and adorable, to see Wangji like that. If it had been Wei Ying, he’d probably taken the first rabbit that he came across and stuck him in a cage, but that’s not how Wangji operates. He’s fully committed to creating a rabbit paradise. And Wei Ying loves listening to Wangji talking about his little paradise. It’s one of the few topics that actually make Wangji talk.

Wei Ying closes his eyes and listens to Wangji’s newest plans with a smile. The time that he spends with Wangji is one of the few periods in his day during which he feels safe. Living on the streets isn’t safe. The days are troublesome enough, but the nights are dangerous, and there are more people (and dogs) that wish him harm than he cares for. Still, it’s better than the orphanage. Even when he goes hungry more often than not.

Wangji tells him all about his current plans for the rabbit enclosure, but all too soon, he has to leave again. His uncle is really strict about the curfew. He shoulders his school bag and stands up, and Wei Ying follows him.

“Bye, Wangji,” he says a little regretfully, leaning up and giving Wangji a kiss on his left cheek.

It had been a joke, the first time he did it. It’s something he often did with his parents, kissing them goodbye before they left for work in the morning, or whenever he could, really. He misses their touch so much that he’s physically shaking some days. He was both feeling lonely and had kind of wanted to tease Wangji a little with the all-too-familiar gesture when he kissed Wangji for the first time, but for some reason, Wangji permitted it. He gave Wei Ying a shocked glare, but the glare wasn’t followed by a command to never do it again. So Wei Ying did it again. By now, he gives him a kiss every time they part.

Maybe, maybe, he thinks to himself sometimes, Wangji will come to return it one day.

Once Wei Ying manages to make Wangji like him, too.

---

Time has lost all meaning to Wei Ying by now, so he often doesn’t know what day it is, never mind what date. Today is just a terrible. Whether it’s Tuesday or Thursday doesn’t matter.

Wei Ying has been feeling sluggish all day, has barely found the energy to drag himself out of his hiding place. He managed to find some leftovers around lunchtime, but threw them up almost immediately, his stomach unable to tolerate the spicy food that he usually loves eating. He thinks he’s getting sick. He hasn’t been sick since his parents died, not really, and he feels appropriately miserable. He wants nothing more than a warm blanket, a gentle hand, and some hot tea to soothe him. Unfortunately, none of these things are achievable for him anymore.

Wangji finds him crouched close to one of the street stalls, leeching off the radiating warmth coming from the meat grill while the stall owner keeps his watchful eye on him (in case he’s getting any ideas, which he’s not). It’s cold enough that he doesn’t chase Wei Ying off, though, for which he’s grateful.

“Ying,” Wangji says as he reaches out and presses his cool hand to Wei Ying’s forehead. “You have a fever.”

“It’ll pass,” Wei Ying assures him, because that’s what fevers usually do.

“You need to rest,” Wangji says.

“I am resting. It’s warm here.”

“You’re shaking.”

“I’ll be leaving soon,” Wei Ying sighs, hoping that Wangji would just leave him alone. He doesn’t want to talk right now. Talking is exhausting.

Wangji seems to have other plans, however. Instead of leaving, he lifts Wei Ying’s arm over his shoulder and basically drags him back through the streets to Wei Ying’s hideout. He bundles Wei Ying into his ratty blankets, making sure he’s as comfortable as an old mattress in an abandoned house gets before he leaves.

Ten minutes later, he magically reappears with hot tea and soup in thermosflasks, which he carefully feeds to Wei Ying. It helps a little, but now that he’s lying down, Wei Ying realises just how terrible he’s really feeling, and how sick he really is. He wouldn’t be able to get up again if he tried.

“I don’t feel so good, Wangji,” he mumbles, his eyes half-closed. “I’m scared. Please don’t leave me.”

“I will take care of you,” Wangji promises, and strokes his sweaty hair away from his forehead.

Wei YIng dozes a little, secure in the knowledge that Wangji is nearby, looking over him. He always feels safe when Wangji is around. Slowly, evening turns into night, and the sky outside is pitch black by now. The fever prevents him from falling asleep properly. He keeps tossing around, trying to find a comfortable position, a little soothed whenever Wangji strokes his forehead, his cheeks, with cool fingers.

Once, he thinks he feels a kiss pressed against his temple, and he wants to gloat a little.

See, Wangji, he wants to say, I knew you’d come around.

But the words refuse to leave his throat.

The next moment, Wangji stands up and leaves. His careful steps echo around the empty building. Then, Wei Ying is suddenly left alone.

“Wang…ji?” he cries out in a broken voice. But only silence answers him.

He waits for Wangji to come back. Maybe he just went to get some more tea. Maybe he needed to use the toiled. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Time passes by and Wangji doesn’t return. Bit by bit, the icy cold crawls under Wei Ying’s ratty blanket, and a different kind of coldness crawls into his heart.

He doesn’t know how much time passes, but it’s enough for realisation to dawn: Wangji won’t come back. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

Wangji left him here, alone.

He left him alone even though Wei Ying asked him not to. He left him alone even though Wangji is the only person in this world that still cares about Wei Ying.

He’s cold and he’s exhausted, but he still has the energy to spill hot, desperate tears over this betrayal. Wangji has left him, too.

Wangji has left.

He will never, ever ask anyone to stay with him again.

That’s the last thing he remembers.

---

The next thing he knows, he’s in a hospital bed.

He is later informed that the police picked him up that night and brought him to a hospital, but he has no memory of it. He has no memory of any of the events that night. He only remembers being feverish and in pain, wishing that his parents were there with him.

When he wakes up, however, he finds a man sitting at his bedside, smiling at him gently. Wei Ying has never seen this man in his entire life.

“Hello, Wei Ying,” the man greets him once he’s taken in the sterile surroundings of the hospital room. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

It takes a while for Wei Ying to understand, but Jiang Fengmian, the man at his bedside, patiently explains to him that he’s an old friend of his parents, and that he’s been looking for Wei Ying ever since the news of their death reached him. By the time he contacted the orphanage Wei Ying had been brought to, Wei Ying had already run away, and no one knew where he was. But now that he’s finally been found, Jiang Fengmian is determined to adopt him, and bring him home with him to Hubei.

It all sounds far too good to be true, the things that Jiang Fengmian is saying. He’s going to have a family. He’s going to have an older sister and a younger brother, and he will never have to worry again about food. He will be able to go back to school, get an education. He will be taken care of in Hubei.

Hubei is very far away.

But what choice is there, really? Nothing is keeping him here in Suzhou. Only the memory of his parents’ deaths remains here.

He’s been living on the streets for months, cold and hungry and alone. There is nothing for him to lose. Nothing for him to regret.

He accepts Jiang Fengmian’s offer, and closes another chapter in his life.

#kuro writes #the untamed #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #mdzs #snow fic

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jeonsduck · 5 years

Text

Smoke and Mirrors pt 5

a/n: Y/N meets the guys

warnings: uhhh, fever symptoms, things get a lil steamy at the end

After the day you’d had, you fell asleep long before your usual bedtime, and well into the next morning. It was Sunday, so it’s not like anything mattered. Noodles was tucked under your arm and San had his arm thrown over your waist. You didn’t remember going to bed, but you probably passed out from emotional distress sometime last night between crying and kissing the man in your bed. You zoned out tracing the stylistic tattoo wrapped over San’s shoulder. It looked familiar, but you couldn’t quite place why. It was blurry in your eyesight and San shifted, humming in your ear.

“Y/N? Are you awake?”

You hummed an affirmative noise, which bothered Noodles, him meowing and hopping off the bed.

“How are you feeling today? You wanna tell me about what happened?” San asked, propping his head up on his palm.

He looked down at your, shadowy and muted in the cloudy light coming in from your window. His hand cupped around your waist, his thumb rubbing small slow circles into your skin.

“Jacob is dead.” you said plainly.

San’s eyebrows knit, leaning closer.

“The guy you went to dinner with earlier?” San asked for clarification.

“Yeah, we weren’t super close or anything, but we were friends at work, ya know? Kinda the only person in the whole office that wasn’t a total dick to me.” you explained, watching the ceiling fan go in circles.

“Your friend? You weren’t dating?” he asked.

You chuckled shaking your head.

“Nah, just friends. I think Jacob might have a had abit of a crush on me, but there wasn’t anything going on.” you confirmed.

San swallowed audibly, and sat up abruptly. He ran his hands through his hair like he was stressed out. You furrowed your eyebrows and sat up with him. It was your friend that died, so why was he so torn up. Suddenly, he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you up completely in a hug.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry…” he started, and you patted him on the back awkwardly.

“It's not your fault San. But thank you anyway. Thank you for taking care of me yesterday too.” you said, pulling back.

San smiled awkwardly, it not quite reaching his eyes.

“Of course, anything for you.” he says.

“Is it weird to ask you to leave? I want to be alone for a little while.” you asked and San nodded vigorously.

“Whatever you need. Call me if you need anything, I’ll always answer.” San said, and pecked you on the forehead before slipping out of bed.

You heard him say goodbye to Noodles and the front door shut and lock before you flopped back down on your bed. You spent a few more hours vegging out in bed before you finally dragged yourself out of bed. You cleaned the apartment in a daze and then put on some mindless TV with Noodles on your lap.

You took a shower and went to bed on time. You thought about taking time off from work, but who knows when Jacob’s funeral was going to be and it would dredge up the same emotions all over again. So you packed up all your sadness and angst and packed it away to deal with when the day came.

The next day you got dressed, fed Noodles, and San drove you to work. The bodyguards weren’t in the car, and you didn’t comment on it. The air in the car was stale and neither of you made the effort to make conversation. You had a bit of a sore throat and your back hurt. You were dozing off in the passenger seat and didn't even realize until San was shaking you awake at the office.

“Y/N, maybe you should take the day off…” he tried but you shook your head.

“I’ll be fine.” you brushed him off climbing out of the car.

For most of the day you were fine. You weren’t particularly sad or anything, just tired. You could look at some numbers, you didn’t need to waste your vacation time on this. Or so you thought.

The numbers on the ledgers kept swimming in front of your face and nothing was making sense. You tried to take your notes to the best of your ability, but nothing was making sense. You laid your head down against the table, closing your eyes and breathing hard. Colors flashed behind your eyelids and you felt light-headed. What the hell was going on?

You decided to take a quick breather with your head lying against the cool material of the desk, but it warmed up quickly, and somehow you got the idea in your head to lie on floor. When you stood up, you automatically became faint, your knees buckling and bringing you to the floor. You yelped and knocked down a few binders on the way down.

The noise of the heavy binders hitting the floor alerted Keran, and she came to check on you.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” she asked, helped you back into your chair. You caught sight of her tattoo again.

“You and San have similar tattoos.” you mumbled.

“Here, put your head between your knees, I’ll get San. And a glass of water.” she said, making sure you were stable before leaving.

San came rushing into the room a moment later, kneeling in front of you and taking your face in his hands. He brushed your hair from your face, trying to catch your eyes.

“Y/N? Can you hear me?”

You hummed an affirmative, nodding your head almost made you tip over.

“Here, boss.” Keran returned, handing San a paper cup of water for you. He held the drink up to your lips and you drank it quickly.

“Did you eat yesterday?” he asked and you nodded gently.

“Does your head hurt? What’s wrong?” San asked.

He sounded calm but was actually freaking out.

“My back hurts, and my throat is kind of sore. It’s hot.” you mumbled.

San realized that you were sweating profusely, but you still had your coat on. He quickly stripped it from you, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. Then he cupped your neck with both hands, feeling your temperature.

“You’re burning up baby…” he said worried.

You were too out of it to react to him calling you baby, squinting at him as your eyesight blurred suddenly.

“Why’d you take my coat, s’cold now.” you muttered, swaying in your seat.

“Probably a bad fever, you should take them to the hospital.” Keran said, and it sounded like she was speaking underwater.

“Tell the guys to get the car.” San ordered, and scooped you up in his arms bridal style.

The change in position made you dizzy and you squeezed your eyes closed to fight off the nausea.

“You’re strong…” you commented out loud.

San chuckled, carrying you out to the parking lot. He buckled you into the back seat and called his doctor while the guards drove you to the hospital.

The next 72 hours passed in a general haze of colors, sounds, and smells. You recalled San feeding you some kind of soup, stumbling into the wall on your way to the bathroom, and lots and lots of Powerade.

“This is what you get for sitting out in the rain for 20 minutes like a goose.” San reprimanded, but you just sneezed on him in retaliation.

“That was on fucking purpose wasn’t it? Don’t pretend to be fever crazy now, you’re disgusting.” he whined, but you just rolled over and hid under the covers.

On the third day, you were more sane, and Jacob’s funeral was happening in the morning. You were still too sick to attend the service, and you would have felt out of place with Jacob’s family and close friends there anyway. San was nice enough to help you get dressed and drive you out so you could at least leave some flowers on his grave and say your goodbyes. He even brought a bouquet himself to put on Jacob’s grave. Purple hyacinths. After that you’d come back home exhausted from just that short trip outside and passed out.

When you were finally feeling well enough to go back to work on the fourth day, San hit you with some interesting news.

“I think you should meet the guys.” he says.

You look at him eyes wide in shock.

“Who? You mean your friends?” you asked.

“Yeah, is that weird?” he laughed it off, but rather awkwardly.

“I mean, a little. Why does it sound like I’m meeting your parents or something?” you chuckled to diffuse the tension but San just looked nervous.

“I mean, I know we can’t really do anything officially until you’re done with your investigation, but I thought maybe… maybe we had something going on between us but if I read that wrong-”, you cut him off before he could ramble any longer.

“No, you read it right. But yeah, we need to keep it professional until I finish this case.” you say.

“So, we can say it’s about the investigation if anyone asks. I just really want you to meet them without you being all nervous and jumpy. I have a lunch meeting with them on Friday if you want to tag along.” ho offers.

That sounds… nice. It’s probably a good idea to meet them in a setting that doesn’t absolutely terrify you. So you agree. If you were to pinpoint the exact moment your relationship with Choi San changed, this would be the moment. From then on, your relationship with San was purely unprofessional.

It was also another fatal mistake. You never should have met San’s other friends, letting the eight of them lull you into a false sense of security.

Friday came and you were nervous. Despite San’s assurances that they were really nice guys and that they’d love you, your mental images of his friends were still very dark, serious and scary. And just like when you first met San, they proved you completely wrong.

For one, Kim Hongjoong didn’t look like a hardened mafia boss. He looked like the type of person you would see backstage at a fashion show, running the event. He was dressed eclectically, and you noticed some similarities to San’s style. The faux fur coat gave him a large silhouette considering he was a short man. His fingers were all covered in large rings, his top was silk, and your were sure his pants were so tight, if he had a quarter in his pocket you’d be able to tell if it was heads or tails.

“You can blame San’s fashion literacy on me. He’s like a Barbie doll, he’ll wear whatever I throw at him.” Hongjoong said with a bright smile. Ah, so that explained it.

Park Seonghwa was a bit more striking, wearing all black and looking ab it like an angry storm cloud.

“It’s nice to meet you Y/N.” he said, shaking your hand.

“Don’t be so intimidated, Seonghwa’s a real softy, he just looks like that because he’s an Aries.” San whispered, and San whacked him on the shoulder.

“Shut up Sannie.” Seonghwa scolded and you looked at San with mirth in your eyes.

“Sannie?”

“He’s just being stupid. Here, talk to Mingi.” he said, pushing you towards the giant as he got into a spat with Seonghwa.

You looked at Mingi awkward without San’s hand resting comfortably at the small of your back.

“Hi, I’m Song Mingi, it’s nice to meet you.” he said, breaking into a bright smile.

You automatically relaxed. Despite the fact that Mingi was dressed like he’d just stepped out of the Matrix, he was a huge softie. His business partner Yunho appeared, and they kind of looked like complete opposites, with Yunho dressed in a fluffy sweater and Mingi decked out in leather.

San came back after you met Yunho, steering you to meet Yeosang. San had said he was kind of shy, which you could tell by the way he kept hiding behind his drink. He definitely didn’t look like the owner of multiple charities and jewelry companies. He looked like a fairy that wanted very much to be at home right now.

Then it was Jongho. He was dressed like a stereotypical athlete, joggers and a hoodie, even in such a nice restaurant. You were sure they had a dress code, but maybe if you coached three Olympic martial arts teams, you got a free pass to wear slides instead of real shoes. Honestly, Jongho was the most intimidating, but that was mainly because you’d seen him pick up a table and threaten Yunho not ten minutes prior to meeting him. He laughed when you stuttered out your introduction.

“Oh, I promise, I’m not the one you should be afraid of.” he says with a wink, sliding way before San can hit him.

“What was that about?” you ask but San just chuckles.

“He’s just joking. Come on I saved the best for last.” he says, leading you around the table.

The last one you meet is Wooyoung, San’s best friend. He smiles lopsidely when you approach, sweeping down into a bow and kissing the back of your palm.

“So you’re San’s latest obsession….. I can tell why he’s infatuated with you.” Wooyoung joked and San rolled his eyes.

“Quit playing around dude.”

Wooyoung laugh, his face breaking out into a full smile. He hugs San, and when his shirt rides up you catch a glimpse of an intricate black tattoo on his side. Maybe he and San have matching tattoos?

Lunch goes smoothly, with the boys teasing each other about inside jokes San explains into your ear. That being said, you’re not left out of the conversation at all. San has apparently been telling his friends a lot about you, and they have a lot of questions. You try to answer them all to the best of your ability but you’re feeling a bit overwhelmed. San must do or say something that tips them off, because they start toning it down.

Hongjoong is the only one to ask about the investigation, jokingly asking if you think they’re really triad members. You laugh along, saying that Jongho seems a little sketchy. It must be the right answer, because it earns you a round of laughter from the table.

After the meal while San is fetching your coats, Yeosang approaches you. You’re suprised, considering how quiet he is.

“Be careful with San. He can be pretty…. One-track minded when it comes to relationships.” Yeosang says.

“What do you mean?” you ask.

Yeosang shrugs, seeing San approaching you.

“He gets attached easily and quickly. Go slowly with him, or before you know it you’ll be moving way too fast.” he says, and walks away before San steps up behind you.

“Oh, Yeosang said something to you. Was he nice?” San asked, helping you into your coat.

“Uh, I guess?”

San smiled and booped your nose with his finger.

“Let’s get you home, hmm?”

Get you home turns into coming u for a coffee, which turns into watching Netflix which turns into making out on your couch, which turns into making out in your bed, which turns into tearing each other’s clothes off and pressing hot kisses into each other’s mouths, and sucking dark red marks on San’s neck as his fingers leave bruises on your hips. You gasp against San’s mouth and he groans in the prettiest way when you grind your knee up against the bulge in his slacks.

“Slow down, you don’t want to start something you can’t finish babe.” San hums.

The other night when you asked San to distract you, you’d stopped at heavy petting keeping it above the belt and PG-13. Tonight, there were no such boundaries and San seemed intent on making one thing very clear: you belonged to him.

#ateez #ateez san #san #choi san #san x reader #choi san x reader #ateez x reader #san scenarios #san imagines #san fanfic #ateez fanfic

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