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#some days i just feel so tired and fatigued to draw :[
dandyshucks · 7 months
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i have decided the worst thing about high fatigue days is that I am too fatigued to even draw my beloveds -_-
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jolapeno · 9 months
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it means something
joel miller x f!reader | masterlist
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summary: compliments don’t fall from his tongue, but they drip from his eyes. They land on your skin, healing scars that don’t show; they make you glow, and feel like something worth choosing.
to @joelsflannel, i took aspects of all your prompts. i tried to make it fluffy, her a little romantic, i tried to give you a quote that i hope you adore, with a man i know you already love. and i sprinkled in a hard day for you, but with some stress-easing fun to unwind with. merry christmas <;3
wordcount: 3.2k warnings: softer!joel, soft sex (p in v), talks of love, jackson era joel, mentions of ellie, joel in a towel (like damn). written for @pedrostories secret santa event.
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You’re tired, drained.
Somehow, you find yourself able to drag your feet from the livelier part of Jackson to the quieter, almost more peaceful part. The soles of your boots draw lines behind you, all of which will likely be covered by the newly settling snow within the hour.
It's picturesque, this place. The kind of location you expect would have once been on postcards that people would be sent to loved ones saying 'wish you were here'.
You don't have to wish.
If your eyes weren’t like pinholes, you’d take a second to admire it.
Stamp your boots in one spot, and enjoy the crunch of it under your feet. A thing you’d do on any other day, if not for the fact, that you were so ready to be in the warmth, to be with him—to curl into him and breathe in his scent.
The kind of scent which buries itself into your nose, to your soul. It wraps its fingers around you and digs its clutches into you. Not that you complain. You'd bathe in it if you could, happily letting him smear it over your skin whenever the two of you have the chance.
It’s why you continue to move. It's why you force one leg in front of the other, muscles begging for reprieve.
By the time you’re up the steps, fingers wrapping around the handle of the front door, you realise how badly you wish to shed your layers. Desiring nothing more than to slide out of your coat, unwrap your scarf, remove the hat, gloves and second pair of socks.
Twisting the handle, the door doesn't fight letting you inside. Instead, it welcomes you. Allowing you to move quickly inside, more than anyone would expect from someone so fatigued—removing the layers, hanging each in turn on the rack beside his.
A sight which tugs at something inside you. It loops its fingers around that feeling within, gently pulling—it is all warm, unexplainable; all hard to describe, but the closest word is lovely, nice—welcomed.
That feeling had been born before the end of days, but it had been nothing but an ember then. Now, it was a roaring fire, all lit by him.
You're sure he knows. Not that either of you talk about it. It added to the long list of things you never speak, not for his sake, but for yours.
Even when you first began your… thing with him, you’d found it as difficult as him to know what to call it. Especially, when it had all happened so randomly, with no explanation or sight that it would occur. It just did.
Smiling, you allow yourself a moment to think back to it. How warm it was. How the setting sun smudged an array of shades across the sky, how you'd been bitter about something, mumbling under your breath until a noise cut through your dismay. His laughter. All gruff and born from his throat. It had expelled into the space between the two of you, cut through your bad mood.
Because it had been louder than you’d ever heard it as the two of you walked back, as you did on so many other nights. But that night had felt so different—and it was.
One moment you were staring, and the next his lips found yours, all chapped, but soft. His fingers around your cheek, whispering your name so gently. Stroking your skin, all worn, a bit rough.
Now, the two of you are a habit. A routine.
Nothing has ever been discussed, nothing ever exchanged. Just some nights you ate dinner with him—knee pressed against his. Sometimes your things sat along his in his home, bobby pins and whatever book you were reading.
Some days Ellie let herself into your house, had made a bedroom out of one of your spares, and sometimes she asked if you wanted to come round to theirs.
The only constant thing is that at least once every week, your limbs found themselves tangled with his. His mouth latched itself onto your neck, hand grasping at your breast, fingers pinching the peak of your nipple as he gruffly told you how hard you’d gotten him.
You liked it. Craved it.
Enjoyed the way you took him apart as he focused on making you a mess.
You liked seeing his salt and pepper curls cling to his forehead, liked running your nails through the hair on the back of his neck—back arched into him, feeling fuller than you’d ever imagined you could. Hearing his gruff voice in your ear, saying words he'd never say if he wasn't buried to the hilt inside of you.
But then, you only call him Joel when he's between your thighs too.
"Miller?"
His name rings around the first floor of the house.
Checking the package in your pocket, you sigh as the day drips from your tight muscles. Hand moving to rub the back of your neck, staring at Ellie's half-open comic and the pencils you'd lent her over the table.
You knew she wouldn't reply, not when tonight was movie night. A Christmas one, she'd told you. She had already let it slip she was going, told you as she kept watch on the door so you could continue your surprise for him.
Her request for you to join her faded when you looked up at her, likely seeing the same look which now greets you in the dust-covered mirror.
Kicking off your boots, and removing one layer of socks, you sigh at the way your feet can all of a sudden breathe—even inside his thick socks. Wiggling your toes, you smile as you begin to curl and unfurl them, before your hand finds the bannister, dragging yourself up the stairs until you reach his room.
His empty room.
Heart falling, you consider calling out again. Using his first name this time—letting each of the four letters carry around the house.
But, his bed looks comfortable. It calling to you. Somehow finding yourself lying on it, your face pressed into his sheets, your bones and muscles sighing in relief that you're in a bed.
Eyes wishing to flutter shut, body unwinding against the mattress, the sheets. It’s on the third heavy exhale, do you realise you hear water. It falls in pitters and patters, distantly, likely from the bathroom across the hall.
That’s when a smile curls across your face because you’ve always found comfort in the sound of running water.
Whether it’s rivers or rain, and showers or leaks. It reminds you of calmness, of things fading from reach—washing away, starting anew. Memories of times trying to colour themselves in your mind, fading before they do as sleep tries to coax you away.
The only thing which displaces the grip sleep has on you, is the comforting sight that comes to a stop at the foot of the bed.
Steam swirling around him, all broad shoulders and still damp skin—the hair on his chest, arms, and stomach, clinging in half-swirled curls and straight lines, the towel clutched at his hip.
The first time you saw Joel Miller naked, you’d almost lost the function to speak. All man—all soft and muscle simultaneously. Something constructed from fantasies, made in real life, carved and moulded by hands you think never thought he’d be real. You were close to not being able to speak all over again now.
Eyes tracing, outlining and shading—squirrelling away a sketch of him you’ll think about when the other side of the bed is cold and not filled with him.
“Didn’t hear you come in.”
You hum, lifting up onto your elbows, admiring him, finding him doing the same—even if you suspect you’re not half as good-looking right now as he is.
Least of all when he takes your ankle in hand, moving you sideways with him as steps between your legs now hanging off the bed, the fabric of his towel brushing over your jeans, his palms coming down on the mattress on either side of your neck, staring at you with a look of concern.
“Y’not been sleepin’?”
“Just been busy,” you reply, arms looping around his neck. “Not lots of time to rest.”
You suppose at some point between summer and winter, things became soft—less about need and company, and something along the lines of real.
In another world, one not ridden with fungi and death, you suppose it would have been labelled, added something which tied the two of you together—something meaning more to others than it likely would do to you.
Smiling, you force your eyes to open properly. Watching that look of hunger slowly bleed out over the concern, vanishing entirely when you smirk. If the two of you were different, you suspect you'd tell him you miss him. Tell him you've thought about him.
Instead, you whisper, “Want you, Joel.”
Even more so when you trace the words over his mouth. Aware of his hands on your jeans, and how he's popped open the button, how he's dragging down the zipper. The fabric freely slides from your skin as your hands slide down, dropping to the towel at his waist—thumb digging over it, all ready to pull, unravel it. “Need you.”
His eyes narrow swallowed in darkness. “Yeah?”
Nodding, you roll your lips, dragging your fingers to the tuck, undoing it, not taking your eyes off him. Seeing something in his eyes that is more than just reciprocation of the words spoken, but the ones left unsaid.
“You want me?”
However, you’ll have me.
You’re not sure you speak it, but you're sure he hears it all the same.
For how aloof people think he is, he’s a man who listens—not just to the crunch of branches and the rustle of trees, but to the things people don’t say. He hears their secrets and pulls away their lies. Skills he told you one night he levelled up in when the world tried to keep taking more than it had already.
You suppose it’s how he knows you, your body, what you want and what you crave.
More so as he tangles his tongue with yours, all heady—gripping him firm, tightly as his fingers snake between the two of you. Desperation thrumming through your fingers as you push them into his skin, into his muscles—feeling the coil tighten as he moves his fingers with nothing short of precision. Knowing you, having mapped you out, learnt your cues—it’s why you don’t fight it, the incoming wave ready to drench your taut muscles, let him undo you, unravel you out so you’re nothing but spread out for him.
He likes it like that, you can tell. Likes how you surrender to him, how you lay out for him, letting him move you how he needs you.
It used to be rough, desperate—pure carnal. But, it’s been replaced by something else, something not soft or romantic, but you’re sure it’s a distant relative.
Once you’d gotten a bruise on your hip that pulsed, shifted in shades from being nudged against your kitchen table. Now when he leaves them, he traces them with his thumb, hoping to suck out the sting. Because now you’re treated to comfort—too recently washed bedding and his fingers inside your cunt as your body bends into him, practically curls, sings, hums.
“Always so fuckin’ tight for me.”
Compliments don’t fall from his tongue, but they drip from his eyes. They land on your skin, healing scars that don’t show. Each lick of his gaze makes you glow, and feel like something worth choosing, having been picked, plucked—and placed on some mantle you don’t even mind being perched on.
Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, breathing a struggle, practically gasping, you mumble his name—murmur it, almost a whine. “Fuck me now, Joel. Want you inside of me.”
Then, you’re overwhelmed.
Bathed in both the scent of fresh soap, dewy skin and absolute fullness. Your legs wrapping, crossing at the ankles as he slides into the hilt—pausing, just as he always does, fingers brushing over your jaw until he’s tilting your chin.
That same look—the one you first witnessed after the kiss under the dusk.
It doesn’t vanish until you show him, either in a whisper of the magic words or a movement he can read as a spell. Your hips rolling, rocking—please, please.
Your hands take in the feel of him breathing, the way his chest expands, fills with the knowledge, the realisation, nails digging, almost all in order. One he answers, delivers, fucking stamps.
Joel makes your toes curl, makes white noise appear in your ears, and makes you forget every important thing you’ve ever filed away. All hot, scorching against your skin as you grasp him closer, hoping you’ll be smothered in burns—hoping the same when you swallow his grunts, his hisses off your name. His hips pistoning, aiming to send you over the edge before him, hands—riddled with the evidence of his survival and his new hobby keep you rooted, don’t allow you to wander off into bliss without him.
“Too good f’me, sweetheart.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” he grunts, right against your pulse, before he licks against what beats under your skin.
You snort amidst your whine, clutching all the strings which keep you whole as you close your eyes—banish him from looking into your soul. He’s seen all there is there, let him in before, provided flashes, evidence of your shattered soul and broken mentality. It comes to the surface easier here, when your walls suck him in, and your body calls for him in a chorus of pleading and begging.
Because you’re close—not needing too much from him tonight, the sight of him is enough. The knowledge of his existence, knowing he’s yours without confirmation.
“There, right there,” you moan, heels digging into the base of his back, feeling the jostle of him, the way he rears and fucks.
He smirks, shifting, just enough to make the head of his cock hit the spot which makes your thighs shake, tremble, fucking quake. His mouth still split open, words there on his tongue, all ready to drape over your skin—
But, you just feel it’s incoming arrival. All white-hot, blinding—too much pressure, yet needing just a little bit more. Your body is not yours, mind empty, gone, faded. You want to sink your teeth into him, bite down, cut into him and leave a mark like the ones he leaves inside you each time the two of you do this.
Because it means something. This. The two of you in this little house in fucking Jackson. Doesn’t it? Doesn’t it?
“Yea’,” he grunts, palm on your face, tilting you up roughly, forcing your eyes to open.
And you swear he smiles when they flash open. You swear it.
“Means somethin’, sweetheart. This—fuck—us.”
The words grind into you. As though he's the pestle and your mortar. Your breath is lost, unable to be grasped, your body hanging, pleasure a bigger force—swallowing the room, casting you in shadows and misting over you—until you cry out. Squeezing, fluttering.
Not able to see anything but his face, the look on his face—the twisted expression of his lips and the deepness of his eyes. More black, than brown—but they’re somehow still soft, still full of something you hope is pleasant and full of emotions.
It only vanishes briefly when he spills inside of you.
When he collapses on top of you—his heart hammering against your ribs. And, even if it isn’t the first time, you feel yourself still—pause, no rash movements, because this is nice, this is something you want without asking for it.
“Can’t believe I can hear y’brain already.”
Snorting, you roll your eyes, glancing over—finding his lips have slid into his cheek.
It gnaws at you, the reason for your lack of sleep. The thing which you've traded hours of rest for. That dormant part pushed to the edge by exhaustion, now awake and very much worrying.
“Got you something,” you whisper, biting your lip, watching his brows furrow and lines appear between them.
Standing up, you steal the dressing gown from the back of his door—the one you’d traded for months ago. The one which is far too big, even for him, making it only cosier when you borrow it. Shooting him a smile, you almost disguise it, worried it's far too soft, too normal, before you mumble about being right back.
It's a hurry to the front door, all feet hammering down on wooden steps before your hand digs in your coat pocket, retrieving the wrapped thing you’ve lost shuteye over.
When you enter, he’s under the sheets—hair at odd angles, looking both a mixture of energised and fucked out that you wish you could paint with your fingers, so you'd forever have it.
“Didn’t wanna give this to you on the 25th—just in case you popped a vein trying to figure out what it means.”
Kneeling on the bed, you take a levelling breath, before handing it to him. His eyes travelling from you to it, fingers taking it—all delicate, measured. Before he unpeels the ribbon, undressing it with more care than he often shows you, before it rolls free of the paper you managed to find. It catches the ceiling light, glinting, gleaming, the handle looking even more detailed in this light than under the candles you’d had to use to remain discreet.
In your hand, the knife had appeared large, and menacing. In his, it looked right.
Yet, his face looked as though it was anything but.
Enough for you to prod, needle. To nudge closer on your knees, to smooth out the sheets and then flick your lashes up, finding him already staring, weighing it up—whatever coated his tongue, had been written in his mind.
“Sweetheart… I don’t… I don’t deserve this—”
More words fall in silence, not quite spoken, yet somehow loud.
Enough for you to say his name, to rest your knee on the bed and deeply sigh.
“You…’m not a good man.”
You almost laugh, but you don’t. Crawling up, placing your hand on his chest, you take a shaky breath. “I’m not sure I care.”
And you don't.
Because it's easy to feel something for him, to love him. It's natural, there one day and the day after. It wasn't hard or difficult, but very fucking easy.
Your mouth even opens to say as much, but you close it again before a syllable is muttered.
Wrapping the gift, he moves it from between the two of you, to the bedside table. His fingers linger, hovering over the carved wood—the one which caused splinters and made your eyes almost cross over. “Y’should. M’not an easy man to love.”
“I disagree,” you whisper, fingers having slid up to the base of his neck, your fingers teasing his curls. “Since I’m pretty sure I already feel those things for you.”
His brows lift, and you smile—letting it speak the words you can’t say, and you’re sure he’s not willing to hear.
“Don’t sweat it, alright? You’re mine, I’m yours. Yeah?”
Nodding, he bites his cheek, placing the knife back into the packaging—moving it, replacing what he’d been holding with your wrist as he pulls you close.
“Got you somethin’ too.”
Nose bumping his, you shift closer, thighs finding themselves on either side of him—his hands finding a place on them, sliding up, callouses grazing on your skin, before squeezing.
“But y’gotta wait until the 25th. Like a good girl.”
Smirking, you cup his cheeks. "Okay, Miller. I'll wait."
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an: merry christmas, i hope you love this <3
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17020 · 3 months
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Vitamin deficiency had hit REN KAJI like a truck.
The sugary treats that sat in his pockets were constantly in his mouth, sometimes acting as replacements for nutritious foods. He had never given the side effects of living off of lollipops any thought, until his body began to show that it had had enough.
Kaji did not wonder why he had been feeling more fatigued after patrols, brushing it off as him not sleeping enough or just being tired of the same, monotonous routine. He also, did not pay any mind to the growing pains on his bones, and how his nails were easily breaking with every punch that he threw.
The one who did notice, though, was you.
Because it was not fun to hop into the shower after a long, tiring day, only to find platinum strands scattered all over the floor.
You were a bit puzzled as to why your apartment was suddenly covered in your boyfriend's hair. It did not take long for you to realize that something was wrong when you laid on top of your boyfriend on your sofa, his fingertips softly drawing circles on your back and giving you small scratches on accident.
Ren Kaji paid no mind to his health, which meant that you had to assume the role of his personal nurse, and it was no easy task.
Pills and capsules were an absolute no, as he straight up denied them as they were 'a total hassle'. Effervescents were your next choice, disguising them as soda and offering them to Kaji, earning a scowl in return as he shook his head in denial.
So when you stumbled across vitamin lollipops while inside the pharmacy, you knew you had hit the jackpot.
Every vitamin you could think of, stuffed inside your boyfriend's favorite treat. The packaging was identical to Kaji's usual lollipops, which was the cherry on top. You had a perfect plan, and in order for it to work, patience was to become your strongest virtue.
It was a slow start.
Every morning, you would offer the blond gremlin next to you a vitamin lollipop, even stuffing them in his pockets for him to grab when he's on patrol. He would take it from your hands with no issue whatsoever, being under the impression that they were the same as usual. His brows furrowed.
"'nother flavor?"
"Mhm. They brought back the cherry ones, and there's orange too."
"Oh. Cool."
Slowly but surely, you had turned into Kaji's personal lollipop dealer, with him shooting you texts asking you for more lollies. It took weeks for Kaji to fully 'return' to normal, if you could even call it that—your boyfriend was better than ever. Sure, the lollipops cost a pretty penny, but the shine on your boyfriend's radiant skin, strong nails and full set of hair made it all worth it.
One morning in particular, your boyfriend stared at you, his palm open and extended towards you.
"Need something, Ren?"
"You give me an orange lollipop every morning before I leave."
You chuckled at your boyfriend's subtle pout, "I ran out, Ren. I'll get some more today, alright?"
Kaji nodded before placing a quick peck on your forehead, heading out the door.
Who knew the perceptive Ren Kaji was so easy to condition and fool?
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n. first time writing for winbre how r we feelin tonight
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gluion · 3 months
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02:48 ➵ park gunwook
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park gunwook x reader
you’re set on playing some more games of valorant, and gunwook is trying to change your mind.
general genre/warnings ➵ established relationship, fluff, suggestive, lots of kissing, hickey moment…, valorant mention
word count ➵ 800 words
a/n ➵ happy birthday @shegotthewoobies <3 ily and i hope you like this drabble :DD if you enjoyed reading, please do reblog & leave feedback!
want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist
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gunwook wishes he isn’t the needy type. the one who can handle the distance. the one who can keep his hands to himself. the one who can fall asleep without you by his side. he hopes he can be the one to fulfill your every request, regardless of the hours or miles it may take.
he likes to think he’s made for you, but the reality is that he needs you.
before gunwook left for work, he promised you a few matches of valorant. his busy schedule didn’t give you two enough time in the day to spend with each other. all you had were hours made for sleep. although you understood gunwook’s schedule, only wanting him to rest before another day filled with work, he couldn’t share the same sentiments as you. all he wants is to be around you; intertwine fingers, and graze his lips over the expanse of your skin. despite your protests, it all falls on deaf ears as he cuts you off with a single kiss before taking his leave.
yet, work is spontaneous. he’ll never know if it’ll be a day where he waits for hours to pass by or to chase them.
gunwook tried to conceal his fatigue, peppering your face with kisses before telling you he’ll shower before he hops on the game. despite your worried eyes, he leads you to your chair before making his way to the washroom.
although he was tired from today’s work, he enjoyed the few matches he got to play. regardless of taerae’s trashtalk, matthew’s missed shots, and taerae’s partner’s whines, his stress levels subsided—all thanks to you. still, he couldn’t fight off the exhaustion.
“hey, i think i’m done for today,” gunwook says, earning a series of groans.
“no! we can’t end here. i mean, we can’t end on a loss!” regardless of taerae’s attempt to make him stay, he already closed the game. 
“bye guys.” he doesn’t wait for another word to leave his friends before he drops the discord call. as he looks over to his right, he sees your screen is on the lobby. he stands up from his seat, expecting you to take your leave until you pull out your phone. 
“hey, let him go to sleep. i’m down to play some unrated. but if you guys find someone else to fill, i’m also up for more ranked matches.”
gunwook can’t help but pout. he should’ve known that you would play a few more games. after all, you’d always try to find time in the day to play. yet, he wishes you could read the words in between his farewell—hey, let’s go to sleep.
a hum leaves you. “okay, let me try to ask my friend if they want to play.”
for a moment, gunwook considers going to bed, leaving you one kiss before you can continue playing. this is your time to destress. but his feet take him to where you are and his hand quickly reaches for your mouse so that he can mute your microphone.
you move your headphones to the side. “hey, what are you—”
his arms find their spot around your waist. “baby,” his whine has you holding your breath, “can’t you play some more games tomorrow? i missed you.”
“gunwook,” a shy giggle leaves your lips, “i’ll just play one or two more games. i’m pretty sure matthew and taerae are trying to find someone to fill.”
then, he nestles his face into your neck. while his nose grazes your skin, you let out a quiet exhale. but the moment you feel his lips, your eyes shut close. out of instinct. out of comfort. out of desire.
“c’mon, i’m sure they’ll understand.” his lips continue to cover every inch of your neck as his hands sneak under your shirt, fingers drawing shapes on your hips. gunwook’s persuasion is hard to ignore.
feigning ignorance, you say, “but i won’t get to play tomorrow. just one game.”
he musters a sigh and you think you won the battle, until his lips latch onto your neck. blunt teeth scratch against your skin as his tongue darts out, sucking in the spot. a soft moan leaves you as you throw your head back.
taerae’s shouts leak out of your headphones but you have no interest in hearing what he has to say.
gunwook’s lips leave you and you try to steady your breathing. you hate his effect on you. “c’mon, let’s go to bed.”
you need a few seconds before you swallow your shame. “to sleep?”
he giggles before he pulls back, allowing you to meet his gaze. “depends if you’ll quit valorant now or later.” and when you spot the smirk that rests on his lips, you don’t think twice about disconnecting from the call without saying goodbye.
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taglist: @kflixnet @blankjournal
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garoujo · 2 years
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YOU OPEN UP THE BLANKET FOR THEM — BLUE LOCK
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feat : nagi seishiro, itoshi sae, itoshi rin, bachira meguru, mikage reo.
♱ warnings — sfw, none! just some very cosy boys / note. snifle i was in grave need of something fluffy 4 comfort since it’s been a hard few days so this was wat i decided on <3
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・✶ 。゚NAGI SEISHIRO
you’re already so comfortable on the couch, wrapped up in the blanket nagi always buried himself in when you hear the door to your apartment close, followed by the slow drag of your boyfriends footsteps as he makes his way down the hallway. it doesn’t take long before you see the peak of his snowy bed head in the doorway, drowsy, lidded gaze blinking at you as a sleepy pout rests on his lips.
“sei, did you have a good practice?” you hum, singing out the little nickname that still makes his ears dust a little red before it’s drawing him closer.
“eh, so tired, pretty thing. ‘ts such a pain, just wanna stay in bed with you and play games.” his voice is already thick with sleep and you take the opportunity to make some room as he approaches. but before you can even consider lifting the blanket to let him in, you feel 190cm’s of muscle flop on top of you as he presses you into the cushions beneath you with a low whine.
“sei! you’re so heavy, move over!” you giggle, trying to push him off but you should know better than to try and move him when hes like this, his arms wrapping tight around your waist to keep you beneath him before he’s nuzzling into the crook of your neck to smear sloppy, sleepy kisses along the skin.
“ah, but you’re sooo warm. no fair..” nagi’s voice trails off at the end as he lets your warmth blanket him, his breathing becoming softer as he hugs you closer — squeezing you like a wordless little request that you know all too well when your fingers come to smooth through his hair.
you can basically feel the way he melts into you, whimpering as he tries to push himself closer while his longer limbs get trapped in the fabric of the blanket beneath you both. but he’s warm and you can’t find it in yourself to complain when you feel his fingers trace messy little shapes into your skin.
“see, just wanna stay like this a lil longer.. moving would be such a pain.”
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・✶ 。゚ITOSHI SAE
sae is quiet when he returns home to you, fatigue heavy in his muscles from a long day of practice as he pops his neck — sighing despite the gentle smile he still wears when he notices you on the couch waiting up for him. you’ve got a blanket wrapped over your shoulders and you send him a drowsy look before you’re smiling back.
“welcome home.” you breathe, it’s quiet and comforting and it’s accompanied by you lifting the side of the blanket draped over you as he takes a careful step into your space, letting the silence stretch out until he’s close enough to greet you with a chaste kiss against your temple.
“did you have a good day?” you ask again and sae gives you a soft look before he hums, sitting down onto the space beside you before he’s guiding your head down to rest in his lap.
“are you tired?” he finally asks, his tone low and smooth but it’s accompanied by the chaste swipe of his fingers along the apple of your cheek, urging you to look up at him when you shake your head in reply. it’s soothing, his touch as he lets you melt into him, curled up in the blanket that you’d offered him while his free hand tucks it under you.
“you’ll get cold like that.” sae clicks his tongue despite the fact it holds no real agitation when he looks at you — letting the corners of his lips turn up when you try to stifle your own smile as you hug yourself closer. but then he speaks again, squeezing gently at your cheek just so he can watch the way you pout and slap him away.
“tell me about your day.”
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・✶ 。゚ITOSHI RIN
“what’re you doing?” rin asks from where he’s stood at the doorway to the living room, he’s still got a towel over his head from his shower — haphazardly drying his hair as he sends you a confused sort of look. you’re sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket that’s draped over your head — making you barely visible under the heavy fabric apart from your now pouty features.
“it’s comfortable, you wanna join?” you grin, lifting the blanket and it’s amusing the way the dark haired striker grumbles before he clicks his tongue. he’s suddenly tearing his gaze away from you and mulling it over in his mind before he’s taking you up on the request — silently, like it’ll hide the way his ears seem to have tinted a little pink with your question.
it’s awkward at first, the way rin rests himself on the edge of the couch in the space next to you — he looks rigid and definitely not comfortable, but it’s endearing and a little cute seeing him like this. which is why you find yourself giggling before you speak, pulling a groan and a pretty frown from your boyfriend as he shoots you a look. “you can come closer, i won’t bite.”
“shutup, i don’t think you bite.. my hairs just wet.” he replies quickly, almost too fast before the end of his sentence breaks off into a mumble and he knows you’ve got him. but he sends you a wide-eyed, starry sort of look when your next movement brings your hands to the towel along his shoulders before you help dry it.
it’s gentle the way rin’s palm rests on your thigh, leaning into your touch as you dry off his dark hair — his cheeks are tinted a little pink and you can see the way he’s stealing glances at you before he’s finally easing, pushing closer to you as his fingers squeeze affectionately at your skin.
“thanks.”
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・✶ 。゚BACHIRA MEGURU
bachira’s already grinning when he makes his way into the bedroom, noticing you already comfy and nuzzled into the comforter over top of you as you send him a suspicious sort of look. “why are you smiling that?” you ask, pushing yourself up to furrow your brows at your boyfriend as he chuckles.
“jus’ happy to see my baby, m’kay? ‘s that so bad?” he sings, a sickly sweet little tone that almost has you playfully rolling your eyes when he sticks his tongue out at you. but you’re not immune to him, not at all — as you bring up the edge of the comforter, inviting him to finally crawl in beside you like you’ve been waiting for all night.
but bachira’s just as clingy as he is eager when he almost bounces into the bed beside you, his hands quick to grab at your waist before he’s pulling you close enough to be able to pepper your face in wet kisses. “awww, did you miss me that much, mhm? couldn’t wait to cuddle, huh? so cute.”
he’s such a tease as you try to push him away, giggling as he bathes you in ticklish presses of his lips and squeezes at the your waist until you’re wriggling into him. but he still sends you a giddy sort of grin when you finally surrender and let him pull you in for a tight little hug.
you’re both panting when bachira finally lets you breathe, sending you a smug sort of grin before he’s leaning in to press one last loud kiss against your lips, nuzzling into your chest a few moments later as his arms squeeze around you.
“knew it~ you only had to ask, baby. just wanted to hold you a little, that’s all.”
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・✶ 。゚MIKAGE REO
“you tired, bunny?” reo smirks from where hes tilting his head at you from the kitchen, swallowing back the rest of his protein shake as you lie curled up on the almost ridiculously sized couch hes got in the living room.
“i’m tired.” your voice is quiet, muffled from where your cheek is resting against the cushion and the blanket that’s so huge and fluffy it almost consumes you completely. you can basically feel the raise of your boyfriend’s brow when he breathes out a laugh, resting down his shaker bottle before hes drawing closer.
it’s almost instinct the way your eyes trail over to his figure, taking in the sight of him before you’re lifting up the edge of the blanket invitingly, and the gesture only seems to make reo’s smirk tug even wider as his lidded gaze drinks you up. “alright, i’ll allow it. how about i help you out with that?”
it’s careful the way he climbs in beside you before he’s taking your figure in his large hands, pulling you up until you’re resting pretty against his chest as one of his hands smooth down the length of your spine soothingly. you already feel like melting with the way his natural warmth consumes you, the only thing keeping you from dozing off completely being the light press of reo’s fingers under your chin to tilt your face towards his.
he’s close, close enough for his lips to already be ghosting your own when you look up — his gaze on yours as he continues the motions of his fingers across your skin. “how’s that, bunny? feel better?” his voice is low and smooth, and the sound almost makes your eyes flutter when he’s deliberately leaning closer, grazing his lips along yours as he breathes out another chuckle — his gaze dropping to your lips expectantly before they’re back on your own.
“good, right? better thank me.. yeah?”
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© 2022 garoujo. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.
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justmediocrewriting · 8 months
Text
“White Lace,” {v.s}
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Summary: it’s laundry day on the Merry, and ever the gentleman, Sanji offered to take Nami’s place when the navigator explained that she was too exhausted to attend to the chore. Sanji expected to simply find a sore back and pruny fingers by doing so, but instead he found much more…
Or: Sanji finds a pair of your white lace underwear, and you catch him in the middle of washing them, resulting in some tension and embarrassment between the both of you.
Genre: spice (no smut, but dirty thoughts and suggestive themes)
Pairing: Sanji x fem!reader
Word Count: 2.8k
Requested: ❌
Warnings: I kinda feel this could fall under voyeurism to an extent, because Sanji does find a pair of your panties and kind of like plays with them, so maybe it does? Idk. Some rather not-so-innocent thoughts from Sanji, sexualization, very slight virginity kink if you squint really hard, panty sniffing, panty licking, sexual tension(ish?), female pronouns and parts mentioned
A/n: so I’ve got roughly 10+ things in my drafts right now but this literally WOULD NOT LEAVE ME ALONE, so I knew I had to write it. I hope you hoes enjoy ❤️ might do a part 2 idkkkk. 18+ under the cut, ye have been warned.
{=================================}
Sanji found comfort in routine. For some, a humdrum life would become quickly boring, but for Sanji repetition was key to his sanity. It was the main reason that Sanji was so fluidly quick in creating a new routine from the first day he’d agreed to set sail with Luffy — that and that it had helped cure the insistent anxiety of being at sea again after so many years of remaining stationary.
Sanji greatly disliked breaking routine unless the situation absolutely called for it; a battle, for example, or in this morning’s case, a beautiful woman asking him for help.
Sanji enjoyed routine, but he enjoyed satisfying women a lot more.
So when Nami had entered the galley, hair mussed and eyes hazy and unfocused with a small basket of laundry perched delicately on her hip, Sanji was quick to abandon the first step of his daily routine (taking inventory of the galley stock) and pluck the basket from her arm.
Nami sighed gratefully and her shoulders slumped with relief.
“Thanks, Sanji.” Nami muttered, voice heavy with exhaustion, and Sanji felt his heart lurch with sympathy. It wasn’t as though he was a stranger to fatigue.
“I spent most of the night drawing the charts to the next few islands. I guess I got so wrapped up in it I just hadn’t noticed how much time had passed.”
Sanji nodded along to her explanation as he gently set the basket of clothes atop the island counter, and in the process he inadvertently let his eyes skim across the articles within. Colors popped against one another, like a cluttered rainbow of pinks, blues, whites, reds, and teals — from what Sanji could see they were mostly shirts.
“Laundry day, aye?” Sanji asked conversationally, tearing his eyes from the basket to smile at Nami. She groaned and brought a hand up to massage the back of her neck as she nodded.
“Yeah. There’s a few of my shirts in there, but it’s mostly (Y/N)’s clothes. She washed mine last week, so I agreed to wash hers this week.”
Sanji frowned and appraised the tired woman before him; it pained him to see a woman like Nami having to work so hard. He’d always felt that life at sea, what with so much to maintain, was far too harsh for a lady — ladies were meant to be spoiled and taken care of, at least in Sanji’s eyes. Nami had chosen a life at sea, and Sanji knew that with this decision she’d long accepted the responsibilities of such, and he had no doubt that Nami could handle it, but if Sanji could do something to help relieve her of some of the work he would.
“I can take care of it for you, if you want.” Sanji said, and Nami’s eyes snapped open. She looked equal parts relieved and panicked by his offer, and she hesitated for a moment before shaking her head.
“No, Sanji, I couldn’t ask that of you. You’ve already got enough on your plate.” Nami murmured, and then, as if it were an afterthought, she added, “we all do.”
Sanji rolled his shoulders in dismissal of her worry. “You’re not asking, love. I’m offering. And I’m not too terribly busy; it’s still early, so I’ll have plenty of time to prep breakfast before Luffy wakes up.”
Nami bit her lip, and she looked minutely closer to accepting the offer, but there was still a hardened hesitation in her eyes. Sanji smiled ever gently at her.
“It’s alright, Nami. Why not go back to your quarters and rest for a bit? I’ll take care of this.”
Finally, Nami sighed and relented to acceptance. With a small but grateful nod, she gave Sanji a tired smile before turning on her heel to exit the galley; before she did so, she placed a manicured hand against the door frame and sent him one last glance.
“Really, Sanji, thank you. Once you’re done washing them you don’t have to worry about hanging them to dry; just come get me and I’ll do that.” And with that Nami breezed from the galley, and Sanji gave a small chuckle at her attempt to take some of the load off of him. Even if it was Nami’s turn to do the laundry as was her responsibility, Sanji wouldn’t allow her to set them to dry — he’d do that himself, as well; and he even set it in his mind that he’d fold them as well.
It wasn’t until Sanji pulled out the first shirt that he began to feel as though he shouldn’t have offered his help; because the fabric in his hand was familiar, and it dawned on him that the majority of the clothes in the basket were yours. It was a detail that Sanji had skimmed by when Nami was explaining the situation, and now the reality of it was hitting him like a ton of bricks.
Sanji’s skin prickled as if he were committing the most atrocious sin, and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself. The shirt in his hand was one of your favorites; you’d worn it a lot, and just looking at the rumpled article supplied Sanji with various memories of you donning it. It looked rather pleasant on you, especially when the hem of it rose slightly to reveal the smallest sliver of skin when you moved in just the right way, and Sanji had to quickly place it back in the basket and take a deep inhale to staunch the blood flowing towards his groin.
Sanji’s attraction to you was something that he vaguely felt might be out of hand; he was a lover of women, yes, but never had he experienced a pull as strong as the one he had towards you. Maybe it was the way innocence practically poured from your aura, or the way your cheeks brightened with any pet name or compliment he offered you, as if such attention was a completely new experience for you — whatever it was, it was highly alluring to Sanji, and he found himself wanting more and more of it – of you – every day.
Sanji flared his nostrils a few more times, every breath deep and steadying, repeatedly telling himself that he wasn’t doing anything wrong and his intentions were of the best, and to get a fucking grip, Sanji. Just wash the clothes and be normal!
As he relocated the basket next to the sink and pulled out a pale yellow shirt Sanji deliberately tried to focus his thoughts on anything other than the fact that he was touching your clothes, that you’d worn them and they’d clung to your skin and more than likely smelled of you, of that wonderful floral perfume that was subtle but nearly overpowering in close proximity — that thought alone had Sanji itching to bring the fabric to his nose and inhale, and he had to quickly turn the faucet on and shove the article beneath the stream of water to avoid doing so.
Piece by piece, mechanically and as empty headed as possible, Sanji soaked and washed the clothes under the stream of water, wringing each article out generously to avoid the chance of mildew. By the time he was half way through the basket, Sanji felt confident that he could get through the process without too much trouble (or too many inappropriate thoughts or southward flowing blood); but that was quickly wiped from his psyche when he mindlessly groped within the basket and laid touch to something soft and small and lacy.
Upon pulling it out to examine it, Sanji was hit with a flush of arousal so strong that it nearly knocked him off his feet; gripped within his fingers, soft and lacy and so, so delicate looking, was a pair of white, sheer panties. Sanji’s entire being short circuited, train of thought screeching to a halt and brain being instead assaulted by a myriad of images — of those sheer white panties clinging to your hips, cupping the swell of your ass in such a tantalizing way, hem resting against your tummy and rising in time with your labored breaths as Sanji picked you apart molecule by molecule —
“Stop,” Sanji hissed to himself, cursing his traitorous dick when it hardened to half mast in his dress pants, twitching in approval with each new image and thought that flashed into his hind brain. Sanji knew he should look away, knew he could stop these reactions if he just put the panties away, abandoned the task and fetched Nami instead to finish it — and though Sanji swore to himself that he wouldn’t do that due to his pride as a gentleman, the deepest part of him knew that he wasn’t going to do it because he was curious, and he was enjoying this, as much as that fact ashamed him.
Panties were one of the most, if not the most, intimate articles of clothing a woman could wear; they covered the sweetest fruit, kept it protected and out of sight, and they constantly shifted and hugged that sensitive pearl beneath. They were precious, and the fact that they belonged to you made them even more so.
Sanji nearly groaned at the thought; he could so clearly see you wearing the panties, see the way they hugged against your pussy, could imagine just how drenched the center would get as he worked you into oblivion with his lips —
Sanji opened the panties and this time, a groan did slip past his lips — because right there, in the center of the bridge of the panties, right where they would cling to your pussy, the fabric was slightly darker, and Sanji’s dick jumped at the sight. The overwhelming urge to shove them against his nose and breathe in the phantom traces of your slick sent alternating waves of arousal and intense shame through Sanji, because that was dirty, these panties were dirty, they were yours and it would be such an abuse of your trust in him if he did something like that — but the longer he stared, the stronger the urge became, and soon enough arousal had completely consumed shame, and Sanji quickly brought the panties to his face, shoving his nose directly into the center and inhaling. Sanji panted heavily against the fabric as the sweet scent entered his nostrils; it was faint, as he’d assumed it would be, but it was there, and it was so much sweeter than Sanji could have ever imagined.
Sanji pressed his hips into the counter as he took in lungfuls of your scent, hissing lowly at the pressure against the straining bulge in his pants, hips moving just so to chase a semblance of friction — consumed by sudden lust and the thought of you, the scent of you, and the urge to taste where you were sweetest, Sanji laved his tongue against the dried patch of slick, moaning haughtily into the softness of your panties.
Sanji’s surroundings and reality seemed to completely melt away as he lost himself within the sensations of smelling and tasting you, something he so longed for — just as much as he longed to corrupt you, to show you all the naughty things he shouldn’t, like he longed to see you wearing these panties, so innocent and white, and see them become forever stained from actions that were too devious and sinful for such a color.
Sanji wanted to stain you — he wanted your innocent little brain to fog over with lust, to see you discombobulate on his cock as he stretched you wide, as he took you to heights you’d never been, watch those beautiful eyes of yours roll back and watch you bare that lovely neck to him, to bite and mark and cover, to claim you, inside and out.
Sanji let out a guttaral groan as his hips picked up speed; the counter was firm and hard against his cock, a far cry from the soft, wet warmth he craved to be buried inside, but it offered friction, and with how hard his cock was, that’s what he needed, even if it was a bit unpleasant.
As consumed as he was by the myriad of sensations stoking his arousal, the soft rapping of knuckles against the wooden doorframe of the galley was almost lost on him; but thankfully, his ears had picked it up, and as if they had burned him, Sanji threw the panties into the sink below him. There was a soft splat against the steel, and Sanji winced as he realized the bridge of the panties had been soaked with his saliva — thankfully, the sound was too faint to be heard from the doorway, and the relief that offered Sanji increased tenfold as he turned to look over his shoulder and caught sight of you.
Sanji’s breath caught in his throat, and nearly all traces of arousal had been chased away by deep-seated shame, and Sanji did his best to smile at you through the guilt.
“Good morning, love. Is there something you need?” Sanji forced his voice to stay calm despite the sheer panic and guilt threatening to weigh it down; Sanji’s heart was thundering within his chest, battering against his ribcage with the force of a raging bull, and he willed his erection to just go away —
But his dick was not cooperating with him, and it stayed rock hard within his pants as you smiled back shyly and began to approach him; as you turned the corner of the island counter, Sanji belatedly realized that you had a small basket tucked under your arm, with a few articles of clothing within.
“Nothing much, Sanji. Nami told me you were helping with the laundry today, and I found these in our room so I thought I’d bring them in and offer you some help—”
Sanji watched with growing dread as you paused just a couple inches from the sink, your eyes zeroing in on the panties within and widening as your mouth dropped into an ‘o’ shape (which did not help with his erection, as his mind went to very shadowy places from the sight), and your cheeks went from normal to beet red in seconds (which also didn’t help, because it was far too pretty of a color on you).
Heavy, awkward silence fell over the galley as you stared, frozen, at the sink — Sanji wanted to look away from you, knew that you were far beyond embarrassed right now and that his staring was certainly not helping, but he simply couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Arousal was still thrumming beneath his skin, and it was like seeing you in a whole new light; knowing that those sweet, innocent, pretty panties belonged to you, that you’d worn them, that they sat snugly against your pussy and became saturated in you, in your innocence, had his dick twitching and fingers itching to pull your body flush against his. He wanted to see you wearing them for him, wanted you to bend over and present to him, so that he could see the outline of your pussy, soaked and ready, through the fabric —
Sanji inhaled sharply and tore his eyes away from you, and part of him wanted to stutter out an apology, beg for your forgiveness — he was being so shameful, sexualizing you objectifying you in the way he was, craving to take away your innocence, something that was so deeply ingrained into who you were —
But the words were stuck in his throat, unable to move past the lump of sheer shame and regret, and even if they could, would Sanji really have the courage to admit what he’d done, let alone apologize for it?
He truly didn’t know if he would.
Sanji’s actions had been so unbecoming, had went against the very essence of his code — but that was just the simple fact of it; you had this effect on him, a tendency to bring out the worst in him. And if Sanji were being honest with himself, he enjoyed it. He secretly loved the fact that you could draw that dormant beast from its slumber, all without even knowing you were doing it.
“Those, um… those are…” to Sanji’s surprise, it was your voice that broke the silence, and though he knew it would only stir him up more, Sanji snapped his eyes to you. You vehemently ignored any eye contact with him, gaze still locked on the sink, and in the blink of an eye with movements that were much faster than Sanji’s fuddled mind could perceive, your hand shot out and you ripped the panties from the sink, throwing them hastily into the basket before resituating it on your hip.
“I’ll w-wash these later,” you mumbled, cheeks still flaming, and Sanji hated the way his dick twitched at the sight. It was such a show of innocent bashfulness that it made Sanji heat from the inside out. Finally, you made the briefest of eye contact with him and gave him a small nod. “Carry on.”
Then you were turning on your heel and swiftly exiting the galley, leaving Sanji alone with his own thoughts, a half empty laundry basket, and a roaring flame of shame and guilt that Sanji didn’t think could ever be doused.
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foldingfittedsheets · 2 months
Note
Hey! If you don't mind sharing, I'd be interested to hear more about your chronic illness diagnosis journey (I also get that it can be a private thing!).
I've been struggling for the last 5 or so years with chronic fatigue, muscle weakness, muscle pain and brain fog, and my doctors have checked a bunch of different things. EBV, thyroid, vitamin D, "are you sure you're not just depressed" and they've now gone for ME/CFS. A part of that just doesn't feel right to me because I feel like they should have done more tests or walked me through alternatives before settling! Especially because it fluctuates so much. Sometimes I can't leave the house, sometimes I have to borrow a wheelchair if I'm in a shop, sometimes I can walk 5000 steps??
Love and support for you and your gluten free adventure - potatoes, rice and polenta tend to be pretty good for me when I want something bready! (Doesn't quite hit the spot as well as buttered toast does though...)
My decline was really painfully gradual. I didn’t realize why things were getting so much harder. It manifested first with friction between my beloved because they were frustrated I was always too tired to run little errands myself. I went to the doctor and talked about my fatigue but was assured I was fine. I went on Chinese herbs and they buoyed up my reserves so I could keep functioning.
That went on for months, just getting more and more tired. I’d wake up sobbing because I wasn’t any more rested than I’d gone to bed. I went to a new doctor at that point. I got diagnosed with anemia until my blood work came back normal and then I was told I was fine.
Then I started fainting. My hair was falling out. I went to a different doctor. She ran my blood. I got told I was fine, but that maybe I had a food allergy. She slapped me with a full elimination diet that broke my spirit. I did feel some minor improvement but I wasn’t healthy by any means.
Finally, my good friend who is a doctor said that’s enough. She was in a different state but she was furious that I wasn’t getting any help. She ran my blood on a bunch of different ailment tests that were less well known. She tested for antibodies to EBV. If you have over 20 they consider you to have an active infection.
I had over 700 which is when they stop bothering to count.
I was so chock full of virus I was pound for pound virus by that point.
Then came the hard part. Knowing you’re bursting at the seams with a virus doesn’t make it easy to treat. The virus was living in me, in my cells. Too much of the medication and my body would start siccing it’s defenses against its own tissue.
I went on a bonanza of supplements. There was syrups to boost energy, pills to increase my immune system, antivirals, iron and vitamin D because those were kinda low. It was a three times a day regime of medicines.
My initial dose of antiviral was too high. I experienced a pain unlike what any mortal should bear as a result, dropping to the ground to writhe in agony when it hit. My dosage got lowered and my progress crept along.
I started school sometime in there and barely kept my head afloat above coursework. My stress load from school correlated to how much energy I had and I longed to finish my degree and just prioritize feeling better.
Then things got worse. My original doctor friend let her prescription rights for my state lapse, it didn’t make financial sense to keep them. A different friend from yet another state wrote my antivirals for a while but eventually I needed a new doctor.
I found another, this time a naturopathic doctor like my friends, hoping I’d keep receiving good care in that scope of practice. I didn’t. I had the most painful blood draw of my life in her office, writhing in agony, then didn’t hear back from her. I got ghosted by my doctor. When I pestered her for results she wrote me a script for antivirals but that was all.
I’d find out about eight months later when my health was declining and my friends demanded to see my blood work that my iron had been dangerously low but she hadn’t bothered to tell me. I got on iron supplements and staggered along.
Through precision time management I could budget my functional time into schoolwork then collapse to recuperate. It was working, but barely.
When my scrip on antivirals ran out I hunted once again for a doctor. This time I’d realized that any good care I’d gotten was when I’d made a personal connection with the doctor, a rare privilege not many people got. So I sought out a friend of a friend, someone I’d seen on occasion in the doctory social circle.
I have never been more happy with a doctor. She tested my viral numbers and pronounced herself satisfied that it was in check but was suspicious that although my thyroid numbers always looked normal that something was going on there. She ran more tests and lo. A thyroid imbalance.
Around that time I’d sunk into needing the chair. I stopped functioning, it was almost as bad as my first collapse. And yet again the fun part of getting my thyroid in balance was a delicate balance of making sure I wasn’t taking too much and hurting myself.
That balancing act took about a year to stabilize. I was still so weak from years of fatigue and inactivity. An able bodied person cannot imagine how hard it is to build up from ground zero on all your muscles. And the worst part was any time I felt tired I was terrified I was going to slip back down into the depths of exhaustion.
Then my beloved and I got Wyvern the puppy. And before we realized we had both somehow developed allergies to dogs and had to break our hearts giving him up, he saved me the last time.
Potty training meant I had to get up every two hours to take him out. I didn’t have to walk far but I had to do it consistently. Every single day I’d go to bed aching in every muscle, terrified to wake up. But every day I woke up with energy and was able to do it again.
It was like puppy boot camp, and I was able to go longer and farther every walk. By the time we realized we couldn’t keep him I was mobile again, I hadn’t needed my chair at all. When we said goodbye to him I promised I wouldn’t lose the progress he helped me make.
Now I finally, for the first time in six years, feel healthy again. I can go on long walks, I can run little errands for my beloved, I can fill my days with activity and wake up to do it again the next day. It’s the most amazing thing.
I hope you can stumble upon a doctor who can listen to you and help you. I know how hard things can get, but sometimes they can get better.
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weirdkpopgirl · 7 months
Text
Embrace | Haechan Imagine #8
Title: Embrace
Genre: Fluff, slight angst
Warnings: vague mentions of reader struggling with insomnia
Word Count: 616
Author's Note: This story was inspired by my bad habit of not going to sleep, even when I'm tired lol. It's not like I do it on purpose, but my mind just cries out for a distraction sometimes. I don't know how to explain it. Anyway if any of you can relate to this, I hope this story can give you some comfort ^ ^
─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─
In the quiet space of your apartment, you were sprawled out on the couch as your thumb absentmindedly scrolled through the world of social media. Every so often, your eyes subconsciously flickered to the time on the left corner of the screen, reminding you that one a.m. was now closely bordering two.
The back of your mind was screaming at you to go to sleep, thinking of all the things you were supposed to do the following day. Yet, the apprehension of not being able to fall asleep made you hesitate. The fear wasn’t large, but enough to keep you trapped in the scrolling abyss, a dance between fatigue and distraction.
Eventually, you heard the soft echoes of your boyfriend’s slippers padding against the wooden floor, drawing him closer to where you were stationed. Rubbing his eyes, he approached you with a slight frown on his lips. 
“Baby, it’s late. Why are you still up?” Haechan murmured with a touch of concern in his voice. 
Although he was accustomed to being awake in the odd hours due to his work, seeing you deviate from a regular sleep schedule puzzled him.
You glanced up at him with weary eyes. “Just can’t seem to quiet my mind,” you muttered with a small shrug.
Haechan sighed as he witnessed you fight back a yawn. He moved to sit beside you for a moment and gently removed your phone from your hands and set it down on the coffee table.
“Come on, let’s go to bed,” he said, taking your hand in his. “Maybe I can help you relax.”
Reluctantly, you gave in and allowed him to guide you to the bedroom. The subtle glow of the lamp on your nightstand casted a gentle ambiance in the room. Once you were tucked under the soft comforter, Haechan settled down beside you.
“Close your eyes, baby,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around you in a comfortable position. 
His lips brushed against your temple, sending a tingling shock down your spine. The warmth of his touch prompted you to snuggle closer, your head finding the perfect spot on his chest. The echoes of his steady heartbeat were calming and the warmth of his embrace gradually melted away any troublesome thoughts that lingered within you.
You let out a heavy exhale before mumbling, “You really have a way of making everything feel okay.”
Haechan chuckled and brushed back a lock of hair behind your ear. The corners of his lips curled into a small smirk.
“Of course, you just happen to have the most caring, loving, and devastatingly handsome boyfriend,” he said, flashing you a teasing smile.
You knew he was only joking. But as his words sank in through your mind, you recognized the truth in them. The longer you were with Haechan, the more you realized that you didn’t know what you’d do without him in your life.
Instinctively, your hand drifted to cradle his face, lightly tracing over the moles adorning his cheek. Gazing into his eyes, a sense of vulnerability washed over you.
“You’re right. I do,” you quietly admitted.
Caught off guard by your serious response, Haechan’s heart ached at your simple words. This overwhelming surge of deep love and affection he had for you hit him all at once. Without holding back, he leaned in to capture your lips in a tender kiss. You stayed like this for a while, before breaking away with a smile. The two of you eventually succumbed to sleep, peacefully nestled in each other’s embrace.
─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─❀*̥˚─
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Hi hun. If you’re taking requests could you write something about dadrry maybe something where they have another baby and their first kid starts to act out and get jealous.
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Jealous Baby Styles.
masterlist || ask me anything <3
blurb masterlist is here.
word count -
in which, five days ago, you and harry welcomed another little baby into the world, but the blissful baby bubble isn’t all it turns out to be when you have a toddler as well.
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Sitting on the cosy sofa with your husband, Harry, and your four-year-old daughter, Marlie, you find yourselves in a whirlwind of emotions and exhaustion. Just five days ago, you and Harry welcomed your precious baby boy, Billie, into the world. As you sit together, Marlie is the furthest away from you, engrossed in her iPad, while you hold Billie close in your arms.
At this moment, you're dressed in nothing but a sports bra and shorts, accompanied by a postpartum nappy that reminds you of the physical toll your body has endured. Your hair, untamed and unwashed, reflects the lack of time you've had for self-care since Billie's arrival. The need for a shower looms over you, but finding the time seems impossible.
The exhaustion is palpable, etched onto your face and seeping into your bones. Five days of little sleep have taken their toll, as you struggle to get more than three hours of rest at a time. Napping is a luxury you can't afford, for you have a toddler to look after alongside your newborn.
Despite the weariness, there's a deep sense of joy and fulfilment within your heart. As you sit on the sofa, the love in the room wraps around you, providing strength amidst the exhaustion. Harry's gaze is filled with admiration and unwavering support, offering reassurance in this challenging phase. Marlie occasionally glances up from her digital world to shower her baby brother with smiles, a testament to the bond forming between them.
Amidst the chaos and messiness of this phase, you find solace in the unity of your family. The sacrifices you make—sleepless nights, dishevelled appearance—are small prices to pay for the overwhelming love and fulfilment that parenthood brings. You draw strength from each other's presence, knowing that this stage, although demanding, is temporary.
You find yourself dozing off on the sofa, the weight of fatigue pulling at your eyelids as Billie rests peacefully in your arms. Just as sleep threatens to overtake you, your husband speaks up.
"Hey, love," Harry gently says, his voice breaking through your drowsiness. "Y'should go upstairs and lie down for a while."
You stir, feeling torn. As a breastfeeding mother, you can’t help but worry that Billie might wake up hungry and need a feed. The thought of leaving him even for a short while makes you hesitant.
"But what if 'he needs to eat?" You express your concern, looking at Harry with tired eyes.
Harry's reassuring voice comforts you. "Don't worry, darlin'. There's pumped milk in the fridge. If 'e gets hungry, I'll take care of it."
Your mind races, contemplating the logistics of it all. Harry would have to manage both Marlie and Billie while you catch up on some much-needed rest. It feels overwhelming', but Harry remains steadfast.
"I don't get up for the night feeds because y'breastfeed 'im," Harry reminds you. "I'm only responsible for changin' nappies. Y'deserve a nap. Let me handle things for a while."
Reluctantly, you give in, nodding your head in agreement. The weight of exhaustion and the realisation that you desperately need rest outweigh your concerns. Trusting Harry to care for both Marlie and Billie, you surrender to the idea of stealing' a precious moment of sleep.
And with that nod, the scene concludes, leaving you with the anticipation of the rest you so desperately need.
Once you've nodded, Harry gently takes Billie from your tired arms, causing the little one to stir slightly at the movement. With a soft whisper of reassurance, Harry slowly lowers him into the cozy bassinet placed in the front room.
"Don't worry, mate," Harry whispers to Billie, his voice soothing. "I've just gotta help y’mama get upstairs. You'll be alright."
Meanwhile, Harry turns his attention to Marlie, who is engrossed in her playtime on her ipad. "Marlie, m’love," he says, trying to engage her. "Y’keep an eye on y’baby brother, alright?"
Marlie, fully immersed in her imaginative world, remains focused on her screen and doesn't respond to Harry's words. However, both you and Harry are too preoccupied with ensuring a smooth transition upstairs to give much thought to her lack of response.
Harry offers his strong and supportive arm, helping you up each step of the staircase. You're still feeling the lingering discomfort from giving birth, and his gentle whispers of reassurance provide a comforting backdrop to your ascent.
"It's alright, m’love," Harry murmurs, his voice filled with tenderness. "Just take it easy. We'll get y’settled in no time."
As you reach the top of the stairs, Harry guides you into the peaceful sanctuary of your master bedroom. He lovingly pulls back the soft duvet, creating a welcoming space for you to find comfort. With careful attention, he assists you in getting cosy, ensuring you're nestled in just the right way.
Leaning down, Harry presses a tender kiss to the top of your head, a gesture filled with love and support. His presence is a soothing balm, reminding you that you're not alone in this journey.
"Rest well, m’beautiful," Harry whispers, his voice carrying a mix of affection and concern. "Is there anything else y’need before I head back downstairs?"
Taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you assure him that you have everything you require nearby. The essentials are within reach, and you're grateful for his attentiveness.
"No, I think I have everything I need," you reply, feeling the warmth of his care enveloping you. "Thank you, baby."
With a final loving gaze, Harry bids you farewell and heads back down the stairs. You watch him go, appreciating the support he provides as he tends to the needs of your growing family.
As Harry descends the stairs, a cheerful voice calls out to him, filling the house with excitement. It's Marlie, eager to have her daddy join in the playtime fun.
"Daddy, come play with me!" Marlie's voice resonates through the living room, brimming with anticipation.
Harry's heart melts at his daughter's request. With the arrival of their baby boy, he recognizes the importance of making sure Marlie feels loved and included. A warm smile spreads across his face as he joins her on the floor, ready to embark on a Barbie-filled adventure.
"F’course, sweetheart!" Harry replies, his voice infused with enthusiasm. "Who do we have here today? What's your Barbie's name?"
Marlie giggles with delight, holding up a doll with a vibrant purple dress. "This is Princess Lily!" she exclaims, her eyes shining with excitement.
Harry joins in the fun, adopting a high-pitched voice for his Barbie doll. "Well, hello there, Princess Lily! It's an honor to meet you. Shall we go on a grand quest together?"
Marlie claps her hands, her imagination taking flight. "Yes, Daddy! Princess Lily needs to find the hidden treasure in the enchanted forest!"
And so, father and daughter dive into the world of make-believe, crafting intricate storylines and creating magical moments. Their voices fill the room as they bring their Barbie dolls to life, each character imbued with unique personalities and aspirations.
Harry leans into the role, using exaggerated gestures and a playful tone to captivate Marlie's imagination. "Princess Lily, fear not! With my trusty unicorn steed, we shall journey through the enchanted forest and overcome any challenges that come our way!"
Marlie's eyes sparkle with delight as she continues the story. "Yes, Daddy! And Princess Lily is brave and kind, just like you!"
Harry's heart swells with pride, cherishing these precious moments with his daughter. As they play, their laughter fills the air, creating a symphony of joy and connection.
As the game unfolds, Marlie introduces new twists and turns, each narrative becoming more whimsical than the last. Harry is fully engaged, actively listening and responding to Marlie's ideas, allowing her creativity to flourish.
"Daddy, look! Princess Lily found a magic wand!" Marlie exclaims, waving a tiny plastic wand in the air.
Harry gasps dramatically. "Oh my goodness, Princess Lily! With that magic wand, you can bring smiles to everyone's faces and spread happiness throughout the kingdom!"
Their playtime continues, with Harry and Marlie exploring the depths of their imagination. They share laughter, engage in heartfelt conversations, and build a bond that transcends the mere moments spent on the floor.
As the playtime reaches its vibrant peak, a sudden cry pierces the air, interrupting the magical atmosphere. Billie, nestled in his bassinet, demands attention, and Harry knows he must momentarily step away to tend to his newborn son.
"Mar, m’love, I need to go check on Billie for a moment," Harry gently explains, his voice filled with concern. "He's crying, and I have to make sure he's alright."
Marlie's face scrunches up, her brows furrowing in protest. "No, Daddy! Stay and play with me!" she pleads, her voice tinged with disappointment.
Harry sighs, torn between the needs of his two children. He longs to grant Marlie's request, to stay and continue their joyful playtime. However, his paternal instincts compel him to ensure Billie's well-being.
"M’promise, sweetheart, it won't take long," Harry reassures Marlie, trying to ease her disappointment. "I just need to see if Billie needs some comforting. I'll be right back."
With a heavy heart, Harry makes his way to Billie's bassinet, his footsteps filled with a sense of urgency. As he reaches the bassinet, a pungent smell wafts through the air, indicating that Billie's nappy needs changing.
"Oh, baby darling, did y’make a poo?" Harry chuckles softly, carefully lifting Billie into his arms. "Let's get you to the changing table and sort this out."
Carrying Billie over to the changing table nestled in the corner of the room, Harry sets him down gently, his eyes filled with adoration for his newborn son. As he begins the task of changing Billie's nappy, Harry maintains a soothing and comforting tone, engaging in heartfelt conversation with his little bundle of joy.
"Alright, little man, let's get this nappy changed," Harry murmurs softly, his voice filled with warmth. "You know, Billie, you have the best big sister in the world. Marlie loves you so much, just like I love my sister, Gemma."
As Harry carefully cleans and wipes, he continues to share stories and whispers of love, creating a bond between father and son. He narrates tales of the adventures Marlie and Billie will embark upon, painting a vivid picture of a future filled with laughter, support, and sibling camaraderie
"You and Marlie are going to be the best of friends," Harry assures Billie, a twinkle of anticipation in his eyes. "Just like how Gemma and I have been there for each other through thick and thin, you and Marlie will have a lifelong friendship."
While Harry is engrossed in the intimate interaction with Billie, he remains unaware of Marlie's presence on the floor, her Barbie dolls momentarily forgotten. Tears stream down her face, her heart yearning for her father's undivided attention. She watches as Harry and Billie share this tender moment, her emotions running deep.
Harry carefully fastens a fresh nappy around Billie, stealing a glance at his son's cherubic face. Little does Harry know, the tender moment he shares with Billie coincides with Marlie's emotional outburst, leaving a trail of tears in her wake.
As Harry finishes the nappy change and turns his attention back to the room, he realizes that Marlie is no longer in sight. Concern fills his heart, and he quickly secures Billie in his bassinet, ensuring his comfort and safety. Gently, Harry rocks the bassinet back and forth, using the soothing motion to lull Billie into a peaceful slumber.
Once satisfied that Billie is settled, Harry grabs the baby monitor, clutching it tightly in his hand. With each step, he follows the faint trail of Marlie's sobs, determined to find her and offer the comfort she so desperately needs.
As he steps into the serene garden, the soft breeze rustles the leaves of Marlie's favorite tree. His gaze searches the tranquil space until he spots her huddled beneath the branches, her tear-streaked face illuminated by the golden sunlight. Harry's heart aches at the sight, knowing the depth of her emotions.
Silently, Harry approaches Marlie, his steps careful and deliberate. He takes a moment to compose himself, wanting to offer her solace and reassurance. With a gentle touch, he sits beside her, enveloping her in a warm embrace that conveys his love and understanding.
With a gentle touch, Harry sits beside Marlie under the comforting shade of her favourite tree. He wraps his arm around her trembling shoulders, offering a sense of security and warmth. But as he does, Marlie tries to crawl away, clearly upset with him.
Harry's heart sinks at her attempt to distance herself, understanding the depth of her emotions. "Marlie, m’love," he says softly, his voice filled with compassion. "Y’don't have to say anything if you don't want to. I'm here, and I'll sit with you."
Silence settles between them as they sit side by side. The tranquillity of the garden envelops them, granting them a moment of respite from the weight of their emotions.
After several minutes, Marlie slowly crawls into Harry's lap, her tiny fingers playing with the cross necklace dangling from his neck. She hesitantly begins to speak, her voice soft and fragile.
"I didn't mean to get upset," Marlie whispers, her eyes cast down.
Harry's hand continues to rub soothingly up and down her back. "It's alright, m’heart. What upset you? Y’can tell me."
Marlie shrugs her shoulders, her words barely audible. "I don't want to be forgotten."
A wave of realisation washes over Harry as he comprehends the root of Marlie's anguish. He holds her tighter, understanding the fear that lingers in her young heart.
"Oh, sweetheart," Harry murmurs, his voice filled with tenderness. "I'm so sorry if it feels like Billie is taking me and mama away from you. That's not his intention at all, it’s because he’s a baby that he needs a lot of our time, you were like that when you were his size."
Marlie's tears continue to flow as she searches for the right words. "I don't like my baby brother," she confesses, her voice filled with a mixture of sadness and confusion. "He keeps taking you away from me."
Harry's heart aches as he absorbs Marlie's words. He continues to hold her, rubbing her back in gentle circles.
"I understand, m’heart," Harry whispers, his voice tinged with regret. "When I was born, Aunt Gemma must have felt the same way. But y’know what? Mama and I love both of y’so much. We're going to spend lots of time with both of you, making sure you both feel special."
Marlie looks up at Harry, her tear-stained face searching for reassurance. "Really?"
Harry nods, his eyes filled with sincerity. "Absolutely. Tonight, you can sleep in our bed, and we'll have a special time together. Mama, you, Billie, and me."
And with that promise hanging in the air, the weight of their emotions begins to lift. Harry holds Marlie tightly, hoping to mend the cracks in her tender heart. Under the sheltering embrace of the favourite tree, they sit together, finding solace in their love for one another.
“Now,”Harry pushed some curls away from her face and stared into the matching eyes of his little girl. “How about we go make mama some cupcakes for when she wakes up, just me and you whilst baby brother sleeps?”
Marlie’s eyes lit up, nodding her head as she snuggled her face into the crook of her fathers neck. “Just us?”
“Just us.”
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bunnycatalina · 4 days
Text
LaDS head cannon: How the guys react to MC freaking out about a missed period
Content warnings: Fem MC | Pregnancy/Pregnancy scare, breeding kink (mentioned)
With the recent uptick of wanders appearing in Linkon, you honestly hadn’t thought much about how tired you’ve been recently. You’ve been getting nauseous for the past week but figured it was just the flu that has been going around the Hunter’s Association. It wasn’t till a notification from your period tracking app prompted you about logging your period that you realised that it was late. After days of trying to convince yourself you’re just late from the stress at work lately, you finally cave and went to buy some pregnancy tests while freaking out about how to bring it up to your boyfriend.
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ZAYNE
- He noticed that you’ve been avoiding him these past two weeks, usually you’d jump at the chance to meet up when you both manage to find free time between both your hectic schedules
- Your text messages has been rather short as well and Zayne was starting to wonder if he had done something wrong but you had assured him that everything was fine.
- Preferring to handle this directly, Zayne turns up at your apartment after work that night to talk to you about it after receiving a text from you that you just got home from another case.
- “Zayne?” You looked rather bewildered and frazzled when you opened the door to find zayne standing outside. You could see his eyes darting about your face, cataloging any signs of you possibly feeling unwell or upset. Seeing that you looked unharmed, albeit exhausted and slightly pale, he draws you into a hug with a sigh.
- Zayne knows you well, too well in fact, and could tell from your expression that something was up. Manoeuvring you both into the living room and onto the sofa, he holds your chin so that you can’t avoid eye contact “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
- The stress of holding back about the situation gets to you and it all comes out in rambles like a flood of information. You tell him about your late period, the nausea and the fatigue. About how you went out to get tests but you couldn’t gather the courage to do it just yet.
- He holds you close and you watch his eyes flash with shock, disbelief, worry, love and happiness. “Darling, take a deep breath. We’re gonna be okay. I love you and I know we haven’t planed for a child so soon but I would love them regardless.”
- You agree to do the tests and zayne holds you tightly while you both wait for it to process. Outwardly he looked calm and it was only the slightest tremble of his eyelids and his rapid blinking that gave away his true emotional state.
- When the timer rings you both jump a little to see the results, [Pregnant] [Pregnant] [Pregnant]. Staring blankly at it you’re startled when zayne pulls you into a tight hug, hand pressing your head into his chest where you could hear his rapid heartbeat.
- “I love you. I love you so much. Thank you darling, I promise I’ll take care of you both.” His voice sounded a little breathless and shaken yet full of conviction.
- He’s gonna shuffle you out that door and into Akso hospital as soon as possible to get an actual scan and all the pre-natal vitamins you could possibly need.
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SYLUS
- You just took the tests and was waiting for them to process when you felt the familiar appearance of a presence you’ve been missing. Sylus had been gone on one of his trips for the past week or so which made it easier for you to hide how tired and worried you’ve been recently.
- Stepping out of the bathroom you see your boyfriend lounging on your sofa, having let himself into your apartment once again as he was so fond of doing. Locking eyes with you he stands up and makes his way over to you. “Something you want to tell me sweetie? Mephisto mentioned you buying something rather interesting today” He smirks
- To be honest it really wouldn’t be that big of a surprise considering how often he has you pressed into the bed…the walls…the table… you both had a pretty sizeable breeding kink and very healthy sex lives. Contraceptives were never 100% effective and all right?
- “Sy! You’re back!” Letting him sweep you into a hug you felt yourself melt into his touch, for someone meant to be the biggest bad of the N109 zone Sylus always brought a sense of safety when he was draped over you like this
- Tilting your face up to observe the dark circles under your eyes he frowns a little “Mephisto hasn’t been observant enough it seems. Have you not been able to get much sleep sweetie?”
- Looking away from him you mumbled about how you’ve been feeling rather tired recently and how your period has been late. Shifting your gaze back to him you quietly tell him that you took a few pregnancy tests right before he arrived and its waiting in the bathroom right now.
- You watch as his gaze softens and he looks at you with such love and devotion. Without another word he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom in a few quick steps. You hold your breath as he picks up the test so that you can both check the results.
- [Not Pregnant][Not Pregnant][Not Pregnant] you couldn’t help the pang of disappointment that you felt. While you both weren’t actively trying to have a child right now a small part of you couldn’t help but hope that an accidental oops miracle might have happened.
- “Do you want to have a little one sweetie? Talk to me love.” Spinning you around so that he can look at you, his searching gaze carefully trying to decipher your reaction. While talking about feelings were not his forte, he never lacks in trying to be considerate of you might be feeling after you both had previous fights from misunderstandings.
- Moving into the living room you both have a proper conversation about having kids and how you both felt from this pregnancy scare. Best believe this man will do his best to help you achieve it if you wished to be knocked up soon. You’re not going to be walking straight for a while after that.
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XAVIER
- Your fatigue was slowing you down your reflexes in battles and Xavier has been concerned about you. He’s had to pull you out of the way and block more wanderer attacks for you recently than usual but you told him that you’ve just been tired from work recently.
- When he found you slumped over in a corner after a fight he decided enough was enough and was about to drag you to the hospital for a checkup when you panicked and blurted out “I might be pregnant”
- Xavier.exe has stopped working and you watched him tense up frozen on the spot, a blush spreading across his cheeks and ears, his eyes widening while staring directly at you
- “Are-are you sure? Is the baby okay? My star we should get you to the hospital” he chokes out and sweeps you into his arms princess-carry style. You could feel his body shaking a little and his eyes looked rather frantic.
- It takes you awhile before you manage to convince him that no you don’t need to go to the hospital and that you have pregnancy tests at home that you’ve already bought last night that you’ve yet to try.
- Xavier is going to teleport you both back to your house because let’s be real this man would not be able to wait and take public transport home.
- After you’ve taken the test you’re both anxiously waiting for the results and you can feel Xavier squeezing your hand tightly in his.
- When the time is up you pick up the tests to see [Not Pregnant][Not Pregnant][Not Pregnant]
- You couldn’t help the sigh of relief, honestly you just didn’t feel ready to have a child just yet. Turning to the side you could see your lover’s shaken eyes have calmed down, crawling into his arms xavier instinctively hugs you close and buries his face into the crook of your neck exhaling deeply.
- “You okay xav?” His arms squeezed tighter around you for a minute before he untangles himself to lean his forehead against yours and look at you. “I feel complicated my star. I’m relieved because I don’t think we’re ready to be parents and I know we haven’t had that conversation yet either. While we were waiting for the test to be done I can’t help but to think about how I can’t even cook for a baby and we both work such dangerous jobs who would take care of the child while we’re away on long missions.” He rambled with a nervous chuckle, “but I can’t help but to feel a little disappointed because I would love to have a mini you to love.”
- You both laugh at the thought of Xavier setting possibly setting the kitchen on fire again while trying to make a milk bottle for a baby. “It’s okay xav, someday we can have a child when we’re both more ready to be parents, just not now. Till then we can always practice the making part”
- You watched as xavier’s eyes darken as he pins you down “that I can do starlight” he huffs out in a hoarse whisper. Neither of you leave the house for the rest of the day, your poor neighbours are gonna curse the shitty soundproofing of the apartments.
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RAFAYEL
- Rafayel would be ecstatic to start a family with you. He’s been dreaming of living his life with you for so long it almost doesn’t feel real now.
- You’ve both had this conversation before but it was always spoken as something in the future not right now
- You took the test in one of the bathrooms in mo studios while Rafayel was busy painting in fact. He’s been pouting that you’ve been too “busy” lately to spend more time with him when actually you’ve been avoiding going on his adventures with him as miss bodyguard considering you really haven’t felt very well. Which is why you were now staring at a pregnancy test while standing in his bathroom as you figured he would be too in the zone while painting to come look for you.
- Unfortunately for you, Rafayel was looking to procrastinate again after having lost his fleeting inspiration when you wandered away from him again 10 minutes ago. “Princesssssss, let’s go for a walk along the beach i- princess?”
- He finds you standing in the bathroom staring blankly at something you’re holding in hand. Walking closer he gets a better glance at what has you so absorbed that you were even ignoring him calling you
- “Is that? Are you? OMG We’re gonna have a baby???” He’s grabbing you in a hug and spinning you around excitedly “We’re gonna be great parents, best family, omg what if we have a little princess like you? I’m so gonna teach her to paint and draw and-“
- When he finally calms down you both have a proper talk about it and make plans for you to move in with him so that he can take care of you and the baby. “Thank you for giving me more to love, for giving me a family again. I love you Princess.”
Thank you for reading! Feel free to send me prompts or requests, i’m still new to this but im so deep in LADS hyperfixation that i’ve been churning out content in between actually gaming and reading every fic i can get my hands on ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡
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sukibenders · 1 year
Text
comfort and care
FEATURING: percy jackson x reader
summary: for the past few days, you've been noticing a change in percy's demeanor as of late. from the bags gathering under his eyes from lack of sleep to his more irritable nature, everything had screamed "wrong" to you. in your attempts to find some resolve, you set out to find ways to tend to his needs.
contents: sad!percy, poor boy is struggling (specifics aren't mentioned) and needs comfort, fluff, angst, mentions of lack of personal care (such as poor sleep and struggling emotional health), percy not being kind to himself (dismissing his feelings), concerned!reader, cute couple moments, reader takes care of percy, mentions of cooking but can easily be ignored or altered if you can't cook, percy calling you babe, i hope percy doesn't seem ooc in this.
note" thank you so much to everyone who showed support to my first percy x reader, as that really warmed my heart. this one came to mind when i thought about how little x reader imagines there are that involve percy receiving comfort and felt like our boy needed someone to be able to vent to. ergo, this came to be. hope you enjoy!
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You first noticed it during one of your weekly Iris Messaging calls with Percy, a familiar routine the two of you had come up with when you both had to leave camp to return to your respective household during the school season. It had helped ease the long-distance separation, considering demigods weren't allowed electronic devices such as phones with the risk of drawing the attention of monsters, and allowed for you both to speak for hours and hours without worrying about racking up on a phone bill. It was a bonus that it allowed you to see one another, especially now.
While it was evident that Percy was attempting to hide any signs of fatigue, you had known him well enough to see past the feeble attempts and hesitantly brought the issue forward. "You look tired," you had said, eyes scanning over his frame through the hazy messaging system. "When was the last time that you slept?"
At the question, Percy let out a soft laugh, waving his hand in dismissal. "C'mon, babe, let's not weigh down our talk with boring stuff like my sleep schedule. Wouldn't you like to focus on something more interesting?"
To which you retorted. "I would like focus on making sure that my boyfriend is doing okay, taking care of himself. That would interest me just fine."
The inky haired boy let out a small sound that rumbled in the back of his throat, taking in your words and the unwavering concern in your gaze. A part of him practically leaned towards you (or more so you image), wanting to seek you out for as much comfort as he could gain. But another, more darker part of him, had drew him to a halt and left his previous wants to plunder into nothing more than wants rather than needs.
"It's nothing, really." Lie. "I've just been stressed with school is all." Another lie, well, partially. "You know I'm not the sharpest tool in the box." He was attempting to be humorous, in hopes of drawing away your concern on to something else. It didn't work.
Your burrows narrowed in a way he'd only seen when you get protective over things that you care about, and being on the receiving end of that look made him wince. "Don't be so hard on yourself," you said with a stern tone. "Besides, I don't like it when people insult my boyfriend. He's a genius in his own ways."
"Even when it's me?"
"Especially when it's you." A part of you warmed slightly when you notice a glint of gratitude sparkle in the inky haired boy's eyes at your defense, even if it was from his own self. But, even with that, it did little to provide any solution to the dilemma at hand as Percy had used quick thinking to find a way of branching to a new subject that, before you knew it, left little room for you to return to your concerns before you both had to call it a night.
That didn't mean that this problem was over, nor would your attempts to fix it be hindered.
It would seem so that you weren't the only one to notice Percy's shift as most of your friends had noticed it too. From Annabeth, who was ready to report any of her findings discovered during the pairs talks with one another to you or other members of the Seven dropping casual hints of concern (Jason had mentioned that he noticed Percy's hands tremble whenever they would drag across his face, Leo had noted that his jokes---which were usually funny---had either fallen flat or gave a vibe of uneasiness, Hazel had commented on the way his smile no longer reached his eyes and so on). You had used your family phone to call Sally who at the time was nowhere near Percy, thankfully, and had nearly broken down to you over the phone about her worries. She had done the best she could, but she was only one person.
It didn't take you long to formulate a plan, all that was needed was a way of travel to the Jackson's residence. It was lucky for you that a certain son of Hades had been open to the idea of helping as he dropped you off via shadow travel in front of the apartment complex. After a thanks of gratitude, the di Angelo boy left with saying "Tell Percy that I hope he gets better" before disappearing into the shadows.
You had already informed Sally and Paul of your plan, and the two had readily abided by it by taking Estelle on a trip around the city, leaving you and Percy to have some alone time. By the time you had gotten to your destination, a sudden bundle of nerves had crept their way inside you as you waited for Percy to open the door. What if he didn't want you here? What if it only made him more upset? What if you being here simply did nothing at all?
All your thoughts were put on hold when the boy himself threw open the door, a look of surprise marking his features as he took you in, as if trying to determine whether you were really there or not.
"Surprise!" You had said with hopefully enthusiasm, a conscious smile painting your face as you waited for a response.
Instead of words, a pair of strong arms circled you and pulled you into a muscular chest, body molding around yours as two became one in a matter of seconds. "You're here." Percy mumbled, though more as a statement than surprise even though your sudden appearance was one for sure.
"Of course I am, babe." You smiled into his chest, rubbing your hands up and down his back in a way that you hoped would bleed all the love and comfort from your heart that you wished give.
It didn't take long for him to pull you in to the shelter of his apartment, and even less before the two of you reached his bedroom. You both had fallen on to his bed, laying side by side facing one another with a little distance to allow you to look into each other's eyes. It was moments like these were almost anything in the world could be happening, right outside the window even, and neither of you would care. All that would matter would be the warmth of your bodies pressed together, fingers interlocking in a complex hold that neither of you wanted to be freed from, and the mingling of your even breaths dancing with one another in the faintly lit room.
"I wished you told me that you were coming. I would've cleaned up a bit." Percy joked, waving a hand in the direction towards his mess of a room before rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
You let out snort, raising your hand to card your fingers through his messy locs. A smile pulled on your lips at the soft mewl that emitted from your boyfriend before he ducked his face into your neck. "I don't mind, I think my happiness at seeing you might overpower some of my observation skills."
Percy hummed. "Maybe I'm in luck then." You could tell that he was attempting to divert the conversation again, already knowing the reason for your abrupt visit. And a part of you was almost inclined to do so, wrapped in the comfort of your lover's embrace, physically after weeks of Iris Messages that left you only wanting more. But this social visit wasn't for you. As much as you wanted to lounge around all day, hearing Percy rattle off details of his days away or a spiel of jokes that would be sure to make you laugh.
But now was not the time.
"Percy," You whisper softly after a moment, thumb rubbing against the junction where his neck met his shoulders. He shivered, whether at the movement or your voice as the question he had been awaiting. "I've known you for a long time, like you've known me, and I can tell when something is wrong. Just as you would for me. And you and I both know that something is wrong. You haven't been yourself lately."
Percy didn't speak. His face remained hidden in your neck.
"You don't have to tell me right now as I won't force you. But I just want you to know that I'm here, and so are the others...if you ever want or need..." you pause, your hand stopping in its movements down his spine when you felt his body tremble beside you. "Percy?"
Labored breathing turned into harsh, muffled sobs that shook your heart with each one. Percy's usually tall frame clung to you as he pressed his face further into your neck, if that was even possible, littering the skin with a river of tears. The more he tried to speak, as if believing he had to explain himself, the more his words were choked by the sobs. You simply held him closer, pulling his body further into yours and caressing him from his back to his neck to scalp and back again, whispering comforting phrase from one's of love to one's of reassurance.
"It's all right," you whispered as he shook, running your nose along his temple. "You've been holding this in for a long time and now it's time to let it out. I've got you."
You both stayed like that until Percy's tears had run dry, until his heavy sobs turned into weak hiccups until his body stopped shaking and his breathing evened into one accompanied by an eased sleep. His body fell lacks at your side, his breaths tickling your skin every now and again. The collar of your shirt was dampened from Percy's tears, but you paid it no mind as you carded your fingers through his hair, soothing him even in his sleep because it was what he needed. What he deserved.
A thought had popped into your head when you felt your stomach growl in attention, your hunger taking focus as you realized, after looking at the clock on the bedside, how much time had past since between your arrival and now. Raising to your feet, taking precautions not to wake the sleeping boy, you slipped out of the room and towards the kitchen. Sally had been kind enough to offer to cook something before leaving, but you had simply offered to make something instead and leave one less thing for her to worry about.
You were an hour or so into cooking, the scents floating into the air and clouding throughout the apartment, when you heard hurried footsteps making their way down the hall. Glancing over your shoulder you watched as Percy slid into the room, his appearance ruffled from sleep but his eyes wide and alert as they scanned the room, searching for something. Or someone, more like it, as they stopped when they landed on you.
It seems as if a weight had left his shoulders as they dropped, no longer tense, and he easily made his way towards you. You were in his arms in less than a second, his face pressed into your hair as he breathe in deeply. "I almost thought it was all a dream. You being here."
You hummed, smiling into his arm. "Glad that I'm not?"
"You have no idea." You stood like that for a few moments, occasionally rocking back and forth to keep blood flowing through your legs when Percy spoke again. "Thank you. Thank you for...for..."
But you shushed him, shaking your head as you met his eyes. No words needed to be said, and he understood. His gaze drifted over to the assemble littering the kitchen counter with a raised brow. "Anything that I can help with?"
"Think you can handle it?"
This caused him to snort. "Please, I was raised by the Sally Jackson, learning how to cook was a given." He cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders confidently, moving closer the counter. "Now, chef, tell me what we're working with."
"Yes, chef!"
643 notes · View notes
sebsbarnes · 8 months
Note
Hi there!
I first of all wanted to start off by saying that I’m absolutely obsessed with your work- it’s amazing!!
Secondly, I was wondering if I could make a request?
Can I request a tangerine x reader where they’re out at a bar or something and there’s this guy being really pervy and creepy and just won’t leave her alone?
Obviously the reader can handle herself but they just got back from a long and tiring mission, and she quite honestly doesn’t have the energy.
So of course tan comes to the rescue 🤭🤭
I hope this is okay, and if not please feel free to ignore this!!
Have a wonderful day love and don’t forget to drink lots of water <33
heey!! i really appreciate the kind words, it keeps me going! i hope you've had a good day/night and if not tm will be better! and i hope u enjoy this!
bar fight || tangerine
tangerine x f!reader
warnings: harassment, fighting
word count: 1.6k+
masterlist
a/n: im drawing inspo from something that happened to me one time at a bar which will be the reason tan steps in here but of course tangerine was not there to save me although that would've been lovely
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"just one pint! two, two! i swear and then we all can leave," lemon pleaded, "we can leave the second i finish it. i'll even take the last sip on the way out the door," he tried enticing you, rubbing his shoulder up and down against yours.
"i reek, lemon. and tangerine looks like he nose dived into green and purple paint," you grimaced slightly at the bruises forming on tan's face.
lemon grabbed your wrist dragging you closer to the bar doors, "is it even a real bar if at least ten people don't smell awful and your shoes don't stick to the floor?"
the color of your eyes disappeared into the back of your head, "let's go."
lemon did a little victory dance before swinging the door open which tangerine held for you to walk in. the fatigue was riddled on both of your faces. the three of you had just gotten back into town after a long and very successful mission. you were all for celebrating but tonight you'd rather celebrate with a burning hot shower.
"you 'right by yourself? i'm going to head to the balcony for a few," tangerine asked, waving his pack of cigarettes in the air.
"yeah go for it, i'll manage," you replied. tangerine gave you a small nod before turning his back and sliding outside.
the inside of the bar was packed and you were shuffling around with your shoulders pulled in to try and avoid hitting people. it was loud, smelly, and yes, the floors were grossly sticky. it only annoyed you more, but, you tried having a positive attitude about it. 'two drinks' is all you kept telling yourself. after what felt like years you made it to the bar. you were sandwiched against a girl with blonde hair and a guy who weaseled his way in between you and an older gentleman. you could feel his eyes burning holes in the side of your head and the last thing you wanted to do was look over, but, it was becoming too much.
"hi!" he nearly yelled as you glanced over quickly.
"hey," you said curtly, bringing your lips into a straight line.
"i'm craig. what's your name?" he asked leaning in closer to you. you gave him your name, refusing to look back at him as you felt his eyes examine you. the drink you ordered appeared in front of you and you scribbled your name on the receipt.
"what's that you're drinking?" craig asked but you pretended not to hear him as you slinked into the crowd, hoping to lose him.
it worked for a while, you found some space near a wall to stand. there was a group of girls next to you singing loudly and dancing around. you couldn't lie and say it wasn't infectious as one of the drunk girls grabbed your hand and started dancing with you, which of course you joined in. it was fun and it kept your mind off how tired your body was.
"thought i lost you there!" you flinched away, startled, by craig's nervous laughter beside you. you looked down at the man who stood inches below you and gave him an award-winning fake smile.
"you're very pretty," he said puffing his chest out slightly.
"thanks."
"you don't talk much, eh? is it because you're nervous around me?" craig asked his eyes looking down at your legs.
"just tired!" you exclaimed with fake enthusiasm, gulping down the tequila in your cup.
"you seem a bit lonely, are you by yourself tonight?" he persisted, inching closer to you with each word despite you stepping to the side each time.
"nope!" you retorted, popping the 'p' and turning to find the bathroom.
you stayed in the bathroom for a few minutes and finished your drink. the eyebags seemed to protrude out of your face as you examined them in the mirror. now, lemon had to almost be done with his drinks. that man can pound drinks back. so, with high hopes you left the bathroom to go find a seat at the bar and wait until lemon found or texted you or hopefully tangerine was done smoking.
there was a vacant stool in the dead center which you jumped on. your elbow rested against the bar, head in hand, absentmindedly watching the tv in the corner. it was a boxing match that you had zero interest in but it provided enough entertainment. you shut your eyes tight as you felt the familiar, unwelcomed, presence over your shoulder.
"look, i think you are really pretty. hotter than anyone else here and look at me. any girl would want me and the fact you're trying to play hard to get is starting to really piss me off," craig ranted but you refused to turn your head and pretended like the noise of the bar drowned his voice out.
"you're right, i'm sorry. that was rude of me, i apologize. i just noticed you the moment you walked into the bar and i needed to talk to you. you're really beautiful and i know i'd treat you right. whoever you're dating must not be treating you right because i can feel that you want me."
tangerine blew out one last cloud of smoke and tossed his cigarette into the ashtray. it was far more peaceful outside but he knew he had to go in and find lemon, who he knew was more than two drinks in and probably friends with ten more people. tangerine opened the door back into the bar and scanned the room. that's when he saw a man with his hand on your throat.
you ignored craig's presence until you no longer could. he was silent for a few moments after his rant. suddenly, you saw a hand snake into your field of vision and you felt his hand pressing firmly against your throat. you were shocked for a moment before realizing what was going on. craig's thumb and middle finger were applying harsh pressure to your throat making it hard to breathe. then, you felt the pressure shift in his hand from choking to pushing. craig pulled you to the ground by your throat, your body flying backward off the stool and slamming into the floor.
you saw a figure jump over your body and loud commotion next to you but you were too disorientated at the moment from the wind being knocked out of you. one of the bartenders leaped over the bar and pulled you up and shielded you from the commotion. that's when you realized it was tangerine who had hopped over and started beating craig to the floor. it was like a scene straight out of the boxing match you were just watching. tangerine towered over craig in height and build and the anger in his face was terrifying.
tangerine was throwing the smaller man across the bar with punches. he'd punch craig in the face to which he stumbled and then tangerine would trip him. his body would fall to the ground and tangerine would pick him up by the shirt before launching him into the now vacant stools.
"please!" craig pleaded, blood running from his eyebrow. tangerine grabbed the back of his neck and slammed his face into the bar.
"you like hurting women? huh?" he screamed, "you think you're so tough, look at you now! fuckin' pathetic piece of shit. what? it's not fun being picked on and harassed?"
tangerine was raging. his face and chest were red with anger and the vein in his forehead pulsated. he had wild eyes similar to when he was on a mission. you watched as he slipped his hand into his pants pocket, slipping on his brass knuckles. before he was able to crush the bastard's nose lemon swooped in from behind and grabbed tangerine's bicep. the bouncers from outside grabbed craig by the neck of his shirt and kicked his bloody body out of the bar. lemon's hands were on tangerine's shoulders trying to calm his brother down. finally, tangerine's chest rose and fell at a normal pace and he turned his head and noticed you. lemon released his shoulders letting him walk to you.
tangerine cupped your face and craned his neck down a bit, "are you alright love?"
you laughed slightly uncomfortable that a big scene was made because of you, "yeah... just shocked really."
"did he hurt you in any other way?" he asked with softness.
"no. no... i didn't think it would turn into that. he had been bothering me the whole time i should've been more forceful but i was just too tired to really care," you sighed.
"no," tangerine said sternly, now eye level with you, "none of this is your fault, okay? that prick should know better than to continue to harass someone who is clearly not accepting their advances. and the fact he fuckin' put his hands on you. fuck i'll..." tangerine gritted his teeth now standing upright and looking towards the door craig was kicked out of.
"tan! no. you getting arrested is not worth it. i'm okay, okay? he got what he deserved and i really don't want to be here any longer," you pleaded, grabbing onto his forearm to force him to look at you.
tangerine caressed your head, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and anger. tangerine guided you outside and when the door shut he pulled you into a tight but gentle hug, mindful of your back.
"i'm so fuckin' sorry love. i should've stayed with you the whole night," he whispered into your hair.
you pulled back from the hug, "mmm no, hey, hey- that's not what we are going to do. you have nothing to be sorry for and i'm thankful for you and not just now when you beat dickheads up for me, but always."
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too-much-tma-stuff · 1 year
Text
I Don’t Believe You Care
Y’all are my beta readers XD if you see any errors please let me know. I’m going to post this on AO3 later.
Part one here
------
The scolding that Bruce gave Damian was the gentlest either of them had ever received, but it did cow Damian enough that he behaved while meeting Cass and Stephanie. It helped that they were sweet, Stephanie was a bit energetic and overwhelming but Cass was quiet and seemed to understand them better. She helped reign in the over-enthusiastic family friend and Danny was glad to have her as a sister. She didn’t speak much, she communicated in signs that he didn’t understand but he thought that he could learn in time, and he wanted to. When he told her so she smiled and Steph squealed, insisting loudly and brightly that they would be happy to teach him!
He couldn’t help but feel relieved that when Alfred asked Stephanie if she would be staying for dinner she joked that she should actually spend some time at home for once. It seemed like she didn’t live here, though they knew of her identity as Spoiler and her involvement with the bats, all her noise and movement wouldn’t be a consistent presence around the house. Not that Danny didn’t like her! He just thought he’d like her best in relatively small doses before she could overwhelm him.
He would ask Cass to teach him when Steph wasn’t here, it might be just slightly trickier, but he could use the excuse of letting the two friends spend the time they had together. And maybe Tim could help him practice? He must know how to communicate with his sibling after all, and Danny could already tell he and Tim were going to get along.
He was even more glad that Steph had gone when Dick arrived because as the man came barrelling in like a hurricane Danny didn’t want to think of how much chaos and noise they would be together! For all his practice in social graces they really should have prepared him for this chaos, crowds, and friendly contact. But the compound had been short sighted and ill prepared in such regards.
Dick was the worst, Danny was almost jealous of Damian who could snarl and squirm and draw a knife on the man when Dick tried to hug him. Danny put on a smile and forced a laugh and pretended that his instinctual reaction to being held like this didn’t make him want to bite and rend. He knew that Dick meant well, or at least he thought so, the man was honestly famously good natured and cared for his family. Danny wanted to be on his good side, and couldn’t bring himself to actually say he didn’t want to be touched, or at least wasn’t used to it. The sudden, quick, and broad movements Dick favoured with his dramatics made Danny want to flinch though he had better self control then that!
He dodged hugs as gracefully as he could for the rest of the night and managed to sit him and Damian between Bruce and Tim for dinner, with Danny sitting next to Tim of course. The food was good, and everyone in the family was very welcoming, but by the end of it Danny was exhausted.
He was good at this sort of thing, trained to charm, and redirect apparently effortlessly, but the thing was it wasn’t effortless, and these sorts of situations were harder to simulate then battle. Danny had done a good job, he could tell that he had them charmed, and had them warming up to Damian too actually, but he also knew that he was drooping. He should hide his fatigue, but he was still human, he yawned.
“You’ve had a long day young masters,” Alfred said, instantly picking up on the mood, he was an impressive man and they both knew it. “Now that you’ve eaten why don’t you go settle in your rooms and get some rest? I took the liberty of going to buy you some pajamas and basics that should fit the two of you. I’m sure Master Bruce will be happy to take you both out to buy clothes more suited to your taste tomorrow,” he added.
“I think that’s a good idea, don’t you Damian,” Danny asked, glancing over at his brother.
“I’m not tired,” Damian harrumphed, of course he wouldn’t admit defeat. “But I would like to see where we will be staying,” He added. No doubt he’d thoroughly check security and for any potential surveillance before he slept. Danny wasn’t going to bother.
“Very good young Masters,” Alfred said with a nod, pausing to look back at Dick. “Will you be staying the night as well?” He asked the older man, who gave a rueful smile and shook his head.
“I’m needed in Bludhaven, I was able to come for the day on such short notice but I couldn’t get more time off. I’ll schedule a proper vacation as soon as possible so I can come back and visit!” He said giving Danyal and Damian an encouraging smile, and Danny did a good job of looking disappointed that Dick was leaving even though he was glad to have some time to get his feet under him before more of the family would be under the same roof once more. Maybe he hadn’t been as subtle as he thought about dodging Dick’s affection though, because he didn’t try to hug either of the boys goodbye.
He bid their siblings farewell and followed Alfred up to his bedroom, seeing Damian into his first and then going into his own. He was quick to brush his teeth and change into the comfortable, soft pajamas they’d been bought which did fit perfectly. Unfortunately when he flopped down into bed, regardless of how exhausted he was, he couldn’t sleep. He kept replaying the events of the day, how he did, how he could have done better, what he had learned about the family and what it meant.
After maybe an hour once things had gone quiet on the other side of the wall and he thought Damian was asleep Danny sighed and got up. He opened his window and climbed out, he braced his feet on the sill and shoved off, jumping unnaturally high for a human to grab on the edge of the roof and drag himself up onto it. He scrambled up gracefully and silently, finding a comfortable place to lay, looking up at the sky. He stayed there, zoning out for a while before he heard a soft thump on the roof near him.
“How did you get up here?” Bruce asked, dressed as Batman this time, Danny glanced over and gave him a small smile.
“You can’t really see the stars here,” he said, looking back up at the sky. “I won’t miss much about the compound, but I’ll miss the stars.”
“Not settling in particularly well?” Batman asked, sitting down on the ridge of the roof, a respectable distance between them.
“Oh I’ll be alright,” Danny said with a shrug. “They always raised me to be your heir after all, Damian will have more trouble than me. Want some advice?”
“Hm,” Batman said, an affirmative sound.
“Take him to a zoo, buy him art supplies. He’ll deny he cares about such things, but I know him better then anyone and he does. Once he realizes he really can be himself out here, that’ll help start undoing the brainwashing.”
“How are you so insightful about the situation? You can’t have avoided the brain washing.” Batman asked, and Danny shrugged. “What about you?”
“What about me?” Danny asked, glancing over just for a moment.
“How do I bond with you?” Bruce asked, and Danny laughed.
“You don’t have to. I don’t need to be won over or convinced. Our grandfather is a violent fool who only cares for himself, teaching me to recognize manipulation showed me what he really was years ago. If you turned me away entirely I still wouldn’t go back to the league.” He said with a wry smile.
“Hm,” Batman sounded unimpressed. “You’re still my son. I’d like to bond with you?”
Danny sighed, not sure why Batman was being stubborn when his energy was best spent elsewhere. He sat up and looked over at Batman, tilting his head slightly. “I don’t need you,” He said somewhat bluntly. “Damian does, give him your focus. If you truly want you can buy me an instrument, and books on astronomy.”
Batman nodded thoughtfully and Danny lay back down, there was a few moments of quiet between them before B spoke up again. “How did you get up here?” He asked again and Danny sighed.
“I guess you have to know eventually,” He murmured. “Part of the reason we’re both here is because Grandfather couldn’t decide who he wanted to be his heir, it was always supposed to be Damian but something happened and suddenly I was a much more attractive choice.”
“What happened?” B prompted after a moment.
“You know about the Pits? Most people dunked in it come back less, in the mind usually, sometimes less human, feral and monstrous. But rarely, once in the blue moon, someone comes back more.” Danny glanced over at Batman, and when he blinked he let his eyes flash green, glowing with the vile waters the kept Ra’s limping along. He could have explained more about the ways that he was different now, but he didn’t want to let on more then he had to at this point. He wasn’t naive enough to trust Bruce just because they shared blood, so he simply said; “I came back More, and I mean, I’m still a trained assassin, I probably could still have gotten up here even if I hadn’t.”
“But seemingly being chosen by Lazarus made me seem like a better option to grandfather, and your… complicated feelings towards empowered people is well known. So they didn’t know if you’d like me anymore.” His eyes faded back to blue and he looked up at the sky again, he couldn’t read Bruce’s expression under the cowl anyway. “It took a lot of subtle work to convince them to send us both so you could ‘decide which of us you wanted’.”
“Do you expect me to choose one of you?” Bruce asked, unreadable as ever.
“No, not really, you clearly like having many children. Damian still thinks now that you have a biological heir you’ll turn your adopted children away, but that’s grandfather talking and he’s a fool. If you do choose one then choose Damian, I’ll be fine on my own but he needs the help navigating this world. He’s strong, he’s clever, he’s more observant than me, he’ll make a good detective. He’ll be more loyal than me once you win him over too. He’ll be harder to break of the bad habits, I’ve never been as good at killing as him, but once he learns the way you do things I think he’ll be a good Robin.” Danny said, pulling up his knees and wrapping his arms around them, it was a bit chilly on the roof.
Batman hummed and nodded, which was good, if he had continued to push Danny would have had to bring up Jason. He knew that Jason was alive of course, but Bruce didn’t and Danyal would say he was more likely to end up like Jason if he had to but that was a last resort.
“Well I want you to know that both of you are very welcome here. And neither of you have to be Robin, or anything that you don’t want to be. I’ll support you in whatever you want to do, and you being a meta doesn’t change that at all. Both of you have a home here,” Bruce assured.
Danny nodded and gave Bruce a smile before standing up and smiling. “That’s good to hear,” He said, while not believing it at all. Bruce couldn’t and shouldn’t offer such unconditional support after just meeting them. “I should get back inside, it’s getting cold, and I am tired,” He said, wandering over the edge of the roof and stepping off, twisting around to grab the edge and swung off and back through the window before closing the window and brushing himself off so he wouldn’t get to much dirt in his sheets before crawling into bed.
He wasn’t fully asleep before the door to his room opened just enough for Damian to slip inside, he wasn’t surprised, Damian and he weren’t as independent from each other as they acted like they were. “You should have locked your door and blocked it somehow. We cannot trust the mongrels Father has taken in,” he hissed at Danny.
“Damian, shut up and get over here,” Danny mumbled sleepily, not bothering to open his eyes as he lifted the blankets on the other side of the bed. He heard a scoff and waited as Damian did whatever he needed to to feel like the room was secure and then came over to slide into bed next to Danny. Danny held out his arm, they didn’t exactly cuddle even when like this, but Damian liked to hold Danny’s wrist and feel his pulse. He had done it when they were younger but he had stopped for a while, it had only started up again after he had watched Danny die, it was understandable.
Damian wrapped one hand around Danny’s wrist, seeking out his pulse and tucked the other arm under his pillow, no doubt stashing a knife there. “None of them are going to hurt us Dami. They’re used to having multiple siblings, they probably compete, but other then one notable exception we’ve never heard of any of them trying to kill each other have we?”
“You don’t know that, Father’s has never had a biological child before, they must recognize we’re more of a threat then the others,” Damian argued in hushed tones.
“They won’t, we haven’t even proven ourselves yet. We could be incompetent.”
“We’re not!” Damian objected, his voice raising just a little and Danny hushed him softly.
“No, we’re not, but they don’t know that. I would suggest we keep out heads down for at least a month, we learned what we could about them from a distance but we should observe them. We’ve never been out of the compound except on missions, we have a lot to learn and whoever does end up his heir will have to be able to pretend to be normal. I intend to take Tim up on the lessons on popular media, perhaps it isn’t practical, but what about when we inevitably have to interact with people our own age at parties? What about interviews?
“We don’t want to reflect badly on father and if we don’t know Anything about such thing, or have any hobbies, or anything of the sort people will assume he treats us poorly.” Danny murmured and Damian harumphed, even without opening his eyes Danny could tell Damian was gritting his teeth.
“Why should we care what the uncultured masses think?” He hissed furiously and Danny cracked a small smile.
“Because father does. As the Bat his reputation is half of his weapon, and his identity as Bruce Wayne is carefully crafted to both divert suspicion from him being Batman and to make people like him. Father understands well how ones image is a tool, and being a good father is part of his image as Bruce Wayne, we will have to play into it if we want to succeed.” Danyal explained as gently as he could, he didn’t believe all of what he was saying really, or at least the way that he was framing it. He was framing it in the way he thought was best to make Damian start giving the outside world a chance, and hoping that when he did give it a chance he would find he liked it.
It was quiet for a long time which was good, it meant that Damian was properly considering what Danny had to say. He was nearly asleep before Damian spoke again, rousing Danny from his half doze. “Alright, knowing these ‘siblings’ patterns would help, and I can concede the point on the importance of reputation,” He said stiffly.
Danyal had to suppress a smile at his brother’s tone. “Good. And try to remember that unlike Mother and Grandfather batman has a rule against killing. Anything you do you must make sure it is never tracked back to us, especially because he’s not going to suddenly stop caring about them because we share his blood. If he finds out we hurt one of them it would absolutely ruin our chances, or be a huge set back at the very least,” He added, again trying to gently steer his brother in the direction he wanted. He was being manipulative, but it was the way he knew that worked.
“Father should know better then to develop such misplaced attachments,” Damian grumbled but then after a moment of silence he sighed and nodded. “All of our missions have had to be done in secret anyway, with time and planning we’ll manage.”
Well, it had bought them time and that had been Danyal’s goal so he nodded as well. “Good, now sleep Ahki, we’ve both had a long day and I’m tired.”
Damian let out a soft hum and that was all, he kept hold of Danny’s wrist even as he fell asleep, as he always did. Danny liked it too, the physical reminder that Damian was there, that they were safely together. He didn’t think that either of them would have to sneak out before dawn to make sure they weren’t caught and punished for such childish behaviour, he truly felt like they could rest.
Part three
885 notes · View notes
byhees · 1 year
Text
casual affection.
엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 700 genre fluff established relationship warnings not proof-read kissing skinship — more
a/n. blank
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heeseung
would help you dry your hair after a long day; it’d be the late hours of the night, and he’d stand by the edge of the bed, hairdryer in one hand, brush in another.
makes it a point to kiss you, on the lips, before you two part on your own ways in the early mornings; slips a little playful comment before seeing you off.
would often put an arm around your shoulder, lightly pulling you close to his side with a small smile that almost goes unnoticed.
regularly picks up your favourite snacks on the way home, to the point where the cashier at the convenience store recognises the usual.
jongseong
would learn the lyrics to your all-time favourite songs, so you two can sing them together as an impromptu karaoke session.
holds your hand in almost every situation, finding it comforting to intertwine fingers with you, hands moulding together like perfect puzzle pieces.
cooks two servings when making food, because he doesn’t want you to come home empty-stomached.
keeps an extra hoodie at the backseat of his car, because he knows of your habit of forgetting, and doesn’t want to see you cold on a chilly day.
jaeyun
would change the lyrics of a song, so that it says your name instead; finds your delayed reaction and realisation adorable.
leaves some of your favourite shirts of his aside, and comes up with silly excuses to let you keep them.
brushes stray strands of hair out of your face, and takes the opportunity to leave a peck on, either, your forehead or your lips.
always slips his heat pack in the pocket of your jacket, not wanting you to freeze in the particularly snowy weather.
sunghoon
would be your personal alarm, waking you up to prevent any oversleeping for important events; tells you you’re the most beautiful girl in the world, and ruffles your already tousled hair.
helps you put on a necklace; his hands leave feathery touches on your neck, and as he hooks the chain to the clasp, he has the cutest grin plastered on his face.
takes candid pictures of you when you’re in your element, and uses them as his lock screen.
would rub your back when you’re feeling down; additionally, he whispers sweet consolations and peppers your face with kisses.
seonwoo
would help you remove your makeup, and any large hair accessories, when you’re feeling tired from a long day; does so without any hesitation, despite being fatigued himself.
offers his shoulder for you to rest your head on; soft conversations as he gently caresses your palm, fiddling with your fingers.
draws a bath for you, and even prepares your favourite playlists.
gives you handmade gifts, even without a specific occasion; dedicates a good hour or two to folding origami pieces, and making cards.
jungwon
would send you heaps of pictures of his dog whenever you’re away, hoping that they’d serve as an energy boost for tiring days.
brings around a polaroid camera nearly everywhere he goes, because he loves snapping pictures of you; keeps his personal favourites at the back of his phone.
buys you flowers when you least expect it; always writes a short and sweet note with each ‘flower delivery’, something quirky like ‘if you were a flower, i would pick you, one thousand (and one) percent!’
a hand is always absentmindedly resting on your lower back, because he just likes being by your side.
riki
would tuck your blanket neatly around your body when it slides down, and press a kiss on your forehead, wishing you sweet dreams.
hypes you up for even the small things, and is there 24/7 to support you; movie marathons and late-night talks under the covers afterwards to hear how things went.
lightly bumps your shoulder whenever you say something funny; it soon escalates to chaotic, yet unified, cackling and wheezing (but it’s so oddly comforting).
buries his face into the crook of your neck when hugging.
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taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @crxzs @g4m3girl @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels
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14dayswithyou · 4 months
Text
cw: domestic comfort fic with Moth (written for @z-shalltear <3)
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"...Oh."
Your voice comes out soft — dulcet — so as to not startle your partner who was nestled deep within the fluffiness of your pillows, plushies, and blankets. Nothing but a faint light from their phone illuminates their face, but it disappears the moment their eyes fall on you. Giving you a soft smile, you watch as Moth sits up and offers you their undivided attention.
"I thought you'd be asleep by now." You return their smile in kind, though your shoulders can't help but slump even further from the fatigue that was slowly creeping up on you. "It's nearly three a.m." 
"I could say the same about you." Despite the playful glint in their eyes, Moth's voice is just as gentle as yours — much like the way they scoot back and lift the blankets to make room for you. An invitation, should you choose to accept it. "....Hey, y'okay?"
At their words, your resolve crumbles and your posture falters. You honestly weren't expecting to be met with concern — all you wanted to do was sleep away the problems and stress you've been dealing with lately — but it was nice to know that someone cared enough for your well-being to show genuine interest. And so, with a weak and weary sigh, you timidly walk over to Moth and settle into the space they once occupied in the bed.
It was still warm, comforting, and smelling faintly of something that reminded you of home.
"Mm. Just... tired, I guess." Once you're settled, you feel the blankets shift around your body before they're draped over your shoulders and tucked underneath your side. "Tired of everything."
"...Are you up for some cuddling?" your lover's voice comes from somewhere behind you. It was nice how Moth always seemed to ask for permission before touching you — lest it made you feel uncomfortable somehow.
So with a slight nod, you lean back into their embrace the moment you feel their arms circle around your body and rest underneath your chest. Your partner's chin soon draws near after a beat of silence; carefully tucking itself into the crown of your head to simply breathe in your scent.
...It seems you brought just as much comfort to Moth as they did to you.
"You feel like talking about it too?" Even though you felt safe in Moth's embrace to express what was on your mind, they still left enough room for you to decline. "Or... You can just tell me about your day instead? It doesn't have to be anything exciting. If you want, I can talk about mine."
Deciding you like the idea of having your lover's low, soft voice fill the silence; you offer yet another soft nod and gently rest your hands atop theirs. Unknowingly, your fingers brush against the silly little bow ring you gifted them upon a whim and it sends Moth's heart fluttering.
"Where to start... Well, I found this new anime recently — you might like it, actually." You felt them hum against your hair, "The premise looks really promising. It's about this isekaied retail worker who's been facing a lot of hardships in a brand new world, but despite everything they're going through, they keep persisting."
Moth pulls you closer to their side and gives you a soft squeeze.
"They... Okay, this miiiight sound cheesy, but— they remind me a lot of you. Very hardworking, supportive, resilient." You could almost feel Moth's smile grow as they continued, "Kind, helpful, determined. Now that I think about it, that character might just be a direct rip-off of you. Hey, do you think we could sue?"
An unflattering snort escapes the confines of your mouth at Moth's words, and you can't help but find yourself going along with it. "Pfft— You want to sue a giant production company?"
"Why not! Think of all the money we'd get once we win." Moth's head drops to the back of your neck now, holding you close as they continue talking. "Heh, we'd probably have enough to take a trip to Japan. Would you... Would you like that? It doesn't have to be Japan— anywhere is fine if it's with you, even if it's just to the city or back to Corland Bay."
"...You want to take a trip together?"
"Yeah! It'd be good for us, I think." If you focus hard enough, you'd be able to feel Moth place a chaste kiss against the clothed space between your shoulder blades. "We'd get a nice change of pace... and you won't be stressed out as much."
"Moth—"
"—I don't mind taking care of everything." All of a sudden, they sound serious. "Tell me when you can get some time off from work, and I'll plan everything. You won't have to worry about a thing!"
Moth's real name slips from your lips with ease.
Without missing a beat, you turn around until you're facing your beloved partner and rest your forehead against theirs — careful not to bump them with your nose. Soft, hazel eyes peer back at you, and before you can stop yourself, you lean in for a kiss.
Warmth and mirth flood your senses as Moth reciprocates with the same amount of tenderness, and for a brief moment in time, everything feels peaceful. Surrounded by nothing but pure love and adoration, you let your walls crumble down and let the light in. And just like a moth to a flame, your partner effortlessly gravitates towards you.
"Okay."
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sunflowersandsapphires · 10 months
Text
Not in this Alone (part 1)
pairing: Frank Castle x Matt Murdock x fem!reader (Fratt x fem!reader)
summary: After a week of stressful, lonely days, your boyfriends take the time to comfort you.
warnings: swearing, brief descriptions of stressful events (items breaking, period symptoms, sickness, etc)
a/n: This is the first half of a comfort fic that I wrote for my love @madschiavelique when she was having a terrible week a bit ago. I hope that you all find comfort in its softness!
w/c: 2.6k
Dropping your bag on the floor, you yanked your shoes off and plodded directly to your bed, planting face down into the mattress with a groan. A floorboard creaked behind you, signaling another presence, but your fatigue outweighed the anxiety you felt. 
“If you’re here to kill me, can you do it in the bathtub? This is a new mattress.” Your words were muffled by the layers of fabric over your face. 
The intruder chuckled deeply, “Not here to kill ya, sweetheart.” 
“Frankie?” You turned your face towards his gravelly voice, keeping the rest of your body pinned to the bed. It had been over a week since you’d seen him—and you weren’t expecting him to be home this soon—but there he was, in all his broad-shouldered glory. Dressed in sweats and a t-shirt, that was definitely not his given the way it stretched over his sculpted abdomen. He looked cozy and soft—clearly having been home for a few hours. 
“Hiya, doll. Your day was that good, huh?” He nodded down to your horizontal position, making you groan and turn your face back into the mattress. Huffing a laugh, he sat down beside you, stroking a large hand over your back. “Today’s your long day, ain’t that right?” 
Nodding tiredly, you hummed in appreciation as he rubbed circles into your tense shoulders. Frank pursed his lips, thinking for a moment before poking you in the side gently. “Get up for a sec, sweet girl. Let’s get ya into some comfier clothes.” 
Gluing your arms around your sides protectively, you whined, not lifting your torso from the bed. Undeterred, Frank pinched your hip before sliding his hand around your smaller figure and flipping you upright into his lap. Pressing a kiss to your cheek, he smirked at your exaggerated pout, “There’s my girl.” 
Shuffling out from underneath you, Frank planted another kiss on your cheek before standing to grab you a sweatshirt rather than the more presentable clothes you had on. Collapsing backward against the pillows, you stared blankly at the ceiling as you waited for Frank to return. After a grueling 11 hour day of traveling to and from your various art classes, you didn’t have the energy to do much else. On top of the sheer amount of time you’d been in public today, you’d been balancing a slew of intense bad luck–from your computer breaking to coming down with a cold. It had not been your week, and you’d been on your own to deal with most of it.
You knew that it wasn’t either of your partners’ faults, just incredibly terrible timing, but Matt had been sleeping at his own apartment all week after late nights at the office, and Frank had been out of town. The past few days had pushed you almost to your breaking point, but nothing actually terrible had happened, so you didn’t feel comfortable asking either of them to come to your aid. You’d been living a cycle of dosing up on medicine, going to class, coming home, and passing out–which was what you planned on doing before Frank interrupted you. 
As if your thoughts had summoned him, he padded back over with two garments in hand. He held up one of his own sweaters and Matt’s favorite Columbia crewneck. “Ok, doll, I wasn’t sure which you’d want, but…hey, what’s wrong?” 
A drop of moisture trailed down your cheek and you hastily wiped it away. Overly preoccupied with your own thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed the familiar prickle of tears in your eyes. “Nothing, Frank, just tired.” You sniffled, giving him an unconvincingly tiny smile.
Narrowing his eyes, Frank set the clothes aside, drawing you closer to him as if you weighed nothing. Draping you over his lap and holding you close, he studied you for a moment before cradling your cheek in one of his massive, calloused hands. “You sure?”
You shrugged, nuzzling into the cool touch. “It's just been a rough week, nothing to worry you or Matt about.” A part of you felt relieved that it was Frank in front of you rather than Matt, who would have surely called you out for lying. Though your treacherous emotions might have given you away regardless, given that salty tears continued to roll down your cheeks as Frank gently stroked the droplets off of your face. 
“I know I ain't a genius, but I can tell when you're hurtin’, doll. Talk to me?” His voice was as gravelly as ever, but his deep brown eyes pleaded with you, encouraging you to be honest about your woes. 
With another half-hearted shrug, you averted your gaze, focusing on your lap rather than your concerned boyfriend. “I dunno, it's been a long week, Frankie. I started my classes again, which is fine, but my PC broke when I was trying to finish up my assignments so I had to frantically email my professors to make arrangements. And then I started my period, and then I got sick, and then all these little things started piling up like the printer not working or my backpack breaking or my train being delayed and I just—” Your voice cut out as Frank pulled you into a tight embrace, pressing kisses against your hairline as more tears formed along your waterline. 
“Sweetheart, you shoulda called me. Or Red. You been dealin' with all this on your own?” His lips brushed over your forehead as he spoke. At your lack of response, he sighed. “Honey, we've talked about this.”
“I know, I know, but I didn't want to bother either of you with something so small.” You murmured against him, shivering as he rubbed your lower back. 
“You're not a bother, doll. Not now, not ever.” Frank tenderly rested his forehead against yours, touching your lips to his as he cradled the back of your head. “Here, why don't you put on my sweater?” 
Pulling back from the embrace, Frank tapped your arms, waiting patiently for you to lift your arms so he could remove your top and bra. After placing a soft kiss to your chest, he slipped the soft fleece over your head and arms, nodding in satisfaction at his handiwork.
“Better?” He held your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, lips quirked up in his signature barely-there smile. 
With a nod, you snuggled back into his embrace, sighing appreciatively when his fingers carded through your hair. 
“Glad to hear it, sweet girl. Let’s get you bundled up and we can order somethin’ to eat, yah?” 
Nodding again, you let him peel back the duvet before crawling off his lap and underneath the covers with trembling limbs. Sinking into the pillowy mattress, you sighed in relief—the exhaustion and stress of the past week sparking a deep ache in your bones. 
“Where do ya want me, babygirl?” Frank’s voice broke through your sleepy haze and you smiled despite your foul mood. Flopping onto your back, you made a grabby gesture at him. 
Chuckling quietly, Frank raised an eyebrow. “On top of ya? You’ll suffocate.” 
Pouting, you repeated the hand motions. Your throat was aflame after crying because of the stupid virus you’d picked up, leaving you hesitant to open your mouth again—but you wanted a Frank-shaped weighted blanket immediately to soothe your aches and pains. 
“Ok, doll, I won’t argue with ya after the shit week you’ve had. But promise me you’ll tap out if ya can’t breathe.” He waited for your eager nod before clambering on top of you and clumsily settling down. 
His body was tense as he held himself a few millimeters above your body, clearly still worried about crushing you. That simply wouldn’t do. Bringing your hands around his waist, you began kneading his back and shoulders in the way you knew he loved. 
Frank was fairly easy to please. A few well-placed touches to his upper back and he was putty in your hands. Running a single nail up his spine beneath his shirt, your lips broke into a grin at his deep, satisfied rumble. “Thought I was s’posed to be takin’ care of you.” He murmured, mashing his face against your neck. 
“You are. Just wanted you to relax.” You murmured, sleep tugging at your consciousness after the immense amount of energy you’d spent during your day of classes. Your voice must have revealed how desperately you needed a nap because Frank’s body shuddered with a laugh. 
“Sleep, sweetheart. I gotcha now.” 
Sandwiched between the mattress and the warm weight of your boyfriend, you let sleep drag you under. 
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A thundering rumble sounded in your stomach, the vibrations breaking you out of a peaceful slumber. Groaning, you clenched your arms around your waist, hoping the pressure would cause the intense hunger pangs to fade. During your impromptu nap, your delightfully warm, boyfriend-shaped weighted blanket had been replaced by the duvet. Eyes still closed, you reached across the bed, groping the sheets in an attempt to find your partner and drag him closer to you, but you were unsuccessful. Whining miserably, you opened one eye, wincing at the bright rays of the setting sun temporarily blinded you. 
The room was, upsettingly, empty. No grumpy-yet-adorable man to be found. Coughing pitifully, you whimpered, hands clenching around the blankets, as if they would bring you comfort like Frank had. Had your interaction this afternoon been a dream? Were you alone all along?
A drop of saline rolled down your face and splashed onto the pillow, the moisture cool against your warm skin. Sniffling feebly, you shut your eyes again, praying that sleep would take you before you could wallow in your loneliness for too long. 
“Sweetheart?” Wiping your eyes, you glanced to the doorway to find the source of the voice, spirits lifting when you saw two beautiful men staring back at you, brows puckered in concern. 
They were by your side in an instant; Matt sat at the edge of the bed next to your pillows and Frank crawled into bed beside you, kissing your forehead when you immediately latched onto him. Matt frowned, running a hand over your arm before sliding into a horizontal position at your back. 
Their warmth was divine. Four burly arms wrapped around you, tangling you between your two partners. Matt’s nose brushed your nape as Frank hooked his chin over your head, guiding your face into the junction of his neck and shoulder. Your entire body sagged in relief, so grateful to be surrounded by the two men who loved you more than you could comprehend, so happy that you weren’t alone in your anguish any longer. 
“You ok, my love?” Matt’s gentle, unexpected question pushed your delicate constitution into emotional turmoil. 
A choked cry ran through your body with a tremor. Barrier broken, your body was suddenly wracked with vicious sobs, interspersed with weak coughs and sniffles. 
The muscular walls around you compressed as your partners pressed impossibly closer, cooing in sympathy as you bawled. 
“Hey, you’re ok, doll. You’re ok.” Frank’s dulcet rumble shook his chest beneath your ear. 
“That’s it, darling. We’re here now.” Matt spoke quietly, kissing the shell of your ear when he finished. His large hand splayed over your stomach, rubbing gentle circles as you trembled. Frank’s hand mirrored the motion along your back. 
The pair of them continued caressing you tenderly as your cries gradually halted. Drawing in a deep, hiccuping breath, you wiped your eyes, a rush of embarrassment flooding your body. 
“‘M sorry.” You whispered, blinking back a new wave of ashamed tears. 
“Nothin’ to be sorry for, babygirl.” Frank promised. 
“After the week you had, I don’t blame you.” Matt sighed, placing a line of kisses down your neck. “Next time you’re this miserable, pretty girl, give me a call, ok? I’ll come check up on you at the very least. I don’t want you at home alone when you’re this upset.” 
“I didn’t know if I could ask you to come over.” You explained shakily. 
“Oh, love,” Matt sounded almost mournful, hugging you tightly from behind. “Always. I’ll always come for you.” 
You nodded, a few lingering tears slipping down your cheeks. 
“You’re a bit feverish, darling. Are you feeling ok?” Matt’s voice was tight with worry. 
Shrugging timidly, you sighed, burrowing further into the cocoon of limbs you were wrapped in. “‘M ok. Better now.” 
Frank huffed out a laugh, kissing the crown of your head. “Forgot to mention, she’s got a cold.” 
“On top of everything else? You poor thing.” Matt crooned, running a knuckle over your cheek comfortingly. 
“It’s nothing.” You assured them, because it really was the least of your worries right now, with all of your impending assignments and broken equipment. 
Your loves seemed unconvinced, but they didn’t say anything more on the subject. Instead, Frank switched gears. “I’m sorry I left ya, doll. I ran to pick up dinner and got stuck talking to this one,” He gave Matt’s arm a shove, “In the living room.” 
“You started talking to me!” Matt argued with a bright chuckle.
“You wish, Red. I was tryin’ to get back to my girl and you were blabberin’ on about court.”
”YOU asked ME how my day was!“
”Out of politeness, and you went way beyond the one word answer I was hoping for.“ 
”Well, excuse ME for thinking my partner wanted to hear about my day.“
The two continued bickering, their dramatic inhales expanding their chests, pushing you around like the bellows of an accordion. It could have been annoying, being jostled by their argument, but each swell of muscle reminded you of their presence, soothing your nerves. 
You let your limbs go slack, your body bouncing between the two sturdy frames surrounding you as if you were a ping pong ball. Smiling happily, you let their rising voices wash over you as you began to nod off again. 
”You alright, sweetheart?“ Frank's question startled you awake and you were unsure of how much time had passed. ”Ya got quiet on us.“
”'M fine. Sleepy.“ You responded, basking in the soft touches that you were once again bombarded with. 
Matt chuckled against your neck. “That makes sense, my darling girl. You can rest here with me while Frank gets the pizza.” 
You could practically hear Frank's resounding eye roll at Matt's demanding tone, but you were more interested in the promise of food. “Pizza?” You asked, hopefully.
“Yah, doll. Pizza. From your favorite place. Thought you deserved somethin' tasty after everythin' you had to deal with this week.” Frank kissed the tip of your nose, sliding out of your embrace and off the bed. “I'll be right back with it, ok?” 
“Mmmkay.” You yawned, making both men smile. Matt carefully maneuvered your body so that you were propped against his chest, sitting up ever so slightly. 
“There we go, pretty girl. How's that?” His lips tickled your forehead as he spoke and you giggled.
“Tickling me, Matty.” You whispered, tilting into his grasp with a sigh. 
“Thought you were s'posed to be helpin' her rest.” Frank remarked from the doorway, pizza box balanced precariously as he wolfed down a slice. 
Matt scoffed, “And I thought that pizza was for her.”
Shrugging, Frank smirked at his boyfriend. ”It's my tip. For the delivery.“ 
Matt snorted in response, taking the box from Frank so he could sit behind you. 
”Let's get some food into ya, doll. Then you can sleep as much as ya want, ok?“
The rest of the night was spent laying on a firm chest as the boys fed you slices of your favorite pizza, eventually falling asleep blanketed by their embrace. 
Admiring your beautiful face, your expression lax with sleep, Frank spoke as lowly as possible to avoid waking you. 
”We have some work to do, Red. You ok handlin' things here if I go out tomorrow?“ 
”Absolutely,“ Matt confirmed. ”It shouldn't take us long.“ 
”Nah, but it'll make her day.“
”And that's what's important.“ Matt smiled, kissing Frank's arm that was draped across the 3 of you. 
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