#the medicine seemed to help but he’s still burning up

[doctordiscosbignaturals]

bf has a 102.1 degree fever, i’m doing everything i can (ice pack/medicine/fluids) to break it

it’s literally his birthday tomorrow and i have so many things planned that he has no clue about 🥲 i’m going to feel sooooooooooo bad for him if he has to spend his birthday sick

[elia-the-bibliophile]

Stomach Bug (Max Verstappen x Female Reader)

Genre: Fluff Word count: 1,4k

Max hardly ever gets sick, but when he does, he turns into a complete drama king.

Y/N stepped into the apartment, immediately enveloped by an unsettling darkness. The silence was even more disturbing; the usual hum and glow from Max's sim racing setup were conspicuously absent. Her fingers fumbled for the light switch, fear gripped her heart. When she finally found it, the overhead lights flickered on, casting harsh shadows around the vacant living room.

“Max?” she called out, voice tinged with worry. She received no response, only the quiet pressing back at her. Panic bubbled up, and she hurried through the apartment, her mind racing with possibilities.

In the hallway leading to their bedroom, she tripped over something soft and warm. Looking down, she saw Jimmy and Sassy, their two cats, pacing restlessly. They meowed mournfully, their eyes reflecting the same concern she felt.

With a sense of dread, she pushed open the bedroom door. The room was dim, the curtains drawn tightly against the outside world. The only light came from a small bedside lamp casting a feeble glow over the disarrayed sheets.

On the bed, Max was curled up in a fetal position, his body trembling slightly. His face was buried in his arms, as if shielding himself. A pained groan escaped his lips.

“Max, oh my god, what's wrong?” she whispered, rushing to his side. She knelt on the floor, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. His skin was clammy and feverish.

Max flinched at her touch but didn't move away. “It's... it's the end,” he mumbled dramatically, his voice strained and barely audible. “I'm dying, schatje.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Dying? Max, what happened?” her tone firm but filled with concern. She brushed a few strands of hair that are sticking to his forehead, her fingers lingering to check his temperature. He was burning up.

“It's my stomach,” he groaned, shifting slightly to peer at her with one eye, the other still hidden in his arm. “And I have a fever. I'm pretty sure this is it. Tell the team... tell them I fought bravely.”

Y/N couldn't help but roll her eyes at his theatrics. “Max, honey, you have a stomach flu and a fever. You're not dying.”

“This is no ordinary flu,” he moaned, clutching his stomach. “I can feel my organs plotting against me. They're staging a coup!”

Despite her worry, a chuckle escaped her lips. “A coup, really? Let me get you some medicine and water. Have you taken anything yet?”

“No,” he replied, his voice pitiful. “I was too weak to move. I thought I should conserve my energy for my final moments.”

“Your final moments are a bit overdramatic,” she said, shaking her head with a fond smile. “I'll be right back.”

Oh, if only everyone could witness how ridiculously cute Max Verstappen looks when he's under the weather.

Jimmy and Sassy jumped onto the bed, curling up near Max's feet as if trying to offer their own comfort. Their presence seemed to soothe him slightly, and he let out a shaky breath.

Y/N returned with a glass of water and some medicine. “Here, take these,” she instructed, helping him sit up. He took the pills with exaggerated effort, making a face as he swallowed them.

“Ugh, even the medicine tastes like defeat,” he grumbled.

Y/N couldn't help but laugh. “The mighty Max Verstappen, laid low by a stomach bug. The world will mourn.”

He cracked a small, weak smile at her teasing. “Stop it, or I'll vomit just to spite you.”

“You're going to be fine,” she reassured him, peppering a few kisses on the side of his head.“Just rest and let the medicine do its job.”

Max sighed dramatically, closing his eyes. “If I don't make it... remember me as I was. Fast, fearless, and full of life.”

Y/N laughed softly while adjusting his pillow and blanket. “I'll remember you as you are: a dramatic, lovable idiot who will be just fine by morning.”

Max managed a weak smile. “I suppose that's acceptable.”

────────────────────────────────────

Y/N watched Max until his breathing slowed and he finally drifted off to sleep. His dramatic groans and exaggerated expressions faded into peaceful slumber, leaving a quiet calm in the room. She smiled softly before turning her attention to Jimmy and Sassy, who were still perched near Max's feet, their eyes wide and attentive.

“Alright, you two,” Y/N whispered, her tone mock-serious. “I need you to keep an eye on our drama king here while I go make dinner. Think you can handle it?”

Jimmy meowed as if to say, “We got this,” while Sassy flicked her tail, as if acknowledging the weighty responsibility.

Y/N chuckled. “Good. If he wakes up and starts acting like he's on his deathbed again, just give him the 'you're being ridiculous' look. You know the one.”

With one last affectionate glance at Max, she tiptoed out of the bedroom and headed to the kitchen.

As she chopped vegetables, she couldn't help but imagine Jimmy and Sassy as tiny, furry nurses. Jimmy, with a stern expression, patrolling the foot of the bed like a guardian, and Sassy, lounging elegantly, occasionally casting a disapproving glance at Max whenever he stirred or muttered in his sleep.

The thought made her giggle, and she shook her head. “What a day,” she murmured, stirring a pot of carrot soup on the stove.

As she continued cooking, Y/N kept an ear out for any signs of distress from the bedroom. The occasional muffled groan floated down the hallway.

Dinner was almost ready when she heard a particularly loud groan followed by a meow that sounded suspiciously like Jimmy trying to shush Max.

“Looks like my reinforcements are doing their job,” she said with a laugh, pouring the delicious smelling soup into bowls. She added some bread to a plate and carried the tray carefully back to the bedroom.

Entering quietly, she saw that Max was still asleep, albeit with a slightly dramatic frown on his face. Jimmy was curled up by his side, looking very pleased with himself, while Sassy had taken up residence on Max's pillow, one eye half-open in lazy vigilance.

“You two did great,” Y/N whispered, setting the tray down on the bedside table. "Now let's see if we can get him to eat something."

As she gently woke Max, he blinked groggily, his eyes focusing on her. “Schat... what time is it?”

“It's half past eight,” she replied softly.

Max groaned, his face scrunching up in dismay. “Oh no, I was supposed to play padel with Lando, Alex, and the others tonight. I forgot to cancel on them.”

Y/N smiled, shaking her head affectionately. “Don't worry about it. How about I call Lando for you and let him know you're out of commission for the night?”

Even in his sickness, Max managed to give her an incredulous look. “Why do you even bother asking? You can open my phone anytime. You're practically the other half of my brain.”

She laughed, reaching over to the nightstand to grab his phone. “I just like to be polite, you know? Didn't want to intrude on any top-secret racing strategies.”

Max chuckled weakly, then winced as his stomach reminded him of its displeasure. “Trust me, no strategies. Just lots and lots of cat memes.”

Unlocking his phone, Y/N scrolled through his contacts until she found Lando's number. She pressed the call button, holding the phone to her ear while keeping an eye on Max.

After a few rings, Lando's cheerful voice answered, “Max! Where are you, mate?”

“Hi, Lando, it's actually Y/N,” she said. “Max is feeling pretty terrible right now. Stomach flu and a fever.”

“Oh no, poor Max.” Lando replied, his tone immediately concerned. “Is he going to survive, or do we need to send an ambulance?”

Max, overhearing the conversation, groaned dramatically from the bed. “Tell him I'm fighting valiantly but I don't know if I'll make it.”

Y/N relayed the message, rolling her eyes playfully. “He says he's fighting valiantly but might not make it.”

Lando laughed. “Classic Max. Tell him to rest up and we'll catch him next time. And give him our best.”

“Will do, Lando. Thanks,” Y/N said, ending the call. She turned back to Max, who was watching her with a tired but grateful smile.

“You always know how to handle everything,” he said softly.

She smiled, setting his phone back on the nightstand and handing him the bowl of soup. “That's what I'm here for. Now, eat this. It's carrot soup, made with love.”

He took the bowl, looking at her with genuine affection. “Thanks, schatje. You're the best. This smells lovely.”

As he eats, Jimmy and Sassy moved in closer, as if to supervise the meal. Y/N sat beside him, ready to keep his spirits high.

[serafilms]

FIRST DATE, KINDA NERVOUS

part 2 of the golden quartet

art donaldson x reader, slight tashi duncan x reader, slight patrick zweig x reader

summary: the story of your first kiss with art donaldson in a hotel room, and your first date in a diner. cute, fluffy, healthy, a tiny bit suggestive but not really. group polyamory dynamics hinted at. (play: so high school by taylor swift). wc: 3.5k

“What do you think?”

You shrugged. “They’re cute, they seem nice, and your backhand is like, a million times stronger than theirs, so I reckon you could take them in a fight.”

“What, you wouldn’t help?”

“Please. I’m too weak for that,” you said, shaking your wrist limply in Tashi’s face.

She rolled her eyes at you and pushed it out of the way. “Whatever, fine. We’re going.”

She ran her fingers through her hair. After showering, the straight hair from the party had disappeared, giving way to her natural waves. You always thought she looked prettier this way. Softer, somehow.

“Yay,” you said simply. “But just remember that my parents placed my safety and care in your hands, so if we get, like, murdered or something—”

“Oh, shut up,” Tashi groaned, a laugh bubbling out of her mouth, “you were just endorsing them.”

“Yeah, well. I’m indecisive.”

The smile that slowly spread across Tashi’s face told you all you needed to know. Ten seconds later you had grabbed and shrugged on your jacket and the two of you were climbing your way out of her bedroom window.

Now, you’re sitting on the floor of a hotel room, Tashi on your left and Art on your right, Patrick laying comfortably across from you, propped up by his elbows.

The beer in your hand is pretty shitty, which is a fact you find odd considering you can only assume it was either stolen from one of their parents, or paid for using a bribe, and in both of those cases, wouldn’t the beer be better?

But maybe that’s not what you should be focusing on right now, you think, as Patrick leans forwards to take it from your hand. His fingers brush yours as the can crosses over. For the last hour or so, the four of you have gone through eleven cans of beer, each consumed one at a time, being passed around like a bong.

Your eyes linger on the way Patrick’s mouth engulfs the opening of the can, right where yours had just been, and the way he passes it right to Tashi, who does the same as she takes a sip. The flush of heat in your face and belly are hard to ignore, and you’re not too sure how much of it can be attributed to the alcohol.

There’s a stutter in your chest as Art nudges you with his elbow. “So what are you planning on majoring in?”

His cheeks and ears also look flushed, but you think that might just be a consequence of the story Patrick told earlier. It was a sweet story; you assured the boy next to you of that when he’d buried his face in his hands, but he still seemed a little perturbed.

It was a sweet story though, you muse. Tashi said that they seemed like brothers, but you thought they seemed like they were an old married couple.

You’re brought back out of your thoughts as Tashi hands you the beer. “Oh, um. I’m not too set on anything yet, but I think maybe journalism.”

Patrick lets out a whistle. “What, not physiotherapy or sports medicine?”

You shrug, and before you can stop yourself, you say, “Just because I was a tennis player doesn’t mean it’s my whole personality.”

Immediately, you wince. Wrong place, wrong time. You steal a quick glance at Tashi, but she seems unaffected. Right. It’s Tashi. The last thing she feels is insecure. She simply looks at you.

But for good measure, you add, “I mean, I can still do sports news, or something.”

Against the better judgement of your burning stomach and your sluggish thoughts, you take another swig and then pass the can to Art.

“Journalism suits you,” he comments quietly as he takes it. You give him a small smile. He takes a small sip of the beer, and you can’t help but watch the way his Adam’s apple shifts when he swallows.

“I need some ice,” announces Tashi. She rises from her position on the floor.

Patrick wastes no time in scrambling up too. “I’ll come with!”

Tashi gives you a look like she’s exasperated, but you know better from the way she waits for Patrick to grab his key and open the door for her. She doesn’t look back as she walks out, but Patrick calls out a teasing, “See you guys later,” before the door closes fully.

When you turn your head towards Art, you see that he’s looking right at you.

“You sure do that a lot,” you mumble.

He smiles in a way that seems endeared and a little confused. “What?”

“Stare.”

“Sorry, I just—”

“No, no, it’s fine. It’s nice. I- I, uh.” Your thoughts are racing, everywhere and nowhere all at once, as you struggle to find the words. The way Art looks at you sends a buzz of something in your abdomen, and your mind becomes all the more scrambled. “I need to stand up.”

You stand quickly, maybe too quickly, and immediately stumble.

“Whoa, you okay?” Art’s quick to jump to his feet. His hands find their place on either side of your waist to steady you. Now you really can’t focus.

“Yeah,” you hear yourself say, “I think I should sit down instead.”

You’re very aware of the fact that his hand stays on your waist as you bumble over to the edge of the bed and take a seat.

There’s a pang of disappointment when his hand leaves your waist, and another when he stands unsurely in front of you. You pat the spot next to you.

“Sit. Please.”

He complies. Perched on the edge of the bed, hands in his lap, he’s much closer than when you were sitting on the floor together. You fiddle with your hands and steal glances at him every now and then.

“I wanted to ask you,” Art breaks the silence, “do you ever miss it?”

You don’t need to ask what he means by ‘it.’

There’s a moment where you gaze off, eyes wandering towards the door, before they return to the boy next to you and you shake your head.

“I don’t, not really.” You bite the inside of your cheek in thought. “It was fun for a while, and I liked being good at something, but I think I just fell out of love with it after a while. Like my whole life became just tennis, and thinking about a future in tennis. If I’m being honest, the injury was like a miracle to me.”

Art looks thoughtful at that. “What’s so wrong with a life of tennis?”

“Well. I mean, nothing, I guess. It just took a lot more time and effort than I would’ve liked. And there’s all the things I had to give up for it.”

He looks at you like he’s waiting for you to continue, so you do. “Cheeseburgers, sleeping in. Love.”

The bed dips closer to you as he shuffles a little closer. It prompts you to look back up at him.

The curls on his forehead hang low, just over his eyes. His hand rests just next to your thigh, and he rests his weight on it to lean just a bit closer. “You don’t think you can be in love and play tennis at the same time?”

Art’s presence has a magnetic effect on you. There’s a gravitational pull that has you angling your body towards him and moving ever so slightly closer to him.

“I don’t know. Do you?”

His eyes dart down to your lips. It’s an action that doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and you feel the corners of your mouth twitch upwards as you do the same. You can almost feel the warmth of his exhale as your faces draw closer and closer.

“Can I?” Art whispers.

“Please,” you respond.

His hand comes off the bed to rest on your cheek, and then he’s kissing you. It’s soft, gentle, but there’s an urgency in the way his tongue teases the entrance of your lips, and the way he moves even closer towards you, almost as if he’s chasing you.

Your hands find themselves at the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. His other hand moves to rest on your waist. Then your thigh. You let out a hum as your stomach does a little leap. Then, he pulls away for a fraction of a second to take you in, before his lips are on yours again. It’s electric, when he tilts his head slightly to the other side, when the hand on your cheek slides down to your jaw to bring you closer, when you hear a low groan in the base of his throat as his hand slides to the inner part of your thigh.

Then you hear the key at the door, and you both jump apart.

Tashi has a cup of ice water in her hand when she surveys the scene in front of her.

Your bodies are still angled suspiciously towards each other and your hands both rest awkwardly in your laps. Little is left to the imagination. You can still feel the butterflies in your stomach and the racing of your heart when Patrick raises his eyebrows at the two of you, a grin on his face.

“So,” he begins, “what have you guys been up to?”

Art and you speak at the same time. “Oh, you know, nothing much.” “Just chilling.”

Tashi’s face is thoughtful, as she looks at you and her lips quirk up in a smile. She nods her head to the door behind her. “Well, it’s late. We should go.”

Your eyes dart back and forth between the three people in the room. Slowly, you stand, giving Art an awkward kind of smile as you brush past him.

“Wait,” Patrick exclaims, “can I get your phone number?”

She shrugs back at him, holding the door open. “Play some real tennis tomorrow, and then I’ll give you my number.”

“So like, if I win?”

“You don’t have to win to play well.”

You’re not sure where this leaves you and Art in the mix, but Tashi is looking at you expectantly from the doorway, and you fear you don’t have the time to decide now. With an apologetic look and a wave, you mutter, “See you guys,” and then you’re out the door.

In the end, Patrick does win. He gives a flourishing bow as Tashi shrugs and applauds him. She turns to whisper something in your ear, but the words make no contact with your thoughts. As Art looks dejectedly at his racket, then at his best friend across the court, you stand abruptly. Tashi looks at you, bewildered.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Wait, I was—”

Whatever her next words are, they die in her throat as she sighs and watches you thread your way through the stands and go down the stairs to the side of the court.

“Hey!” you call out. Art’s head perks up and his eyes search for the source of the sound until they land on you. He jogs to meet you.

“Hi.”

“Um,” you say, feeling suddenly like your foot has been shoved into your mouth, “you did really well.”

Art looks at you deadpan, but a smile starts to show in his eyes. “I lost.”

“Still, you were really good.” Your eyes glue themselves to the floor as you start to regret coming over so hastily without planning what to say.

“Well, thanks. Really. It means a lot coming from you.” Looking back up, you see him scratching the back of his head nervously. It’s an odd look, considering he’s also drenched in sweat, and his glistening skin makes him look even more nervous than he is. “Look, uh. I know we didn’t make a deal or anything, but do you think I could get your number?”

Maybe this wasn’t such a mistake. “Yeah, I think I could make that happen.”

SIX WEEKS LATER.

God, you’re stressed right now. The hem of your top has fallen victim to your incessant fiddling as you tug at it, scrunch it up, release it and repeat.

“You’re acting like it’s your first date ever,” Tashi says, rolling her eyes. There’s a smile playing at her lips that tells you she isn’t trying to be as mean as she sounds.

“He’s cute, okay? I’m nervous.”

Tashi comes up behind you and you meet her eyes in the mirror. A shiver runs down your spine as she tugs at the collar of your jacket, knuckles brushing your neck in the process.

“You should take this off.”

“What? Why?” You stare at her reflection. “I know it’s still summer, but it’s nighttime, so­ like…” Her deadpan expression has you trailing off. “What?”

“You can wear his jacket instead.”

There’s a hollow silence as your mouth forms an ‘o’. Your fingers move to tug at the sleeves of the jacket, gaze averted from hers for a moment.

“You think he’ll offer?”

Another eye roll. “The guy’s like, obsessed with you. Of course he’ll offer. Doesn’t hurt to throw in a little shiver either.”

“What if he’s not wearing a jacket?”

“Oh, he’s wearing a jacket.” She waves her cell phone in your face. “Patrick texted me an update.”

You grin and shrug off the jacket as you turn to face her. “Who knew Tashi Duncan was such a sucker for clichés?”

“I’m just trying to make sure your date goes well,” Tashi scoffs as she snatches the jacket from your hands. “You’re the one who swoons every time you watch a romcom.”

She’s right about that one.

Tashi smacks her lips as she hangs your jacket back up in your closet. “I still don’t get why you’re so nervous. I thought we broke all the ice at the hotel.”

“Well, I can still be nervous. Just because you and Patrick had sex two weeks ago doesn’t mean I have to be as confident.”

She sighs because you’re right. Tonight is your first date. With Art. Not your first date ever. But you sure do feel nervous enough to pretend it is.

You and Art have been texting nonstop for the last six weeks, but between the odd part time jobs you’ve picked up over the summer and his tennis training, you haven’t had any time to hang out, unless your best friends who managed to squeeze in their first date, first time and first sleepover together all in one go. But Tashi and Patrick are much more go getter than you.

Tashi didn’t give you shit for your lack of fervour in pursuing whatever relationship you and Art had, but you still felt a little perturbed when she called you the day after her night with Patrick, and told you that he’d asked about you guys.

(“Does he not talk to Art about it?” you asked.

“He said Art’s happy, but he wanted to know how things were going on your end. Since you guys have only been texting.”)

So now you feel pressured. Like somehow your relationship is linked to Patrick and Tashi. Like they’re waiting for you guys to catch up.

But you don’t say any of that. Because you want things to go at your own pace, you keep quiet. Because you don’t want to speak it into existence, even if Tashi will roll her eyes and call you ridiculous for it because she knows your life is yours and hers is hers, despite the way she keeps trying to push you in certain directions.

When the doorbell inevitably rings, you and Tashi exchange looks. She gives you a nod. It’s more firm than comforting, like she’s sending you off to play at Wimbledon and she knows you’re going to win.

Your parents aren’t home for the next few days, which is why you strategically planned your date for tonight, because God forbid they use their last few weeks with you living under their roof to embarrass you in front of a guy. You almost expect Tashi to answer the door for you as if she’s your mother, but instead, she shoves your bag in your chest, says, “I’m using your shampoo and eating all your snacks,” and pushes you out of the bedroom door, then closes it.

One last check in the nearest reflective surface, and you’re ready.

Art is dressed casually, like you, in jeans and a polo. Tashi was right in saying that he would wear a jacket. In the light of your front porch, he looks especially gentle, the warm light threading through his hair like a halo.

The smile that lights up his face when you open the door has the potential to end your whole bloodline, you swear. The way your heart rate picks up feels like some kind of fight or flight response, but you’re willing to ignore it all for him.

“Hey,” he says. His voice has a comforting cadence, you think. It’s been six weeks since you’ve last heard it, since you were always too scared to call him. But it’s a sound like coming home.

“Hi,” you speak softly.

There’s a bouquet in his hands, which he holds out to you, one hand tucked in his jeans. “I brought these for you.”

You take them gingerly, trying to fight the grin that threatens to split your face in half. He’s so cute. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

You put them on the table just inside. Tashi will eventually make her way downstairs and put them in some water for you. Closing the door, you turn back to Art, who holds his hand out to you. It’s such a strangely innocent gesture that you almost catch yourself giggling like a schoolgirl.

“Shall we?”

You take it, grinning like a madman. “We shall.”

“I never got to hear what you want to major in.” The fry in your hand is currently being waved around as though you’re conducting an orchestra.

“Oh. I don’t know,” Art averts his eyes to his plate. “I haven’t thought about it much.”

“I won’t judge,” you prompt gently.

He looks contemplative, and wets his bottom lip with his tongue briefly before looking up at you. “Okay.”

“Okay…” You gesture your fry towards him.

“You promise you won’t judge?” He asks, bobbing his head questioningly at you

You lean towards the table with your hand over your heart. “I swear it.”

“Physics. Or engineering.”

Sitting back in your seat, you survey him.

“That suits you,” you say genuinely. After you’ve said the words, you’re reminded all too well of the night in the hotel room again, and your cheeks warm.

“Thanks,” Art says, gazing at you. “Patrick says that too, before he calls me a loser.”

“I’m guessing you’re more studious than he is.”

“You’d be right.”

Another sip of your milkshake. “I think it’s cool. Maybe we’ll even have some classes together.”

Art smiles his eye-crinkling smile across the table. “Yeah, maybe we will.”

You don’t even need to pretend to shiver. The second you’ve stepped out of the restaurant, Art’s jacket is slipped onto your shoulders. It’s warm, and smells faintly like sandalwood mixed with laundry detergent. You resist the urge to inhale the collar. Instead you smile shyly, and take his hand. There’s a knot forming in your chest at the thought of the night being over, but when the two of you reach his car, Art doesn’t take out his keys. He turns and leans against the side of his car, hand still entwined with your own.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” he says simply.

Your lips quirk up in amusement. “So did I.”

He hums. Your hands are swung from side to side as he looks down at them. You can’t help the laugh that escapes you as you step closer.

“What are you thinking about?” you whisper. You know what he’s thinking about.

He looks down at you, and does a one shoulder shrug. “I’m thinking about how much I want to kiss you.”

Your heart stops and gets jumpstarted again in the span of about six milliseconds. God. You knew it was coming, but you still couldn’t prepare yourself.

“Not asking anymore, are we?” You grin, chest thumping like crazy.

“Oh, come on.” With a tug on your hand, you’re pulled flush against him, chest to chest.

Art leans in to your ear, and whispers as if divulging a well-kept secret. “May I please kiss you?”

The tickle of his breath over your jaw sends a zap of electricity through every single nerve in your body. Your breath hitches. “You may.”

You’re not sure you’ll ever get sick of Art Donaldson’s smile. The curve of his mouth as he leans in, brushing his nose to yours before your lips meet.

Your computer pings.

Patrick Zweig sent you a friend request.

You raise an eyebrow and hit ‘accept.’

A minute later, there’s another notification.

Patrick Zweig wrote on your wall. “Congratulations on a successful first date with @Art Donaldson! 😘”.

[gglitch1dd]

Just thinking about dilf Izuku sucking readers tits dry while she’s lactating or he helps her get rid of a clogged boob🥱

I like you, anon. I really like you.

Husband Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader

Warning: SMUT, parenthood, LACTATION kink, underlying breeding kink, squirting, Izuku being damn right shameless. HEAVY Praise and body worship, soft dom Izuku.

You let out a sigh as you finally undid your maternity bra. You rubbed your areola, letting out a hiss at the pain. Today seemed like an off day for you, where everything just felt wrong. Asahi had been crying all day and Toshinori was running a fever and both boys didn't want to eat anything.

This was one day you felt as though whatever could go wrong with your children was happening.

You walked out of the closet noticing your husband walk back into the bedroom. "I managed to put Asahi to bed. Seems like the poor guy had some gas he couldn't release." He explained to you, talking about your youngest out of your two boys.

You nodded with a relieved expression. "Thank you, Izu." You said softly as you moved to sit down on the bed with a frown on your face.

Izuku studied you for a moment. You were quite. He could tell that something was bothering you and after the day you both had, he couldn't blame you. He had to go for three hours to sign an important document this morning but when he came back, it's as if all hell broke loose.

"My love..." Izuku started as he walked over to where you were sitting. His eyebrows were furrowed as he watched you for another moment. He crouched down in front of you, taking your hands in his own. His big scarred hands ran over your knuckles. "Are you okay? Don't worry, Toshinori has already taken medicine and is dead asleep and I'm sure Asahi just had a bad day today. Bad days happen and it will be better tomorrow."

You let out a sigh, but nodded. "I know, honey. I know, but it was so tiresome." You let out as you leaned back closing your eyes. "You know how worried I get when Toshi gets sick. He's only three but he's so stubborn and he doesn't want to eat anything. Last time we had to take him into the emergency because he was dehydrated. And Asahi just won't drink."

Izuku raised an eyebrow at that, confused as to what you meant. "What do you mean?"

You opened your eyes as you looked at him. "I think I'm making too much milk. Toshinori always was hungry but Asahi won't even suckle for more than ten minutes at a time. It's like he gets fed up." You felt tears move to your eyes, your eyes burning as you looked down at your chest. "I feel so pent up. I can only pump so much but it hurts because it feels so heavy and there's so much I have left."

"Hey, hey, hey." Your husband let out softly as he moved to pull you into his arms as tears fell from your eyes. He moved to rub your back as he sat beside you. His large arms wrapped around you securely, putting a kiss to the top of your head. You buried your face in his chest, letting out a stuttered breath at the feeling of his warm embrace. "I'm right here, honey. I'm right here." He spoke so comfortingly that it almost made you want to cry harder. "Why didn't you tell me that you were struggling with feeding him?" He asked you softly.

You sniffed. "I didn't want to disappoint you. I handled Toshinori so well so I thought Asahi would be similar."

Izuku let out a light chuckle as he kissed the top of your head. "Remember that no child is the same, my love." He moved to look down at you, tilting your head up to look at him. He had a gentle smile on his freckled face, his green eyes were warm as he looked at you. "It isn't your fault, Y/N. You've been doing nothing wrong." He assured you.

You tried looking away from him, tears slipping down your face as you tried to control your emotions. However, his affirmation that you were doing alright and you weren't messing up made you only feel more emotional.

"Some kids just eat less than others. He's still a healthy little boy and he isn't sick or underweight. He's just not as hungry. Okay?"

"Okay."

He nodded his head, moving to kiss your lips gently. You let out a stuttered breath at the action but you nodded your head along with him. You were so glad that Izuku took all the time off that he did whenever you gave birth. You weren't sure how you would manage with a three year old and a newborn but you were so glad that he was right there alongside you.

Izuku peered down at you. "Does it hurt?" He asked. You looked up at him with a confused expression. He motioned to his pecs with a broad gesture making you giggle at his roundabout way of asking about the state of your breasts.

You nodded your head. "Yah, it does." You sniffed, nodding your head. "It's just full more than anything."

He nodded his head, understanding what you meant. He took a moment before speaking again. "Can I help?" He asked.

You felt heat go up your neck at the question. It wasn't the first time he had tasted your milk (nor would it be the last) but anytime that you or him asked never ceased to make you flustered. "Are you sure?"

He hummed with a nod of his head, a kind smile despite the lewd intentions he had. "I want to take care of you tonight." He expressed.

Without warning you, Izuku picked you up in his arms making you squeak. He chuckled before carefully moved to put his back against the headboard with you in his lap. You sat there perched on his lap as he carefully moved your shirt over your shoulders. You allowed him to, allowing him full access of your breasts.

Immediately at the sight of them, his eyes dropped away from your face. You couldn't help but chuckle at how for a few seconds, you were sure Izuku had no thoughts going on inside his head.

"Hm?" He asked, his eyes taking a second before they flicked up at you.

You shook your head. "You are such a man, Izuku."

He let out a scoff before a broad smile went to his face. "Honey, I think anyone who catches their eyes on a great set of knockers is going to stop and stare." He explained only making you giggle. "Besides, they look delicious."

"Izuku." You gave him a pointed look but you couldn't help the smile. "Don't get any bright ideas. Remember, this is only happening because of Asahi."

"And Asahi doesn't want it. Less for him, more for me."

"IZUKU!"

He chuckled as his large hands moved to gently grasp your breasts. Immediately you let out a whimper at the feelings of his grip on you. He noticed how sensitive you were, and noted that he should be careful. He gently moved to massage your breasts, gently kneading at them. You let out a breath as you tried your best not to pull back at the slight pain.

"You're right, you are quite full." He let out softly. The only reason Izuku would notice as much as he did, is because at anytime that he caught you breastfeeding he would always try to cope a feel (shameless man).

Carefully, his green emerald eyes flicked up to you. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned forward, lapping his tongue over your nipple. He was gentle as he carefully put your breast in his mouth making you clench on nothing at the intensity of his eyes.

He gently started to suck, making you hiss as you moved to grip onto his shoulders. He didn't relent, knowing that it was going to hurt before it got better. He was gentle, carefully massaging at your breast while sucking. It didn't take longer than a few seconds before the sweet drops of milk touched his tongue.

He hummed at the taste, sucking a bit harder knowing that now you were flowing. Your breaths were heavy as you sat on his lap, allowing him to drink from you. You couldn't deny that him helping you like this was damn arousing. Your husband had always put in the effort to help you as best as he could, and you were so grateful for him.

Then again, it was the least he could do for you being his wife and the mother to his children.

Izuku moved to massage your other breast, with his right hand while his left hand moved down your body. You couldn't even seem to care where his hands were going, you were just glad that the pressure you felt was finally being lifted and you felt so good at your husband's touch.

Then you jolted with a squeak and wide eyes. Izuku had what you could only identify as a smirk considering that his mouth was full. His hand had found its way down your cotton panties. His fingers moving to fiddle with your clit. Your eyebrows furrowed in faux concentration as you moved to hold onto his shoulders, trying to stabilise yourself.

It felt so good having his hands on you. His fingers always knew just how you liked to be played with and always knew just where to touch and when. The circles he rubbed into your cunt made you relax as you arched your back, pushing your chest further into his grasp.

Izuku gasped, leaving your left breast with a groan. "You taste so good, sweetheart. You have so much to give." He said noticing that the breast he had just left had just started dripping a bit. He noticed that tonight might just get messy.

He grinned at the thought.

He moved to your right breast, finally giving it the attention it was neglected of. You let out a loud moan as you threw your head back and started grinding down on his hand that cupped your cunt. "Yes... Yes, Izu. Just- just suck a bit harder. Just a tiny bi- FUCK~" You moaned as your eyes rolled back, grinding down on his calloused hand.

He chuckled. "You're so wet for me beautiful. You must be really enjoying yourself." He murmured against your breast. He let out a moan at the pleasurable taste, drinking as much milk as he could to put you at ease. You were absolutely dripping on his hand and your breasts were leaking milk past his mouth and on his chest.

Izuku knew that if he died right now, he would have no complaints.

He let go of your right breast with a pup, moving to massage it like he had been doing with your left one. "Come on baby, you're doing so good." He praised you, your small keens and moans filling the air as the only thing you could think of was coming. You were chasing that high, pushing yourself against his hand and basically bouncing on his lap in need. He kept the pace just like you liked it, being careful not to speed up or slow down. Kissed your sternum. "Come for me, my love. Come for me. You're so beautiful, mama. You deserve it. You're almost there."

You let out a whimper, your thighs shaking but not being quite there yet. You let out a frustrated cry as you flicked your teary eyes at him needly. "Help." You whispered.

He chuckled as he wrapped his arm around you, turning the both of you around so that you can lie on your back underneath him. He moved to fingers inside you, easily finding that spot that had you clamping down on his fingers hard. A deep groan left your lips as you arched up against him.

"There we go." He praised, moving his fingers fast and hard, making sure his thumb stimulated your clit. "There you go, such a good girl. You're my good girl. You can do it, my love. You can do it. You're almost there." You couldn't think, you could barely even breathe other than to moan and cry like a whore. You let out a broken sob at the pounding of his fingers in that area. He reached down to careful bite your nip between his teeth just gently and suddenly you saw white.

A broken moan left your mouth as you were in complete ecstasy.

At the amount of slick against his hand Izuku chuckled as he realised you were squirting. "There it is. Good girl. You're so perfect." He praised as his fingers didn't slow down. The dragged out your orgasm long and hard, letting slick gush over his hand and arm as he did so.

You gasped with a sigh fallling back into bed with a whimper, trying to closer your legs. Izuku took that as an indication to stop. Slowly slipping his hand out of your now drenched cotton underwear.

He sat up on his knees, looking at the beautiful masterpiece that was you sprawled out in front of him. You were heaving for air, tired and worn out but covered in slick between your thighs and milk on your chest. Your eyes closed as you floated on cloud nine for a moment.

Izuku looked down at his hand with a chuckle, sticking the two fingers that were inside you in his mouth with a hum. He licked them clean before leaning down to you. "Such a good girl." He praised as he kissed your forehead. You let out a soft whine, and instantly he moved to wrap his arms around you, picking you up in his arms. "My amazing wife. You're so spectacular. That was amazing sweetheart. Do you feel better?" He asked as he carried you to the bathroom.

You nodded your head tiredly in the crook of his neck.

He hummed. "I bet you do. You did so well for me. You did so well. I'm so proud of you." He praised as he walked into the bathroom, keeping the lights off as not to disturb the cloud you were floating on.

He carefully grabbed a cloth, putting it in warm water, all while holding you up with one hand. He knew you wouldn't want to let go of him so he worked around you. He walked back into the bedroom, the lights staying dim as he lay you back down on his side of the bed, wrapping you up in a different blanket. He carefully wiped you clean, praising you softly with whispers.

You weren't even sure what happened by the time your mind was half back. You were in new pyjamas with the bed sheets changed and feeling clean. Your husband had slid into bed with you, petting down your back with a soft hum out of his chest. You fell right to sleep, dead asleep.

Izuku knew that he probably didn't get all the milk out, but that would be dealt with later. As in, midnight.

-Glitch1d

[Izuku Midoriya Masterlist]

[countcvnt]

Experiment

Chapter One: Scrambled

[Poly!TF141/Fem!Reader]

Summary: Your memory is hazy, almost nonexistent, after being plucked out of a safe house and experimented on for months. When you're finally rescued you don't remember the people closest to you. Warnings: Canon Typical Violence (not much else this chapter), me using an english to scottish translator, not beta read Word Count: 3.3k A/N: Had this silly idea and turned it into a serious/angsty fic. I hope you all will like it as much as I do! Also, Reader has a call sign! It's Ace. If you prefer, you can read it here on AO3

Your eyes are heavy, your body burns, and you can't stop shaking. You aren't even sure of where you are. Your eyes are trained ahead of you, looking at what you assume is a two way mirror. A scientist is standing to the side of you messing with some needles and medicines. Your half lidded eyes cut towards him and you see a thick blue substance in a syringe.

“What's that?” You croak, voice hoarse.

“Hm?” The scientist doesn't even look at you, “curious now, are we?” He asks, pulling the syringe up and turning to you. He doesn't answer your question though, not in a way you would like. “We are about to figure out what this is.”

‘We’. Your stomach flips. He didn't even seem to know what it was. You accept your fate. You have from the very beginning. You don't know how long you've been part of this ‘program’, and to you, it didn't matter anymore. The only thing that matters is trying to get out alive. No one seemed to be coming for you. No one has in all of the days you've been hidden away. You didn't expect anyone to save you now. So, you had decided to save yourself. Figuring out how to do that was becoming difficult though.

You know that behind that two way mirror are a bunch of guards. You know they're heavily armed. You know, no matter what they have juiced you up with, you aren't beating a bunch of armed men. So, you sit idly. Letting them poke and prod and decide you are going to wait until the perfect opportunity shows itself. You just have to hold on until it does.

A loud alarm suddenly rings throughout the building and you cover your ears, flinching. The scientist seems more agitated than anything. He doesn't seem as bothered as you are, by any means.

“Guards!” He calls out, looking towards the large mirror. “Guards?” He questions.

He puts a finger up at you, asking for you to wait a minute. As if you have any other choice. A loud bang comes from outside the room and chills run up your spine. The guard walks towards the door and he peeks out. He quickly shuts and locks the door before returning back to you. He scurries over towards the metal stand beside your seat. He grabs the syringe and picks it up.

Something clicks in you. The alarms are still blaring and the guards seem to be gone to check it out. You watch as the syringe comes towards you, headed right for your neck. You move faster than you're used to, and grab the man’s hand and push him back. A lot harder than you had meant to. He slides back and hits the wall. The syringe does not leave his hand.

You rush towards the door. You wiggle the door knob and try to rip the door open. It doesn't budge. You turn your head back and see the scientist steadying himself. Fear kicks in.

“Help!” You scream, slamming your fists into the door. “Please, help me!”

“That was really stupid,” the man behind you says. “No one can hear you, no one is coming to save you. They haven't yet, have they?”

Tears prick your eyes. You turn back around and your back hits the door.

“Y'know, I'm going to be honest.” He stalks towards you. “I know they picked you because you're so… compliant. But really? I think that big guy with the mask would have been a better choice.”

That stings. “Who?”

“Which one?”

“Both.”

“You know I can't give out classified information. But if this works, I promise, you'll know everything. As for the other guy? I'm surprised you don't know who I'm talking about. But honestly, after all the brain scrambling you've had done to you, I understand how you don't remember him…”

You lose it. Something in you snaps. You lunge forward and grab the man. The both of you tussle briefly. Until you get him pinned. Your body slams into his and you hold him down. You raise your fist and bring it down, slamming it into his jaw. Screams, pleas fall from his lips. He's begging for you to quit. But you don't. You, at that moment, decide you are going to do that to every single person who has harmed you, who caused this.

The door behind you blows open, but you don't falter. Your fists continue to slam into the scientist’s face. Until you hear someone with a Scottish accent say your name. You freeze. You turn to find a man in the doorway, his eyes wide. You furrow your brows when he whispers your name again. You move to get up, without thinking about the man below you. You don't realize he's moving. His hand comes up and the needle is pressed into your neck. Whatever the liquid was is quickly administered into your bloodstream.

You hear your name again, louder this time, but you fall to the side, eyes too heavy to hold open. Your head slams into the now bloodied white tile and you're out.

So much for escaping. _____________________________________ You wake up to beeping. A sound you had grown accustomed to recently. You feel monitors hooked up to you, and an IV in your arm. You twitch ever so slightly, every muscle in your body contracting. And then it hits.

Anger.

Your eyes snap open. Your legs swing over the side of the bed. You rip every single monitor off of you, the IV flying across the room. The monitor begins to beep loudly and as you rush towards the door, exiting the isolated room, an alarm blares. You flinch momentarily, but do not let the sound stop you. You are looking for someone, anyone to give you a hint of what's going on. Nothing around you looks familiar. But from all the ‘brain scrambling’, that's normal. You're used to not knowing as much as you figure you used to.

A man in a bucket hat turns the corner, rushing towards what can only assume is you. You let out a low growl and begin to sprint. Your body slams into his and the both of you are sent sliding across the floor. You grab his vest and lower yourself to him, all of your weight holding him down. “Where the fuck am I?”

He's looking at you with confused eyes. He doesn't make any sudden movements. He immediately presents himself as a friend, not a threat. You squint and then see someone else coming around the corner.

“Price! Oh my-” the young man freezes. He says your name and your world is instantly rocked.

You haven't heard your name in god knows how long. The Scottish man had called out for you earlier, but before that? You really can't think of a time when someone had called you something other than some experiment number. “Who are you?” You hiss.

You feel the man under you tense up. He swallows hard and he says your name this time, slow and soft. He isn't showing any signs of wanting to throw you across the room or knock the shit out of you. You take it he isn't a threat and shift.

“You don't remember me?” The man in the ball cap asks, brows furrowed. “You don't remember us?”

Your heart jumps into your throat. You push yourself off of the man below you and you stand up. You brush yourself off and watch as he stands up. He radios someone to cut off the alarm and it's promptly stopped. You are thankful for that. You stand in the hall awkwardly and watch him and the other, younger man talk to each other with facial expressions.

“You're probably hungry,” the man in the bucket hat turns towards you, “how about we go get you some food?”

You aren't stupid, you know that also entails speaking with them about everything you just went through. Despite not wanting to talk, you nod. You are hungry and haven't had an actual meal in possibly months. The man reaches out to touch your lower back, to lead you to wherever he wants to go. You flinch away from him, everything in you tensing. You can tell it's a reflex. A habit. He's used to doing that. Your eyes scan him and you're searching your brain for everything, anything about him. But there's nothing.

“Sorry.” Is all he says. He leaves it at that. “Gaz,” he looks away from you and towards the other man. “Please go grab some food and meet us back at room 2B.”

“Yes, sir.”

The tension is palpable. You want to run. Fast. You can. You know you can. But something is keeping you tethered there. You follow a couple feet behind the man who had yet to introduce himself and keep thinking about ‘Gaz’. Your mind is reeling. You keep thinking about his name, his face, everything. You close your eyes tight and inhale sharply.

“Kyle.” It's all you say. It stops you dead in your tracks. Your eyes open and your breathing is heavy. “His name is Kyle.” Your breathing is suddenly ragged. You can't catch your breath and feel like everything is crumbling in on you. You fall to your knees and try to keep yourself from wailing. “I don't even know your name!” You whisper to keep yourself from sobbing. Your voice cracks.

“Price. John Price.” He drops in front of you. He reaches for your bicep. You don't flinch away this time. “Hey,” his voice is low, “look at me.” Your eyes cut up to him. “We're gonna help you through this. I promise.” You nod. You want to trust him. You need to. You feel like you can. You inhale slowly and Price helps you up. “We're going to go to room 2B, you're going to eat some breakfast, and we're going to ask you some questions.”

You nod and start following Price again. You make it to the room in silence and Price opens the door for you. You walk in and find four beige walls, a table, and four chairs. Nothing else. Until you look in the corner of the room and find a little camera. You lock onto it and squint.

“Why?” You point at it.

“Oh,” Price walks in and closes the door behind him, “it’s protocol. Security and all.”

“Fair enough.” You sit down at the table and look at the Price. “You gonna sit?”

Price holds onto his vest and leans against the table. “Not yet.”

You shrug. “Suit yourself.” Your stomach growls. You touch it through the thin white shirt you're wearing. “You think Gaz will be here soon?”

With that, a knock comes from the other side of the door. Two knocks, a pause, and another knock. Price opens the door and Gaz walks in. He has a tray filled with food and you are growing antsy. He sits across from you and slides the tray towards you. You try to not immediately dig in, but you can't help it. You grab a glazed donut first and begin to devour it.

“Oh,” you pause your munching, “thank you, Kyle.”

Gaz freezes. His eyes widen and he turns towards Price. It's your turn to freeze. You look up at him mid bite and blink. Gaz motions towards you and asks, “Did you tell her my name.”

“No.” Price shakes his head.

“You remembered?” Gaz seems ecstatic. “What else do you-”

“Nothing.” You snap. “I don't remember a damn thing.” You huff as you move onto the muffin on the tray. You unwrap it and begin to devour the sweet. “All I know,” You speak through bites, “is that I was locked up for God knows how long and they were experimenting on me-”

“Four months.” Gaz speaks quietly.

“Huh?” You question him. “How do you know?”

“We looked for you when you disappeared. It was four months ago when they got you. You really don’t remember anything?”

“Like I said,” You huff, “I just know they were juicing me up.” Before they can question you further, a light bulb goes off in your head. “Wait.” You squint at them, “The Scottish one. Where is he?”

They tense up. Gaz talks first, “You remember Soap?”

“Huh?” You cock your head. “Is that his name? He’s the one that found me. I assume he’s here. Or did he not…” You trail off.

“No, he’s here…” Price begins, “…We don’t want to overwhelm you.”

“Oh.” You shrug. “I guess that makes sense. How am I supposed to, uh, assimilate without being overwhelmed. I mean, why don’t we just rip that band aid off?”

“Trust me,” Price locks eyes with you, “we do not need to rip that band aid off right now.”

“Okay, okay,” You put your hands up. “Do you wanna ask your questions now?” _____________________________________ “This cannae be healthy,” Soap looks at Simon.

Simon shrugs, “Don’t care.” He’s watching the cameras closely.

“Thay aren't even in th' room yit! Ye'r peepin' an empty room!” Soap’s eyes move from the screen and back to Simon.

Simon’s eyes cut from the screen and to Soap, “Shut it. Price wants us to stay away from her for now. He didn’t say we couldn’t do this.”

As he says that, the door of the room opens. Price is visible first. And then, another figure walks in. You. Simon and Soap both tense. You look directly at the camera and point, asking why it’s there. You’re so clear. Soap’s heart jumps. Simon shifts.

“She remembers Gaz’s name.” Simon speaks through gritted teeth.

“A'm sure that's a targeted attack against ye, Ghost.” Soap is trying to find humor in this situation. He’s grasping for straws.

Simon is not enjoying it. “Shut the fuck up, Johnny.” Simon growls.

Soap focuses back on the screen and notices you aren’t even sure how long you’ve been gone. As Gaz gently tells you four months, Simon grumbles the amount of time at the same time.

“If Price doesn’t wanna overwhelm her, why the fuck is Gaz in there.” Simon is seething. “Why can’t we all be in there.”

Simon shuts his mouth as you say they had been juicing you up. He tenses. Soap does the same. They both need to know what it means. Simon feels like he’s going to combust. His eyes narrow once you mention Soap. Soap looks like he’s about to jump with joy, until he realizes you don’t actually remember him. Not past him saving you.

“Fuck this,” Simon pushes past Soap. “I'm going in there.”

“Hey! Price said-” Soap starts. He doesn't finish. “Fine-” he rushes out behind Simon. He guesses they're just going to bust into the room and Simon is going to make you remember. He isn't quite sure what Simon has planned really. But he decides he can't sit in the security room and just watch. He needs to see you.

So does Simon. _____________________________________ You reach for a fork for your eggs and lean back in your seat, plate in hand. You relax (as much as possible) and you look at Gaz and Price. You are studying them. Really digging into their features. You want to remember so badly. You have no reason to trust that they used to know you, a part of you is ready to attack in case they are lying. But most of you trusts them. How else would you remember Kyle’s name?

“Listen,” Price inhales sharply, “we want to help you, without overwhelming you. We need to know what you know.”

“Listen,” You mimic his tone, “I don’t know what you aren’t getting. I remember nothing, nada, zilch.”

“Okay,” Gaz interjects, “What’s your last memory?”

You're sent into deep thought. You place your hand on your chin and look off. “Well-” You begin, “I remember-”

The door of the room busts open. You tense, ready to pounce. Your palms hit the table and you stand up straight. The fork clangs against the ground. Two men walk into the room. The one who saved you and-

Words play in your head over and over again. ‘I think the big guy with the mask would have been a better choice.’ For a moment, your world is completely rocked. ‘I’m surprised you don’t know who I'm talking about.’ Your eyes lock with the large beast of a man. His eyes soften. Briefly. You swallow hard.

The entire room is silent. Until you open your mouth. “He wanted you…”

“What?” Soap is the first to question you.

“The scientist, the one doing the experiments on me-” You are tense again “-he didn’t want me.” Your head hurts. You place your hand on your forehead and groan. You are thinking too hard. Remembering too much.

“Hey,” Price motions for you to sit down, “it’s alright.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Ghost,” Price looks over his shoulder, “not right now.”

Ghost stiffens. He doesn’t say anything else. You sit down and inhale slowly. Your eyes move from the floor, past Price, and they hit Ghost. You feel something stir inside you. Like your emotions know more than your brain does. You want to scream. Every single man in that room seems to think so highly of you, and you don’t even remember them.

“I think I need to sleep.” Your voice is a whisper.

You don’t know the last time you got a good rest. You figure sleeping will help you. Price begins to grab for you, before freezing. You lean into him, letting him help you up. Price moves past the men and you tag along beside him.

“I’m going to show you where your room is. If you need anything, please let one of us know. But for now, we’ll leave you alone.” You are led down the hall and towards the barracks. It’s silent between the two of you, until you reach your room. “You have this room to yourself. I had some things rearranged, if it needs to be changed, and you aren’t comfortable alone, let me know.”

You nod at him. “Thank you. For everything. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“0600 sharp.” Price begins to leave.

“Wait,” You stop him. “You don’t happen to have my phone, do you?”

Price turns back to you. “No, that was not recovered. But, we can get you a new one. I’ll work on that while you rest.”

You nod. You head into your room and close the door behind you. You look around. There are two beds. You groan at the fact you can’t remember who used to be your bunk mate. You’re scraping through your brain, really searching for just an inkling of a memory. But… Nothing. Nothing at all comes to your mind.

Nothing about the four men convinced that you know them, anyway.

You lay down in bed and cover up. It’s not the most comfortable bed you’ve ever been in, but it is the most comfortable bed you’ve laid on in the last four months. Your head hits the pillows and you close your eyes. It takes longer than you’d like to go to sleep, but not as long as you expect it to take. You only hope you don’t dream of anything at all. You can’t be that lucky. _________________________________ “Price!” Simon shouts at the captain. His face contorted with anger and pain, and he is more glad than ever that they can’t see him through his balaclava. “What the fuck was that? We need to know-”

“No,” Price stops him immediately. “We do not need to stress her out further. We will figure this out eventually, on her time.” Price reassures his team. “You did not see the look in her eyes, the way she tackled me to the floor-”

“She what…?” Soap tenses.

Simon bristles instantly. He’s seething again. “What do you mean?”

“Ghost,” Gaz starts, “I know you want to know what happened. We all do.” He’s trying to get through to him. “But something is not right. The way she easily took Captain Price down- That wasn’t the Ace we know.”

“Of course!” Simon growls, “She was gone for four months, being poked and prodded-”

“Ghost,” Price interrupts, inhaling sharply, “she pinned me down and I could not get up. They did more than poke and prod at her. They-”

It clicks. “They were making soldiers… Enhanced soldiers.” Simon whispers. His face contorts again, this time with confusion, “Why did they pick her?” He remembers what you said. ‘He wanted you.’ Simon momentarily feels a pit in his stomach. “Ace couldn’t have been the only one… There’s no way they did this experiment on one person.”

“She was the only one at the underground compound.” Soap shifts. “Maybe she was the only success?”

Simon is stuck on why they picked you. It’s not like you weren’t capable. But you were never on the field fighting for your life. You were always on the sidelines, helping them get into the places, helping them get information. How had they spotted you and decided you were the best candidate? He knows that question is going to keep him up at night.

“Come on,” Price brings Simon back to reality. “We got a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

[actiniumwrites]

Not sure if you’re taking request still but if you are was wondering if you could right abt reader hiding their fever from Tighnari or Diluc (or both)

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

synopsis: in which you try to hide your sickness from them, just trying to stay out of their way, except it doesn’t quite go to plan

characters: heizou, thoma, tighnari, dottore, and childe x gn!reader (separately)

warnings: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, descriptions of being sick, a tiny bit of swearing, established relationships

notes: thanks for the request! i tried pretty hard to come up with something for diluc but i wasn’t able to so i just did tighnari. i also added in some other characters, hope that’s okay :) also reminder that this is a relatively old request and i’m not actively taking requests!

heizou:

you hadn’t intended to ever hide your sickness from him, honestly

you woke up with the incoming feeling of what you assumed was a fever. your temperature was high and you felt fatigued

still, when your red haired boyfriend came prancing into your shared bedroom excitedly shaking your shoulders begging you to join him on his day off, you felt as though you couldn’t refuse

he was just so happy and you didn’t want to ruin that, not when he had been so stressed recently

walking around ritou with him seemed to be alright

the weather wasn’t bad and he even took you to a few shops for some lunch and souvenirs

but as the time passed, your head felt dizzier and your eyes stung a bit. the red of the maple trees was blending with the blue of the sky and the shops around began to spin

“are you okay?” he had asked worriedly, noticing your eyes began to droop and the overall fatigue you seemed to be experiencing

he put a hand to your forehead and noticed the burning sensation and light sweat building quickly

“shit, you’re sick? why didn’t you say anything?” he asked as he began to rush you home. his arms were around you, steadying you against him

“you were so excited,” you mumble against his shoulder, “i didn’t wanna ruin that, but it looks like i did anyway.”

the detective’s heart ached as the words left your mouth, he couldn’t believe you would say something like that, “please don’t say that again. your health matters way more than my fun, don’t ever forget that.”

when you got home, you fell asleep quickly, all snuggled up in the warm covers

heizou dimmed the lights and brought some medicine and water to place on the table next to you for when you woke up

as he got in the bed with you, he made sure to pull the blankets snuggly over you and bring you closer to his chest and placing a small kiss to your forehead

“i love you,” he whispered before shutting his eyes and holding you close.

thoma:

thoma hadn’t asked you to help him with chores, but here you were…helping him with chores

although the weather was beautiful, it was spring and in influx of new leaves and all sorts of pollen was in the air and on the floors of the estate

you were kind enough to help your boyfriend out with all of the spring cleaning to prevent him from getting stressed

unfortunately, it only lead to you getting stressed and consequently sick

you had already felt the oncomings of sickness for the past week

from various headaches, lack of sleep, the inability to eat, all the way to a runny nose and sore throat — you knew it was only going to worsen, but still clung to the hope it was just spring allergies

still, you chose to help him anyway while also leaving out the details of your sickness

about two hours had passed since your last break before fatigue hit you hard. the rake you had been using to gather fallen flowers was now leaned against the wall

your arm was resting against the railing to balance yourself as you sat on the small set of stairs under the shade

“thoma,” you called out to him through shut eyes and rushed breaths, “i’m so sorry, i- i don’t think i can help you anymore.”

he ran to you almost instantly, dropping everything in his hands to check if you were okay

when he saw you weren’t, he rushed you inside to your guys’ shared room

“oh archons, i’m so sorry i didn’t notice! you really didn’t have to help me if you weren’t feeling good,” he apologized, urgently trying to help you

it was like that for hours after

he was constantly apologizing for not noticing and you could tell he truly felt bad

he even brought you fresh homemade soup and anything else you so desired. you name it, he got it

at the end of the day, he fell asleep alongside you, swearing to stay by you until you felt better.

he didn’t even care if he got sick. if it was for you, it was worth it

tighnari:

tighnari had been frustrated all week

you had noticed that almost instantaneously and even if you hadn’t, all of his grumbling, dark eye bags (which he never seemed to have), and the distance he was placing between you would have made it blatantly obvious

he didn’t seem himself as of late and that made you feel a bit down yourself

eventually it got to the point where his mood was dampening everyone else’s and you had fallen ill

the forest watcher was so stressed that he hadn’t even noticed

you had tried to tell him when he requested you help him with collecting samples of withered areas, but he was quick to shut you down before hearing you out, requesting that you, “please just help me without complaining.”

under normal circumstances, you would have told him off and not allowed him to dictate over you like that, but you weren’t feeling well at all and didn’t have the energy to argue

besides, it would only be an hour and a half right? you figured you could get through that

you should’ve known what you were getting into. your boyfriend always took longer than expected, though you hadn’t expected an hour and a half to turn into two, which then turned into three

when you realized the time, you began to ask to go home and just come back tomorrow. it was getting dark and was definitely a reasonable request of him

but tighnari wasn’t in the mood and he brushed you off, choosing not to answer your question

moments later, his equipment fell and broke — almost as if karma had struck him

he was never one to lose his cool so easily, but here he was yelling at nothing and kicking his bag over

when you had asked him to calm down, he refused and snapped at you too.

he didn’t mean it — you knew that, but you couldn’t help but feel like he did. like he meant to snap at you and that all his anger was somehow your fault

mixed with the fatigue and shivers from your now fully developed fever, your eyes drooped and you fell forward into unconsciousness

hours had passed before you awoke. but when you did, you found tighnari right by your side handing you a cup of water and some of his homemade medicine

“i’m so sorry,” he started quickly, stumbling over his words as he tried to apologize, “i was so selfish forcing you to go with me. i mean, what kind of boyfriend doesn’t even notice when their partner is sick?”

you cough before responding, “you were a little harsh, but it’s okay now. you were just stressed and no one was around to help you out when you needed it, so don’t feel too bad okay?”

he nodded sadly and fell against your lap, still guilt-stricken by his lack of awareness and clouded mind from just a mere few hours ago

he would take the next week off he decided. taking care of you was more important and he had a lot of making up to do

dottore:

you weren’t surprised the doctor had failed to recognize the fact that you were sick

while he was a doctor, he wasn’t one that cared for his patients or anyone besides himself

when he had called you to his lab early one morning to aid him in some lab work, you knew there was no chance of it ending well

you loved him, you really did, but your boyfriend was pushy. and when his mind was set on something, it became the most important thing to him

today he had asked for your assistance in his lab for whatever new experiment he had conjured up this time

initially, you refused as you weren’t feeling well and didn’t have the energy

but, as aforementioned, dottore is a stubborn man and wouldn’t take no for an answer

“dottore, i’m not feeling we—“ you tried to argue with him

“ah ah, i do not care what excuse you have this time. i need your help and only your help.”

he didn’t even hear you out

so you sucked it up and helped him

about an hour had passed when you began feeling strained

back and forth of reaching for different materials and finding information for him became too much

“can we just take a break?” you breathed out heavily, immune system weak from your sickness

“no, what did i tell you? it is imperative that we do not stop until this is finished,” he stops for a moment, tone softening as he turns to you, “i’ll take you out to that place you’ve been wanting to try later, i promise. just, help me with this and we can go.”

you smile at the offer, happy he was finally making the time to go out with you, but it wasn’t enough

as soon as he asked for the next object, your dizziness kicked in as your neck craned to see it up on the high shelves of his lab

and the next thing dottore heard was a thud with you on the ground

“dottore… i can’t— i’m so sorry,” tears pool at your eyes as your fever worsens

he helps you up with a stern look, his arms wrapped around yours as he pulls you closer to inspect your face, “why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“are you serious? i did tell you! you didn’t listen to me,” you exclaim

dottore softens in the way he only does around you, quietly offering you an apology and his coat to warm up your shivering body “i apologize, my love. i should not have been so neglectful of my own partner.”

he’s careful as he carries you to your shared bed and wraps you up:

“how about that restaurant? i’ll pick up whatever you want.”

childe:

sometimes childe can be a literal child. you knew that when the two of you began dating. sometimes you minded, other times you didn’t

he had a way of nagging when he wanted things and whining when he didn’t get them

you hadn’t gotten out of bed all morning and childe was getting impatient, hoping you would spar with him today for fun

you didn’t bother to tell him you were sick, thinking that he’d eventually realize later in the day

but childe was having one of those days and didn’t have a care in the world for anyone but himself

he came in to your shared room and collapsed on you, completely missing the pained grunt you let out as complaints flew left and right out of his mouth

things like: “spar with me, please!” and “c’mon we haven’t challenged each other in so long!” among many other complaints

he was right, it had been along time. and while you didn’t exactly want to spar with him today, you figured if you just indulged him for one round he would let it go

so you got up and got your equipment desperately trying to ignore the pounding of your headache

childe was beaming with excitement as he kissed your cheek and ran out to grab his equipment

when you got outside to join him, the chilly wind of snezhnaya bit at your skin and made your nose run faster than it had been before

childe quickly went in for a few hits, you dodged them and countered him quickly

it seemed to increase his determination as he charged at you effectively hitting you in the side

you didn’t let it affect you too much, aside from a bit of coughing which your boyfriend had chalked up to being from the impact of the hit

you had only lasted ten minutes longer before he landed one last hit, knocking you to the ground

“oh, c’mon! that one wasn’t even that bad. don’t tell me you can’t handle a hit that weak!” he laughed, just teasing you

you bent over on your hands and knees, violently coughing as tears poured out from your eyes

“hey hey hey, what’s wrong?” childe panicked as he dropped to his knees next to you with one hand placed on your back to support you

his hand reached your forehead, feeling a burning sensation, “woah, you’re burning up! why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“you were—“ you were cut off by your coughs, “so excited to spar. i figured if i just indulged you for a round or two i’d be fine…”

“hey, you didn’t have to do that,” he said softly, “i would’ve understood if you just told me. i care more about you than fighting, you know that.”

childe picked you up quickly and brought you back inside your shared home and to your bed, wrapping you up cozily under the covers before joining you

“childe, no— you’ll get sick,” you tried to push him away.

he smiled and firmly placed a kiss on your lips,“oh c’mon, when have i ever cared about that?”

[luvyeni]

Yay okay can I please request an Anton fic Where he’s a virgin and he tells reader that he wants her to take his virginity but he’s really shy so y/n suggests they start off slow so she starts making out with him and dry humping him but then he tells her he wants to cum in her hand so she jerks him off that way and he does it all over her and it gets everywhere and it’s just messy and-

Tell me you understand my vison user luvyeni on Tumblr 🤭🤭?? Anyways that’s my request 😜

❛GOOD BOY❜ ( l. anton )

p. nerd!anton x popular!reader wc. 1.4k

warnings? dry humping, handjob, cumming w/o penetration

— 𖦹 ( helping out your shy boyfriend ) !

anton often truly wondered what he had done in his past life for him to been able to get a girlfriend as wonderful as you. you were incredibly smart, probably even smart as him always on top of your classes. not only were you smart, but you were also one of the popular girls, but you weren’t like the stereotypical mean bully mean girl; you were kind to everyone, never saying anything bad about everyone, even a loner nerd like him.

you guys met actually because you came to his rescue – one of the football players, who also happened to be your boyfriend at the time and his other friends would often come and corner the boy, stealing his money, throwing his things to the floor. you saw what happened, quickly coming to his defense, breaking up with the boy in front of everyone, quick guiding the boy away from danger, holding his books.

soon a cute little friendship formed, you’d leave all your friends and people who’d crowded around you, just to walk over to his table to sit with him and eat your lunch.

anyone would fall for a girl like you, anton included – and now that you were showing him all this affection, he’d fallen head over heels for you. but crazy enough, you beat him to it, you were actually the one who asked him on a date – you were even the one to ask him to be your boyfriend, which he of course said yes.

if anton could change one thing about himself, it would be how shy he would get around you, he wished he could voice what he wanted to you whenever he wanted – especially when it came to sex. he was a virgin obviously, the only thing he’d done was a few make out sessions, and that was with you.

he knew you were much more experienced than he was, and he could never satisfy you, but what would he be if he didn’t try. but even now, you were laying on his bed, your skirt riding up exposing your thighs, his pants growing tight, he still was too shy to speak up.

“anton?” you snapped your fingers in his face. “love, what’s wrong?” you said now sitting on your knees in front of him. “n-nothing, i’m fine.” his soft voice making you smile. “you don’t seem fine, what’s going on in that head of yours?” you placed your hand on his thigh, right below his growing cock, his breath hitched, he prayed you didn’t hear him. “i-i’m fine.”

you sighed, bringing your other hand to his forehead. “are you sick? do you need medicine?” you questioned, his face was now beat red, your hand was centimeters away from his bulge. “you’re burning up.”

you didn’t know what you were doing, you genuinely were concerned about him, but he didn’t know how much longer he could take it before his voice betrayed him. “anton just tell me, i won’t judge you love.” your hand came from his forehead to his cheek, caressing it.

he gulped, now was the time to man up. “i -um- iwantyoutotakemyvirginity.” he spoke so fast, his voice was still hushed, but you heard everything he said. “i know it’s embarrassing, but– no it’s not baby.” you reassured him. “i’ve told you, you will never embarrass me.” you kissed his lips, pulling away with a smile.

“it’s okay to be a virgin anton, let’s just take it slow, okay?” he nodded, he couldn’t look you in the eyes. “hey.” you called, climbing into his lap – this wasn’t new, but it still always shocked him. “you’re already hard.” you cocked your head to the side. “i-i’m sorry, i couldn’t hmph.” you shut him up with another kiss.

“stop apologizing for stuff that’s normal, look let’s just take it slow, okay?” you said softly ran your hands through his hair. “let’s start with what we know.” he nodded, you grabbed the sides of his face, kissing him, taking the lead like you always did, slipping your tongue into his mouth.

he kept his hands at his side, gripping the sheets in attempts to calm himself down, but with the way you were sitting directly on his cock, it was getting hard to control himself. you pulled away, grabbing his hands, placing them high on your thighs, under your skirt. “it’s okay, you can touch me.”

he let out a whimper, his cock was now painfully hard, he felt like he was gonna cum just from this – just from you sitting on him while kissing. you smiled against his lips, pulling away, he chased your lips, you giggled, wiping the spit from his lips. “so cute.”

“i-i…” he stopped, unable to speak. “what is it baby, tell me what you want.” you said. “c-can you move, it hurts.” whimpered out again. “of course, i can, such a good boy for speaking up.” you began to move your hips, he moaned – the feeling of the material from his underwear rubbing against his cock had him feeling dizzy.

not only that, but you were also moaning, your shirt unbuttoned revealing your bra, your boobs peaking from from the top – thinking about what he wanted to do to them had him about to cum, but he didn’t want to cum like this, he wanted more. “m-more.”

you stopped moving, your hands placed on his shoulders to keep yourself up. “you want more, pretty boy.” he whimpered at the name, nodding. “pl-please.” he said looking up at you with his wide doe eyes. “okay, i’ll give you more.”

you climbed off his lap, he looked at you confused. “i told you, we’re taking it slow.” you sat on the side of him, unbuckling his pants. “next time you’ll be able to fuck me, let’s not overwhelm you too much.” he nodded, you smiled. “good boy, lift your hips up for me.” you pulled his pants down enough to pull his cock from its confinements, he was average sized, a little bit on the thinner side, but you believed it would be enough to satisfy you once he learned to use it right. “such a pretty cock.” you praised; his ears turned red. “d-don’t say that.” you chuckled.

“but it is.” you ran your finger down the base of his length, he hissed, his cock twitching below your fingernail. “gonna jerk your pretty cock off, okay?” truth be told, you would love to fuck him, he looked so cute, and you were extremely horny, but you knew he wasn’t gonna last long, and you didn’t want him to feel self-conscious about cumming before you did. “w-what about you?” you wrapped your hand around his cock. “fu-fuck.” he cursed, surprising you both, he hardly used those words, unless he was really frustrated. “don’t worry about me love.” you began to stroke his cock slowly. “this is about you.”

his head was thrown back against the headboard, eyes sealed as you began to move your hand faster. “you’re doing so well for me, can you look at me please.” you cooed, he forced his eyes opened, making eye contact with your soft ones. “you feeling good?” you questioned, he moaned nodding. “i-it f-feels good, really g-good.”

“good that all that matters, you gonna cum?” he nodded, he could feel it, he wanted to last longer, but you were squeezing his base, and praising him – he could no longer hold it. “gonna cum.” you stroke him faster, his legs began to twitch, he could feel the cum filling up in his balls, ready to be released.

“i-i’m cu-cu…” he was speechless, he could barely get the words out before it was too late, white fluid came shoot out from his tip, getting everywhere, he came so much. it was all over your hands, some landing on your uncovered chest, on his shirt, even a little bit landed on your chin. “i-i’m sorry, i did–.” you kissed him. “so cute, you came so much.” you praised. “good boy.”

you cleaned yourself up, helping the boy clean himself up. “you feeling okay?” he shyly nodded. “th-thank you for that.” he spoke. “i’m sorry i couldn’t do the same for you.” he frowned, you grabbed his hand in reinsurance. “it’s fine anton, really we have all the time in the world to have sex okay?” you kissed his cheek. “o-okay.”

“good boy”

©️LUVYENI

[thedensworld]

Revelation | C.Sc

Pairing: Seungcheol x Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, office romance

Summary: What started as an office romance escalated quickly when there are news about Choi Seungcheol, your boyfriend, is suddenly the heirs of the company where you both work.

You grumbled as you opened your eyes, feeling the chill on the other side of the bed where Seungcheol had been sleeping. Unconsciously, your lips formed a pout, not quite pleased with Seungcheol's disciplined approach to work, which often meant leaving you alone in the mornings. But you knew he was just steps away, getting ready in the bathroom. Despite the fever weighing you down, you summoned the willpower to rise and prepare for the day. However, your feverish body rebelled, refusing to cooperate as you attempted to prop yourself up. It was the same cold that had brought Seungcheol to your side last night, yet now it seemed to mock your efforts to start the day.

"Getting better, love?" Seungcheol's voice drifted from the bathroom as he emerged, shirtless, a towel loosely draped around his lower body. You managed a nod in response, feeling a mix of gratitude and guilt for his concern.

As he drew closer, his hand instinctively reached out to touch your forehead. His expression soured at the lingering heat. "You're still burning," he remarked with a furrowed brow.

"Let's call you in sick for today."

You shifted your body fully to watch him, a smile spreading across your face as you admired his effortless grace in dressing. "Maybe it's because my boyfriend is so hot that I'm burning," you mumbled playfully, the words audible to Seungcheol as he adjusted his pants.

Seungcheol chuckled, turning to you with a raised eyebrow. "Really? Am I that hot?" he asked, a hint of playful vanity in his tone as he pulled back the duvet covering your body, his ego clearly enjoying the compliment.

"Really hot, to the point where I can't help but work to protect you from other women," you teased, preparing to rise from the bed. But Seungcheol was quicker, gently pushing you back under the covers with a soft yet firm touch, his concern evident in the way he hovered over you.

"I'll order you some food for breakfast. Let's have you rest for today, love," Seungcheol suggested, his voice soft with concern as he hovered near the bed.

You raised your brow, a flicker of worry crossing your features. "Didn't you say you had to pay for rent? Don't use that money for me," you reminded him, your concern for his finances clear in your tone.

Seungcheol met your gaze with a warm smile, brushing off your concern. "Yes, but it's okay," he reassured you, his eyes reflecting his affection for you.

Shaking your head slightly, you insisted, "You know I can pay for myself, right?"

Seungcheol nodded in understanding, his expression gentle. "You've told me that thousands of times already," he reminded you with a soft chuckle.

"Baby, if you need anything, you have me, alright?" you affirmed, reaching out to him with reassurance. He responded by pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his actions speaking volumes as he nodded in agreement.

Seungcheol headed off to work after ensuring you had a healthy breakfast on the way. He reassured you that he'd already taken care of the payment, urging you to simply enjoy the meal and remember to take your medicine afterward. As you sat at the dining table, a pang of guilt settled in your stomach. You couldn't shake the knowledge that Seungcheol was facing financial challenges of his own, yet he never hesitated to take care of you. The thought weighed heavily on your mind as you contemplated his selflessness, a mix of gratitude and concern swirling within you.

Reflecting on the journey you and Seungcheol had taken together, you couldn't help but marvel at his unwavering determination and work ethic. You both started as interns at the company, navigating the challenges of entry-level positions while trying to make ends meet. But while you struggled to find your footing, Seungcheol dove headfirst into every task, his relentless drive and dedication setting him apart.

You watched with admiration as he worked tirelessly, often taking on extra shifts and projects to support himself financially. Despite the long hours and occasional setbacks, his perseverance never wavered. And it was this unwavering commitment to his goals that slowly but surely began to capture your heart.

As you got to know him better, you realized that behind his stoic exterior was a heart of gold. Beneath the surface of his determined facade, Seungcheol was kind, compassionate, and fiercely loyal to those he cared about. It was these qualities, coupled with his unyielding work ethic, that drew you to him like a magnet.

And now, as you sat at the dining table, contemplating the sacrifices he made for you without a second thought, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with love and admiration for the man who had stolen your heart. Despite the challenges you both faced, Seungcheol's unwavering support and dedication had never faltered, and for that, you were endlessly grateful.

"I must have gone to war in my previous life, right?" you mused aloud, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips as you opened the meal and began to savor it.

***

As you stepped into the elevator, the buzz of morning gossip greeted you, swirling around the confined space like a whirlwind of speculation and excitement. Your colleagues chattered animatedly, their voices rising and falling as they eagerly exchanged the latest news. You stood at the back, content to listen rather than participate, silently absorbing the juicy tidbits being shared.

One particular piece of gossip caught your attention, causing you to perk up with interest. The grandson of the President Company was set to become their director. The news rippled through the elevator, eliciting a mixture of surprise and curiosity from your coworkers.

You had never been particularly interested in the inner workings of the company's hierarchy or its familial ties, but you couldn't deny the significance of this development. The President Company, a prominent entity within the Choi Corps conglomerate, held considerable influence over the various companies under its umbrella, including the advertising agency where you worked.

The mention of Mrs. Park potentially being replaced by this new director sent a ripple of anticipation through the elevator. Mrs. Park, the current director of Choi Ads, was notorious for her strict demeanor and cutthroat management style. The prospect of her departure was met with a mix of relief and excitement, evident in the hushed whispers and knowing glances exchanged between your coworkers.

Should everyone throw a party then?

"You can't believe what happened yesterday!" Soonyoung exclaimed as he approached your table, his excitement palpable.

"I heard it in the elevator," you replied calmly, shooting him a look that silently urged him to lower his voice.

Soonyoung cleared his throat and glanced around before continuing, his voice now subdued. "Everyone was taken aback but relieved at the same time that Mrs. Park and Mr. Yang won't be here anymore."

Your brow furrowed at the unexpected news. Mrs. Park and Mr. Yang, both gone? It seemed the changes within the company ran deeper than you initially realized.

"Mr. Yang too?" you asked, seeking confirmation from Soonyoung, who nodded in response.

"Everyone is finally getting into their proper positions! Mrs. Kim definitely deserves the general manager position. And you, Ms. Assistant Manager, should be a team manager," Soonyoung continued, his enthusiasm undiminished as he recounted the events of the previous day.

Despite Soonyoung's animated explanation, your mind struggled to process the flurry of changes that had occurred in just one day. Replacements, promotions, announcements—what had you missed during your brief absence?

"I'm glad that I treated Seungcheol with all my heart, or should I start calling him Mr. Choi?" Soonyoung mused aloud.

You threw a glance to him, "what do you mean? Seungcheol? Mr. Choi? I'm not following, Soonyoung," you admitted, furrowing your brow in confusion.

Soonyoung's eyes widened in disbelief. "Girl! Assistant Manager Choi is the President's grandson. He was here to announce it. The formal announcement will be held next week, and I'm in charge of the event."

Your jaw dropped in shock, and you instinctively reached out to grasp Soonyoung's arm for support. "What?!" you exclaimed, barely able to contain your surprise. "You're kidding, right?" Your eyes widened, and your breath caught in your throat.

Soonyoung rolled his eyes, a wry smile playing at his lips. "Oh, babe, I wish. But I'm happy for him. I thought he was just some hardworking dude at work. Turns out he's the heir to this company," he explained, his tone a mix of astonishment and admiration.

As Soonyoung's words sank in, your mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions. How could you have been dating Seungcheol for four years without knowing such a significant detail about his family background? The realization left you feeling stunned and incredulous, as if a veil had been lifted to reveal an entirely different side to the man you thought you knew so well.

Images of Seungcheol flashed through your mind—his warm smile, his unwavering support, his tireless dedication to his work. You had always admired his resilience and determination, but now, knowing that he was the grandson of the company president, it added a new layer of complexity to your relationship.

Questions flooded your mind, each one more pressing than the last. Why hadn't Seungcheol ever mentioned his family's connection to the company before? Did he deliberately keep it a secret, or was it simply an oversight on his part? And most importantly, what did this newfound revelation mean for your future together?

As you grappled with the shock of this unexpected discovery, a sense of uncertainty crept in, mingling with the lingering warmth of affection you felt for Seungcheol. Despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within you, one thing was certain—you needed to have a conversation with him, to clear the air and uncover the truth behind his hidden identity as the grandson of the company president.

As you made your way through the office, your mind still reeling from the bombshell revelation about Seungcheol's true identity, you were taken aback when you almost collided with a familiar figure—Seungcheol himself. The shock of seeing him, coupled with the knowledge of his impending promotion to director, left you momentarily speechless.

The surprise etched on your face didn't go unnoticed by Seungcheol, who seemed poised to offer an explanation. But before he could utter a word, he was intercepted by a member of the company's secretarial staff, beckoning him away with an urgent summons.

For a moment, you stood frozen in place, torn between the impulse to confront Seungcheol and demand answers, and the realization that now was not the time nor the place for such a conversation. With a heavy heart, you watched silently as he walked away, the weight of the unspoken truth hanging heavily in the air between you.

As he disappeared from view, a whirlwind of emotions swept over you—confusion, disbelief, and a gnawing sense of betrayal mingling with the remnants of affection and longing. You couldn't shake the feeling that everything had changed in an instant, and yet, in many ways, nothing had changed at all. With a sigh, you pocketed your phone, the call to Seungcheol forgotten for now as you grappled with the complexities of your newfound reality.

***

As interns at the company, you and Seungcheol had embarked on your professional journey together. You were the only one accepted after a rigorous testing and trial period, while Seungcheol's presence in the internship program had come as a surprise to you. However, at the time, you were too focused on the competitive nature of the training system, which dictated that only one intern would be chosen every six months. It hadn't occurred to you to question Seungcheol's sudden appearance.

Seungcheol's reputation as a hardworking man preceded him, and it was evident in the way he threw himself into every task with determination and grit. While you didn't doubt your own work ethic, you couldn't help but acknowledge that you often relied on your natural talent to excel. Gifted in design, management, administration—there seemed to be no limit to your abilities, while Seungcheol had to work tirelessly to match your level of competence.

Despite your differences, the company saw fit to keep both of you on board. You found yourself assigned to the design team, while Seungcheol carved out a niche for himself in PR. Despite being the youngest members of your respective teams, you and Seungcheol soon found yourselves spending nearly every night in the office together, preparing for presentations, brainstorming ideas, and tackling whatever tasks the higher-ups threw your way.

In that year of late nights and shared struggles, you and Seungcheol had seen each other at your worst—unbathed, hair unkempt, with ketchup stains from French fries or coffee splattered across your shirts. But through it all, you found solace in the fact that you only had each other in this relentless corporate world.

A significant project had brought you together once more—a short film project to advertise a makeup product. As the clock struck 10 p.m. and the office remained deserted save for the two of you, Seungcheol was deeply engrossed in mind mapping ideas for the presentation in two days, while you found yourself daydreaming about your warm bed.

Seungcheol's voice cut through the quiet of the office as he watched you begin to tidy up your table. "You're going home?" he asked, disbelief coloring his tone.

You nodded, exhaustion creeping into your voice. "I need my seven hours of sleep to come up with a better idea," you explained, already feeling the pull of fatigue tugging at your eyelids.

But Seungcheol wasn't ready to give up just yet. "You haven't contributed anything, Y/n. Let's work a little longer until we find the perfect premise," he pleaded, his determination evident in the furrow of his brow.

A pang of guilt gnawed at you as you drew closer to him, trying to catch a glimpse of the ideas he had jotted down on his iPad. With a scoff, you remarked, "Is that all you can come up with?"

Seungcheol's glare pierced through you, his frustration palpable. "So you have a better idea? Go ahead, miss," he retorted, handing you the iPad with a challenge in his eyes.

You settled yourself into Seungcheol's armchair, dangerously close to him, as you pulled the iPad towards you, eager to share your ideas. As you wrote down keywords like "Lips Product," "Lips stain", "Backstreet," "Office romance," and "steamy," you glanced up at Seungcheol, seeking his reaction.

"What do you think about office romance?" you asked, your voice laced with curiosity.

Seungcheol slowly shrugged, his gaze meeting yours. "Never experienced it before," he admitted, his tone neutral.

You sighed softly, mumbling to yourself, "Me either."

"Many people find office romance exciting and adrenaline-fueled. But why?" you continued, your words growing more animated as you delved into your idea. "Because they're often secret relationships, hidden behind work contracts and professional facades."

Seungcheol listened intently as you explained, his expression thoughtful. "And what's the closest thing a couple can do in the office?" you posed the question, your eyes alight with excitement. "Kiss. Yes. A kiss leaves a stain—a lingering mark of passion and desire."

As you continued to speak, Seungcheol found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on your words. His gaze lingered on your lips, drawn irresistibly to their sensual movements as they formed each syllable. The proximity between you felt electrifying, your perfume mingling with the scent of his cologne, creating a heady atmosphere of intimacy.

Despite his best efforts to focus on the conversation, Seungcheol's heart raced faster than usual, his senses overwhelmed by the closeness between you. He tried to shake off the sensation, willing himself to concentrate on your words, but the allure of your presence proved too strong to resist.

Suddenly, you stopped speaking, and Seungcheol realized with a start that your faces were only inches apart. Your whispered question sent a shiver down his spine, and he met your gaze with a mixture of surprise and anticipation.

"Seungcheol..." you breathed, the sound barely audible in the quiet of the office.

His brows raised in response, but his eyes remained locked on yours, unable to tear himself away from the magnetic pull of your gaze. "Hm?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Do you still want me to be here?" you asked softly, your words hanging in the air between you.

Seungcheol bit his lip nervously, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips and back again. "Do you want to be with me here?" he countered, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"I guess," you replied, your own voice barely audible as you closed the gap between you and Seungcheol, surrendering to the undeniable chemistry that crackled between you.

***

Seungcheol cautiously slipped into your studio apartment, his heart racing as he finally had the chance to face you after the whirlwind of work and avoidance. He knew he had to explain everything, but deadlines and commitments seemed to conspire against him. Now, on the eve of the announcement event, he couldn't delay any longer.

You weren't home when he arrived, so he took the opportunity to prepare a simple dinner, hoping to ease the tension that hung heavy in the air. As you walked in, the aroma of food greeted you, mingling with the unexpected presence of Seungcheol.

"Go change, I'll wait for you here," he uttered awkwardly, his hands fidgeting as he busied himself setting the table.

Minutes crawled by like reluctant snails as Seungcheol anxiously waited for your return. When you finally emerged, he straightened up, trying to compose himself as he watched you take your seat and begin to eat.

"Thanks for the meal," you said, your tone tinged with a hint of detachment that didn't escape his notice.

Seungcheol felt a pang of guilt gnaw at him as he realized the extent of the hurt he had caused you. He longed to reach out, to bridge the growing chasm between you, but the weight of his own mistakes anchored him to his seat. All he could do was watch, silently hoping for a chance at redemption.

"I can't do this," you uttered, setting down your utensils with a heavy clink, your hands reaching up to rub at your face in frustration.

Seungcheol's heart plummeted at your words, a cold dread creeping over him. Was this it? Were you about to end things between you? The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

"Can you— please don't show your face when I'm around," you pleaded, your head bowed, unable to meet his gaze.

Seungcheol felt like he'd been punched in the gut, the weight of your request crushing him with guilt and regret. He had hoped for a chance to explain, to make things right between you, but now it seemed like an impossible feat.

He sighed heavily, the weight of his mistakes bearing down on him like a leaden cloak. He knew he had let you down, had failed to prioritize your feelings over his own ambitions. The truth he had meant to share with you, about the sudden change in his circumstances and the responsibilities thrust upon him, now seemed like a feeble excuse in the face of your pain.

As he looked at you, your expression filled with hurt and disappointment, Seungcheol realized the depth of his folly. He had let his own ambitions blind him to the needs of the person he cared about most, and now he was paying the price. All he could do was nod silently, a silent acknowledgment of the chasm that now separated them, knowing that he had brought this upon himself.

"Are you—" Seungcheol began, his voice tentative, his heart pounding in his chest as he braced himself for your response. Was this the moment when everything would unravel between you?

Before he could finish his question, you let out a piercing scream, the suddenness of it jolting him to his core. Confusion etched across his features as he watched you dramatically cover your ears and sink to the floor.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his concern evident in his voice as he reached out to you, but you shook your head vehemently, your actions and words shrouded in incomprehensibility.

"No, don't talk to me!" you exclaimed, your voice muffled as you buried your face in your arms, your distress palpable.

Seungcheol knelt down in front of you, his brow furrowed with worry as he tried to make sense of your outburst. You muttered something indistinctly, your words lost in the folds of your arms. He leaned in closer, urging you to speak louder, desperate to understand.

"Don't talk to me, it's so embarrassing! I'm embarrassed!" you finally managed to articulate, your cheeks flushed crimson with embarrassment.

Seungcheol's shock morphed into a mixture of surprise and amusement as he processed your words. He couldn't believe you were feeling embarrassed when, in reality, he was the one who should be hanging his head in shame.

"I feel so stupid right now. How could you—" you started, your voice trailing off as you hid your face once again, leaving Seungcheol hanging on your unfinished sentence.

A soft chuckle escaped Seungcheol's lips as he watched your adorable display of shyness. He couldn't help but find your reaction endearing, a welcome relief from the tension that had gripped the room moments ago.

"Hey, it's okay. What do you want to say, love?" he reassured you, pulling you gently into his embrace, his heart swelling with affection at the sight of your pout.

You met his gaze with a mixture of bashfulness and sincerity, your words tumbling out in a rush. "I'm feeling stupid right now because I've been treating you like shit when you technically own the company where I work!"

Seungcheol's laughter bubbled up from deep within him, the absurdity of the situation washing away the remnants of tension between you. He cupped your face in his hands, his eyes twinkling with fondness as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead.

"You have nothing to feel stupid about, darling," he whispered, his voice warm with reassurance.

"And no, you're not. You never treat me like shit," he insisted, his smile softening the edges of his words.

But you shook your head, your embarrassment still lingering like a stubborn shadow. "You don't understand! I've been insisting on paying the bills every time we go on dates. I even casually offered to pay your rent. Oh my god!"

Seungcheol's laughter grew louder at the revelation, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "That's what you were worried about?" he exclaimed incredulously.

You let out a heavy sigh, the weight of your embarrassment pressing down on you like a leaden blanket. "This whole week, I've been thinking about how many times I've hurt you by paying for your groceries and dinner. Your masculinity isn't hurt, right?"

Seungcheol's hands were gentle as they cupped your cheeks, his touch a comforting reassurance amidst your swirling emotions. "Thanks for everything, my love. Now your boyfriend will be the owner of the company you're working for. Let him treat you like a princess," he said tenderly, his voice laced with sincerity and affection.

You melted into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his love enveloping you like a protective cocoon. "I love the sound of it," you whispered, your heart swelling with gratitude for his understanding and support.

Seungcheol held you close, his arms wrapped securely around you as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "Let's finish your dinner, and I'll get you your favorite dessert from that expensive bakery you showed me last time," he suggested, his eyes sparkling with excitement at the thought of spoiling you.

You smiled up at him, feeling a rush of love and contentment wash over you. With Seungcheol by your side, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would always have each other to lean on. And in that moment, surrounded by his love, everything felt right in the world.

[pengujoon]

FLUSHED WITH FEVER

cont. geto suguru x reader, fluff. suguru is really clingy when he’s sick, he’s so hot he’s burning up, living together!au, intentional lowercase, really wholesome

a/n. suguru brainrot is really hitting strong huh

you woke up to a warm, sunny morning, and for a moment, everything felt perfect. but as you stirred in bed, you felt a familiar presence around you, but something was off.

suguru was nestled close to you, and his skin felt like it was on fire, radiating an intense heat. his cheeks were flushed with fever, and he clung to you as if your touch could cool the burning sensation that consumed him.

“suguru,” you said softly, reaching out to touch his forehead. it was burning up, and he groaned softly in response. his arms were wrapped around you, holding you close, but he seemed almost desperate for relief.

you gently shifted so that you were facing him, cradling his flushed face in your hands. “suguru, you’re burning up,” you murmured, worry filling your voice.

he nuzzled against your hand, seeking comfort. “i know,” he replied, his voice shaky. “i couldn’t sleep, and i needed to be close to you.”

you couldn’t help but feel your heartache for him. “i’m here, suguru. let’s get you cooled down.”

carefully, you disentangled yourself from his grip, leaving the bed to retrieve a damp, cool washcloth. you placed it on his forehead, and he sighed in relief. you could see the agony in his eyes, but he held onto you as if your presence alone could chase away the fever.

you climbed back into bed beside him, and he immediately snuggled against your side, his body seeking the comfort of your touch. you ran your fingers through his hair, trying to bring him some relief from the heat.

“let’s get you some porridge. it’ll help you feel better.”

with a gentle smile, you disentangled yourself from his grip, promising to return. you went to the kitchen to prepare a bowl of his favourite porridge, hoping it would help ease his fever. the scent of the simmering porridge filled the kitchen, comforting and inviting.

after a short while, you returned to his room with the warm bowl of porridge in hand. you found him still curled up under the blankets, looking miserable, but the moment he saw you, his eyes lit up at the sight.

“i’ve made some of your favorite porridge,” you said, holding it out to him. “it’s ready whenever you want.”

suguru’s gratitude shone in his feverish eyes as he accepted the bowl. “you’re the best,” he whispered, his voice full of appreciation.

you sat down on the edge of the bed and helped him sit up. but as you did, he couldn’t resist nuzzling into you, his head resting on your shoulder. he ate a few spoonfuls but seemed more interested in being close to you. his arms wrapped around your waist, and he snuggled against your side.

“thank you,” he mumbled between nuzzles. “you’re always so good to me.”

you smiled, running your fingers through his hair. “of course, suguru. i’ll take care of you until you’re better.”

once he finished, you set the empty bowl aside and turned to face him. his feverish gaze met yours, and in that moment, you knew you needed to offer more than just comfort food.

you moved closer, your hand gently finding its way to the back of suguru’s head, fingers threading through his hair. you felt the heat radiating from him, but you didn’t mind. in this quiet, intimate moment, you leaned in, and your foreheads met. your touch was soft, and your eyes locked with his, offering a silent reassurance that you’d be there for him.

suguru closed his eyes, his hand resting on your cheek, and he whispered, “thank you for taking care of me.”

your heart swelled with affection, and you continued to run your fingers through his hair, giving him the comfort he craved. in this close, loving moment, you knew that your presence was the best medicine for him.

nanami in today's episode... mappa is never beating the gay for nanami allegations

[thatfandomslut]

I'll Always Protect You

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Trigger Warning: Reader pushing Regina out of the way of the bus, established relationship between Regina/Reader, injuries, near death experience.

Request:

Valentine's / Followers Celebration; Regina George w/ quote 22 and piece of chocolate 3. Or: "You will never age for me, nor fade, nor die." w/ injury

Valentine's / Followers Celebration Requests are closed.

Regina stared in shock at where (Y/n) had once been standing as she pushed Regina. A bus was now in her place and Regina stared, shaking as she turned to see (Y/n) lying on the ground unconscious. She was thankful for the bus blocking her from the other students as she crumbled to the floor momentarily. Faculty had already rushed over to the girl sprawled on the ground, and Principal Duvall jumped into action, calling an ambulance on his phone as he kneeled by Regina, placing a hand on her shoulder. Once he confirmed they were on the way, he turned to the blonde.

"Are you okay? Are you injured, too?" He questioned in concern. Regina never realized until then that he was an incredibly caring person. Regina's eyes were still wide as she swallowed thickly. When she processed that he was still waiting for a response, he nodded slowly. "Good, come on, let's move away from this area. The ambulance might need to park here. Are you okay to walk? I know that you're probably in shock." When Regina shook her head, he gently helped her up and then moved her across the street where everyone else was. They were all staring at her for a moment, their gazes shifting to the worried faculty members huddling around (Y/n).

Regina didn't know what to do. Her girlfriend just pushed her out of the way of a bus and potentially saved her life. She risked her life for Regina's. Regina sat on the sidewalk, now letting Cady approach her. The strawberry blonde rested her hand on Regina's shoulder carefully and through all of the processing of what just happened, she leaned into Cady's touch. Cady gently squeezed her shoulder as an ambulance came. Janis was still on the other side of the bus, looking over in shock. There was so much going on that no one knew what to do or say. Still, they knew somehow this was going to be all over the school tomorrow.

Regina held back tears, wanting to know if (Y/n) would be okay. She wished that she wasn't frozen in her place. She felt guilty because it was from her not paying attention to her surroundings that (Y/n) even made the action. Everything that she had happened earlier seemed miniscule. Cady and Janis ruining her life, the Burn Book, the group therapy held by Ms. Norbury. Everything seemed so unimportant. The only thing on Regina's mind was the well-being of her girlfriend. She watched the paramedics haul her onto a stretcher and drive away urgently, and her face fell into her hands.

A couple of days later, Regina found it in her to visit (Y/n) at the hospital. Sucking in a breath, she knocked on a door. "Come in," (Y/n) croaked out, causing Regina to wince just at the sound of her voice. Walking into the room, she acknowledged all of the flowers around (Y/n). "Hey, Regina," the girl had a corrective neck collar on and looked tired. It was obvious that she was a bit loopy on medicine. Regina put a vase of roses down and sat by (Y/n)'s bedside. She didn't know how exactly to approach her. She had been waiting it out for the last two days since she couldn't visit yet anyway.

(Y/n) was still hooked into an IV, Regina noticed. Regina started to think about all of the things she had been wanting to say, but she had to sit with her thoughts for a long moment. She was grateful that (Y/n) was understanding as she sat next to her bedside. She knew (Y/n) almost lost her life for her, so what was she supposed to say to someone who would throw themselves in front of a bus for her? She wanted to yell at (Y/n) and call her stupid but remind her that she loved her. Instead, she settled with other words.

"You saved my life," Regina said, taking (Y/n)'s hand softly. She felt comforted by how warm it was. She was scared that if it was cold, the fantasy would crumble and (Y/n) would be gone. She swallowed down an unwanted sob as she tried to blink away tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. Even if (Y/n) was the only person she ever got vulnerable around in the past, she knew she had to be strong for her. "Despite everything that happened at school, you saved me. Why did you push me out of the way?"

(Y/n) smiled softly, using all of her strength to provide a gentle squeeze to Regina's hand. "Because, Regina, I love you. Even if I did die after the bus, I would fade away, but you're this ever-lasting, shining star. You will never age for me, nor fade, nor die. I'll always protect you. You deserve the entire world. And, if I had to do it again to save you again, I would." She said softly. Regina smiled back at her girlfriend before leaning in to kiss her gently, careful with her collar. (Y/n) kissed back happily, feeling like this moment made everything even more worth it.

Regina pulled away and her eyes searched (Y/n)'s for a long moment. "I love you, too. You're a star in my sky, too. I want you to know how important you are to me. I can't lose you, either." Regina said earnestly, the tears she attempted to hide finally spilling over her cheeks as she sniffled. She wasn't always the best with her words or her feelings. She often came out as crass or mean, but she couldn't lose (Y/n) just as much as the girl claimed she couldn't lose Regina. Regina had been scared out of her mind when the bus crashed into her, trying not to imagine what might happen if she didn't get any of those cute good-morning messages or late-night calls. (Y/n) was her star, too.

[azriels-shadowsinger]

Fix You (Azriel x healer!reader)

summary: Azriel falls for the healer and finds new random reasons to see her, but he never let’s her help when he’s truly hurt.

wc: 3.8k

a/n: warnings: mentions injuries and blood

Never in a million years would you have dreamed of such an opportunity presenting itself to you, but after the battle of Velaris, your healing magic became rather well known among the locals. Eventually, word of your abilities reached the high lord, and he requested to meet with you. Now, ten months later, you are learning about tonics, salves, the anatomy of illyrian wings, and so much more to use along side your magic.

“One last thing. Rhysand said that Azriel is requesting assistance. Could you go tend to his injuries before you go home?”

You hide your laugh and agree to go. This is the fifth time this month that Azriel has requested a healer. It would make sense that the spymaster of the night court would need healing after missions, but he never asks for help with that. Most recently, he came by the infirmary to ask you for a cream that will help with sore muscles. Sometimes he asks for healing after training when Cassian roughs him up a bit too much, but even then, its minor injuries. One time he even used Cassian as an excuse, claiming the general needed some medicine for a cold, but later that day Cassian seemed perfectly fine to you.

Your friends think Azriel must have a crush on you and that’s why he always seeks you out, but that’s crazy. And besides, you heard a rumor that he has feelings for the high lady’s sister, Elain. But who could blame him, she's perfect.

You arrive at the House of Wind and head for the shadowsinger’s room. The house was quiet, meaning Cassian and Nesta must be gone. As you walk towards his room, you see a shadow dart across the floor, brushing against your ankle as it flies by and making you giggle. Before you can even knock, Azriel opens his door, apparently alerted by the shadow.

“Good evening. You requested a healer?” He nods and opens the door wider to invite you in and sits on the corner of his bed.

“Cassian accidentally cut me with his sword when we were sparring this morning. The skin has healed, but it’s still hurting. I figured you could use some of that fancy healing magic on it so I’m not slacking at training tomorrow.” He extends his arm, and just like he said, theres a jagged pink scar running up the length of his tan, muscular forearm.

You agree and sit next to him, taking hold of his arm and placing your hand over the scar. A warm sensation spreads from your palm to his arm, and moments later, the raised scar is nothing more than a faint line. You hold on for a few moments longer than necessary, your eyes fixated on his hands. There was something you found so beautiful and alluring about the scars, you didn’t even notice your fingertips slowly trailing towards his hands. As soon as your fingertips brush against the edge of the scarred skin, Azriel jerks his arm away and stands up.

“I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-“ you trail off.

“It’s fine.” He snaps, avoiding your gaze to look at the wall behind you. “Thanks for the help.” His voice is softer now, but you can tell he’s upset. You hesitate, trying to figure out how to resolve this uncomfortable situation, but inevitably, you decide it’s best to leave.

“Happy to help. Have a good night.” You leave quickly, trying to avoid making things more awkward.

The entire way home, you berate yourself for doing something so foolish. One of the first things you learned about healing is to not make your patient more uncomfortable when you heal them. And there you were, touching something that obviously would make him uncomfortable. You don’t know the details about how his hands got so scarred, but with his fae healing, it can’t have been pretty. It reminds you of a patient you had a few years back with similar burns. You were constantly making cream to soothe the residual pain for them. You wonder if Azriel’s hands still hurt from time to time…

———

Azriel’s POV

“Do you plan to injure yourself again during training today, brother?” Cassian teases. “I see yesterday’s cut has healed already. Did a certain healer come by your room last night?”

“Shut up. It doesn’t matter.” I say gruffly and continue eating my breakfast.

“Why won’t you just ask her out?” He speaks with a mouth full of food, earning an annoyed look from Nesta.

“Because there’s no way that someone like her… it doesn’t matter. I’m over her now. Moving on.” I keep my gaze locked on the plate in front of me.

Last night, I tried to work up the courage to say something—anything, really. But when she touched me and I felt that magic run through me, I couldn’t think of anything but how beautiful she looked. I can’t help but remember the feeling of her hands on me, warm and comforting. And then, when she touched my hand, every horrible thought and insecurity ran through my head. How could someone so perfect ever want to be with someone so… damaged?

That’s also why I never seek her out when I return from missions. I don’t want her to see who I really am when I leave Velaris. One look at me with enemy blood on my hands and my own blood on my body, and she will run scared just like everyone else does. I’m just not ready for that rejection yet.

“I don’t believe that for a damn second, Az. You’re just scared. Take a chance, it could work out.” Nesta tries to be supportive, but she doesn’t get it. None of my friends do. I pretend to agree, but only to end the conversation quicker and move on to a new topic. Cassian gives a skeptical look, but moves on to discussing the evening’s plans.

———

Your POV

Two weeks pass, and you haven’t seen or heard from Azriel. It shouldn’t bother you this much, but you can’t help but miss his occasional visits, the way his shadows swirl around your ankles, the sound of his voice, the way he towers over you. Maybe you should find a reason to visit him. After all, he’s spent months coming up with ridiculous reasons to see you, you can do the same, right?

You look around your workstation at the various creams, tonics, and salves, eventually finding some that he would maybe find useful. Heading to the House of Wind, you can’t help but feel a bit nervous.

When you arrive, you see the High Lady’s sister, Nesta, walking through the foyer. “Hello. I was wondering if you could help me find Azriel. I have something for him.” You try to sound confident, but her smirk tells you she sees right through you.

“He’s at the training ring. The Valkyries and I just finished training, so it’s probably just him and Cassian up there.” You thank her and head that way.

When you arrive at the training ring, you are immediately stopped in your tracks by the sight of Azriel and Cassian sparring. You had always known the general had a nice body; you had healed it several times before. But Azriel… you have never seen such a glorious sight. The way the corded muscles of his back ripple when he moves and the way his wings, which were much larger than Cassian’s, were spread wide, you couldn’t help but stare. Eventually, Cassian notices you. He smirked, and then immediately moved to disarm Azriel, nicking him with the tip of the blade.

“What the hell, Cass? Why did you-“ Azriel turns and sees you. He turns back to Cassian, who has a shit eating grin on his face.

“Good thing your favorite healer is here to help.” You can’t help but blush at his words. Did Azriel talk about you to Cassian? “I’ll leave you two to it.” He saunters off, leaving you alone with Azriel. Azriel stands quietly for a moment, just staring at you. You can’t tell what he’s thinking, but the silence is killing you, and it’s taking all of your strength to not stare at the sweat dripping down his muscular body.

“I brought you something. You had mentioned once that you get headaches a lot. I have this tonic that can help with that. I figured I would bring it by.” You awkwardly fumble through your bag for the bottle, handing it to him. He looks at the bottle, then at you, a confused expression on his face. “Did you want me to help with that cut or…” you trail off, unsure of how to proceed.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Thanks. And thanks for the tonic. I’ll be sure to try it next time I get a headache.” He sits on a nearby bench, and you sit next to him. Reaching towards the cut, you realize you need to avoid what happened last time and ask for permission to touch him.

“May I?” He nods, and you place your hand over the small cut on his jaw. You feel his shadows swirling around your hand, almost curious about your actions. Your fingers trail over his sharp jaw line in admiration. “All done.” You stand and step away, waiting to see if he will say anything. You were about to leave, but you apparently can’t leave well enough alone, so you dig through your bag again.

“I have this other stuff you might want.” You find the soothing cream. “I had a patient a few years ago with burns similar to yours. She told me her scars would hurt occasionally, so I would make this cream for her. I don’t know if that happens to you as well, but if you want it, it’s yours.” You reach out to hand him the cream, but he just stares at you.

After a few moments, you awkwardly set it on the bench next to him. “Okay then. I’ll see you around.” You turn to leave, eager to end this train wreck of an interaction. You hurried out so quickly, that you didn’t hear the faint “thank you” coming from Azriel.

———

Several days pass without seeing Azriel. Gods, you were definitely so out of line with the cream. He probably doesn’t like to talk about the scars. You shouldn’t have gone to find him in the first place. He was obviously avoiding you. The bell above the door rings, indicating a patient has entered.

“One moment!” You call from the back of the workstation. When you make your way to the front room, you are surprised to see Azriel.

“What are you doing here?” You ask softly.

“I’m sorry for my rude behavior the other day. I didn’t know how to respond to your kind gesture. No one has ever…” he trails off, setting the empty container of hand cream on the counter. “It helped a lot. I was wondering if you had any more?” Your face lights up, causing him to smile as well.

“Of course! Wait right here, I’ll go grab it.” You rush excitedly to the storeroom. It was always such a wonderful feeling to help a patient feel better, but having been right about this made you feel so happy. You return with three containers of cream. “This one is the same as the one I gave you. This one is infused with lavender. And this one is infused with eucalyptus.” You explain excitedly. He chuckles at your eagerness.

“Thank you. I’ll let you know which smell I like best.” He smiles softly. “And thank you for before. For noticing. No one has ever taken notice like that before. People usually don’t like to even look at my hands, nonetheless, ask about it.” You blush.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you get the burns? It may help me formulate a more customized soothing cream for you in the future if I know how you got them. Only if you’re comfortable sharing.” Azriel sucks in a deep breath and looks at his hands.

“The details are… unpleasant.“ He hesitates. “Oil was poured over my hands and lit on fire. My bro-“ he pauses. “The people who did this ensured that I healed as they burned, so that the scarring was worse. Now I’m stuck with these ugly scars.” You try to hold back the tears in your eyes. How could somebody be so cruel and vicious as to do that to someone? “The pain is usually a sharp ache around my knuckles and fingers, if that helps.” He mutters quietly, avoiding your gaze. You hesitantly reach for his hand. He looks surprised by this, but lets you. You hold his large hand in both of yours and look deep into his eyes.

“I’m very sorry that happened to you. No one deserves such treatment. And your scars are not ugly, they represent what you have overcome.” Azriel blushes. A small shadow glides over your hands as you hold his, pulling a giggle from you. “The shadows are kinda cute.”

Azriel looks at you with surprise again. “Most people are afraid of them.” You watch a shadow weave between your fingers, letting go of Azriel’s hand to play with the shadow.

The two of you talk for a while longer before he eventually leaves. A smile stays on your face for the rest of the evening.

———

A week later.

You’re awoken late in the night by a chilly feeling across your skin. Assuming you forgot to shut your window, you groggily open your eyes to stand, but when you do, you see several shadows swirling around you and your room.

Panic immediately sets in. You have never seen Azriel’s shadows move in such a way, almost frantic. And the shadowsinger himself is nowhere near Velaris, supposedly on a mission, according to what Cassian said days ago. The shadows swirl around you, tugging you to stand. You throw on your coat and follow the shadows, praying to the gods that you don’t find what you think you will.

Upon arrival at the House of Wind, you hear panicked voices and yelling. You rush towards the commotion, finding a bloody mess when you arrive. You run towards Cassian and Nesta, trying to see what’s wrong, but when you look down, you see it.

Azriel. Covered in blood. Several arrows sticking out of his abdomen and wings, reeking of faebane. You immediately crouch and begin to inspect the damage.

“Cauldron, what happened? How long has he been hurt? Where is Madja?” You fire off a string of questions, not bothering to wait for an answer. Azriel groans in pain, barely conscious, with his eyes shut.

“He just winnowed here like this. We don’t know what happened, he pretty much passed out as soon as he got here.” Cassian looks at you nervously. “I tried to pull one of the arrows out, but the wounds won’t heal. The arrows are dipped in faebane.”

“Go get a bucket of water, a washcloth, and bandages.” You order to no one in particular before assessing the best plan for removal. When Nesta returns with the materials, you begin to remove the first arrow from his abdomen. Luckily, it didn’t hit any vital organs. When the arrow finally is removed, Azriel yells in pain.

“I know, I’m sorry. Just stay still and it will be over soon.” You try your best to use a soothing voice, but the shakiness is still evident. You get the second arrow out of his abdomen and begin to clean the wounds, working your healing magic as you go. Cassian and Nesta are standing over you, watching nervously, which only makes you more anxious.

“I got the worst of the injuries handled, he’s going to be fine. I still need to work on his wings, which may take a while and won’t be pretty. You two may want to go for now.” You say, not looking away from Azriel. Cassian and Nesta reluctantly leave, promising to return with the others in a bit.

“This is going to hurt, I’m sorry.” You warn Azriel, who’s still unconscious, while you grip the arrow in his upper left wing and work to remove it. As soon as the arrow moves slightly through his wing, his eyes open wide and he howls in pain. He looks at you, just now noticing that it’s you tending to his injuries, and looks panicked.

“Wh-what… how are you here?” He rasps, wincing as the arrow is fully removed. He tries to sit up, but you force him to remain laying down.

“Your shadows found me. I figured you sent them.”

“No. They’re supposed to find Madja or Feyre if I get badly injured. I don’t know why they went to you.” He says gruffly. You try not to get upset by his words as you begin to stitch and heal the wound. Something about his demeanor is vastly different from how he usually acts, colder even.

"Well, you got me instead. Sorry to disappoint.” You mutter, trying to hide the hurt in your voice. You can tell he wants to say something else, but as soon as you grab ahold of the second arrow, all he can manage is groans and curses.

After you remove the third and final arrow, Azriel speaks. “You’re not supposed to be the one who handles my major injuries.” You can’t hide the pain in your eyes, so you look away to focus on working your healing magic on the final wound and bandaging it.

“I can handle more than basic tonics and minor injuries, you know.” You say quietly, cleaning away some of the blood with a washcloth. You gather the bloodied cloths and arrows, moving quickly to dispose of them.

“I know you can. I just don’t want-“ his words are cut short by the high lord rushing in, immediately requesting a status update. Azriel didn’t need to finish his sentence for you to know what he was about to say. He doesn’t want you here. You turn from Azriel to give Rhysand a full briefing on the injuries and the expected recovery process. After calming a bit, he begins to help Azriel up and to his room.

“It looks like you’re in good hands. I’m going to go update Madja on the situation so she can manage your recovery.” You say softly, avoiding eye contact. Before he can say anything else, you’re gone.

———

You avoid Azriel for a couple weeks. Every time he tries to come to the infirmary, you send another healer to take care of him. You couldn’t help asking Madja how his recovery was progressing, but she refused to tell you, stating that you were perfectly capable of asking him yourself. You know that you aren’t as skilled as Madja in some aspects of being a healer, but you never thought that Azriel would doubt your abilities. You guess that’s why he never asked for your help after missions. Maybe those months of ridiculous requests were just a joke to him, something to laugh about with his friends.

The sun goes down, signaling that it’s time for you to head home. You say goodbye to Madja and leave out the front door.

“Y/n.” You immediately turn toward the voice. Waiting by the door, you find Azriel. You look him up and down, assessing for injuries and observing his healing progress. The scars on his wings are only faint marks now.

“You look like you’re healing well. If you need medical attention, I suggest asking a more skilled healer, like Madja.” You say bitterly, walking past him. He sighs heavily.

“I didn’t mean to upset you that night. You weren’t supposed to see me like that.” He follows behind you, catching up quickly due to his long legs.

"Yes, you made that very clear. You didn’t want me there, you don’t trust me to handle your manor healing. I heard you loud and clear.” You refuse to look at him.

"No, that’s not-“ You turn down a side road suddenly, trying to evade him. “I know you can handle healing my more serious injuries, I just didn’t want you there.” You stop and stare at him, slightly in disbelief at his words. Is he really this cruel, or is he just really this bad at speaking to people? He reads your expression and backtracks.

“No, it’s not that I don’t want you around, I just don’t want you there.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Gods, I’m just making this worse. Can I start over?” You don’t respond, but he takes the fact that you aren’t walking away as a yes.

“I didn’t want you to handle my major injuries because, when I’m focused on my missions, I am a completely different person. I hate who I am outside of this city. I hate what I have to do, but I do it to protect my court and protect my family. When I get back, it sometimes takes me a while to get back to normal. I didn’t want you to see me like that, so I wouldn’t scare you off. It seems I managed to do that anyway, so I guess I was right to stay away.” You finally look at him. Who treated him so poorly to make him think so low of himself?

You take a step closer to him and look into his eyes. “I wasn’t scared of you that night. I was scared that you could’ve died. I was scared of the way you pushed me away. But never of you. I’ve healed fae from all over with horrible histories, grusome wounds, and severe PTSD. You’re job is hard, but you shouldn’t handle that burden alone.”

“You spend enough of your time fixing people, I don’t want to be another person you feel like you need to fix.” He says in a self loathing tone.

“You aren’t broken, Azriel. You don’t need fixing, just support.” You take his hand. “Let me be there for you. Let me be your friend. Please.” He stares at your hand holding his for a few moments.

“What if I don’t want you as my friend?” You frown, and he immediately realizes how that must have come across as you attempt to pull your hand away. He tightens his grip on your hand. “What I mean is, will you go to dinner with me? Like, on a date?” You look at him surprised, blushing hard. “Cmon, y/n. I thought I was pretty obvious that I have feelings for you with my dozens of ridiculous injuries and requests.” He chuckles.

“I would love to get dinner, Azriel.” He gives you a wide smile. The two of you begin to walk side by side down the street. After a few moments of silence, Azriel speaks.

“Now that you’re no longer mad at me, can I have more of that soothing cream? I’ve been out for like a week, but I’ve been too afraid to ask you for more.” You laugh.

“Of course you can.”

Have a great weekend everyone!!

[strawbellyx3]

Some thoughts on JinMao in The Apothecary Diaries LN (spoilers)

I love how Maomao's love for Jinshi is written in the Light Novel. She's an unreliable narrator and can't put a name on what she feels for a long time and heck, for the most time she doesn't even want to. The beginning of volume 6 showing this perfectly when she didn't want to leave Jinshi's hair stick behind, carried it with her and when she slept, she kept it near her chest because she didn't want to have it anywhere where she could see it. The symbolism *chef kiss* (she doesn't want to face her feelings but also still carries them close to her chest)

She purposely chooses to avoid thinking about any potential feelings for Jinshi and at the end of the same volume it's also stated that she does have some kind of affection for him that she can't yet put into words.

For readers, it's easy to view Maomao's avoidant attitude as disinterest. Even more so paired with how she doesn't seem to ever be nervous around Jinshi. But really, we don't need blushy nervous Maomao to understand what she's feeling. Her feelings come to show everytime she worries about Jinshi's well being and goes out of her way to get him to eat and rest, takes time of her own day to make sure that he's well.

When at the beginning, she always considered him bringing all these tasks to her as bothersome. Maomao just wanted to experiment with poison and make medicine, she didn't want to spend time on anything else, really.

Then, in volume 9 she's even willing to give up her agency if it meant helping ease his burdens.

Maomao, miss "I don't want to have anything to do with this, this is bothersome" tells him to use all of her. Use her until she falls apart. (while kabedoning him, love Maomao being an absolute girlboss even when she tells him to use her)

She's worried by his selflessness. How he's unable to use other people to reach his goals and shoulders everything on his own, wanting to save everyone. Maomao gets upset by it and worries he'd never get anything in return and become as luckless in life as her adoptive father. Who carries the same selflessness and kindness.

I don't think we talk enough about how much it means for Maomao to get to a point where she would rather get used by Jinshi than to see him exhaust himself.

This whole scene afterwards is just..generally really heartwarming honestly.

(Volume 9 Chapter 20)

Her hands went to Jinshi’s cheek. “You’re only human, Master Jinshi. You’re not some mythical immortal who can save everyone.” She held his face in her hands, the fingers of her left hand brushing his scar. “You can be wounded, scarred, brought low. Only human.”

Who was she talking to? She knew Jinshi was standing in front of her, but for some reason she kept seeing Luomen’s face.

No wonder I’m so upset. The principle that drove Jinshi’s behavior seemed very similar to Luomen’s. She was afraid that if he went on like this, he would end up just as luckless in life as her old man. Just like Pops... He’d spent himself trying to rescue everyone and everything. Like a fool. He should have wanted more, been greedier, but instead he’d suffered his fate patiently. Suffered and suffered, and for what? To become an old man resigned to his empty hands. This was, it was fair to say, Maomao’s one criticism of her father. She’d felt it keenly in the affair with the Shaonese shrine maiden. She respected Luomen immensely. A man who never lost his kindness no matter what unhappiness he encountered was like a miracle. The price, though, was that his body and his heart were both battered. In time he became so that everything he did, he did in the expectation of defeat. Would Jinshi end up like him one day? Or— “Please, please don’t go doing anything else like burning a brand into your skin,” Maomao said. “I heard you...the first several times,” Jinshi replied. “Are you sure?” A smile flitted across Maomao’s face, and she slowly pulled her hands away.

[writtenbymoonflower]

hi!!! could i pls request some casual dominance polymarauders 🙈

Thanks for requesting, hope this is okay! gn!reader x poly!marauders, kinda modern!au

cw: kinda d/s dynamics, boys order reader around a bit. if it's not your cup of tea feel free to skip!

810 words

You were attacked with affection the minute you had stepped foot in the house, but you weren’t complaining. It was like James had appeared from thin air to help you shuck your coat off and hang it up for you. 

“Christ, babe. It didn’t know how freezing it was out there. You’ve got like, bits of ice on you.” He fussed, scrutinizing your shaking body and wind-pinched face. 

“It wasn’t that bad, the walk was pretty.” You thought that would be reassuring, but James just looked more aghast. 

“You walked the whole way here?”

“I mean, yeah. I didn’t have money for the bus.” You admitted shamefully. It seemed like Sirius had appeared in the room to give you a (loving) talking to as well. 

“Then in that case, you call one of us, yeah?” He grabbed your face gently, turning you away from James to look at him. He had his whole intimidation thing going on that made you want to melt into the floor. “You don’t get to put yourself in danger walking in this.” He gave your chin an affectionate squeeze before dropping his hand from your face, you let your gaze fall to the floor.

“I will,” You muttered, barely intelligible. This time it was James who tilted your face up. 

“Speak up baby, and look Pads in the eye when you talk to him.” He was gentle but still assertive. You quickly corrected. 

“I will call you next time.” Still mousy, but at a discernible volume, and now you could see when Sirius’ usual grin overtook his concerned features. He pulled you into him, giving you a tight squeeze. 

“You’re okay, babydoll. You’re not in trouble.” He kissed your neck, making it hard for you to breathe. 

“Who’s not in trouble?” You heard Remus’ even tone from the kitchen. You tugged the two men next to you over to where Remus was. He was sitting at the counter, doing some work on his laptop.

“Well it seems like Y/N was determined to give us the fright of our life this afternoon.” James joked (rather dramatically in your opinion), but it’s all good now. 

“They will be requiring some hot chocolate, though.” Sirius pinched at your nose, making an awful cooing sound. “Baby, your face is still all cold.” 

Remus stood up to rummage through the box of hot drink mixes. “Pads love, could you run upstairs and grab the sweater off the end of the bed?” his voice turned more serious as he looked at you. “It doesn’t surprise me that you’re still cold, that shirt likely isn’t doing much to keep you warm.” 

“Actually,” You spoke up, ignoring his comment. “Could I have some coffee instead?” James scoffed and Remus rolled his eyes. 

“It’s half past five, baby dove. You’ll be up all night if you have caffeine right now.” Remus clearly wasn’t in the mood to be argued with, but you pressed in.

“I’ll be fine! Besides, my head hurts and I need to get some work done.” 

“Yeah, well, get that idea out of your head.” James shook your shoulders affectionately. “You’ve been burning the candle at both ends lately, you need a rest.” 

“Who needs a rest?” Sirius trotted over to you, manhandling you to get Remus’ sweater over your head. 

“Y/N,” James tattled. “They think they’re getting coffee at this hour.” He laughed like you were being obviously ridiculous. “They also have a headache and didn’t tell us.” You must’ve looked absolutely appalled and quickly floundered to control the damages. 

“I didn’t think it was important! It’s not bad anyway.” 

“Well, let’s try to keep it from getting bad.” Remus handed you a steaming cup of hot cocoa, along with a packet of biscuits. “Here, eat these so you can take some pain pills.” He glanced over to James, making the bespectacled boy rummage through the medicine box while Sirius set on getting a glass of water for you. 

“I don’t need any medicine, it will go away on its own.” You pleaded, covering your mouth full of biscoff and feeling flustered from all the attention. Sirius clearly disagreed, because the comment earned you a hard pinch on your bum. 

“Do what Moons said” He punctuated the order with a kiss to your forehead, letting you know he wasn’t really upset with you. Sirius may play stern, but he was really just silly and enjoyed ordering you around a bit, knowing that it made you heated and blushy. 

You set down your hot drink and half-eaten snack to take the pills and water, swallowing your pills and finishing the whole glass before you handed it back. 

“There you go,” James cooed, pulling you into his side. “That’s a good girl” 

You groaned, earning a dark chuckle from Remus.

"Poor baby," He teased, clearly not feeling very sorry for you.

It was going to be a trying night.

[lxkeee]

I am not feeling well rn can I get lucifer taking care of his sick s/o..

LUCIFER TAKING CARE OF HIS SICK S/O HEADCANONS

This man... Doesn't know how to take care of himself.

But, he does know how to take care of his significant other.

When Lucifer finds out his beloved darling is sick, he was so worried.

He didn't know sinners can get sick.

They do, he just didn't know as he doesn't go out much to learn more about his people.

Anyways,

When he found out [y/n] still sleeping in which is unusual.

He got worried and decided to wake them up.

He went to their/his/her room to see [y/n] curled up in a ball and he thought his darling was just tired and wanted to give them/him/her some more time to sleep.

When Lucifer was about to leave, he heard a sneeze.

🚨 alarm rang into his head.

He quickly went to [y/n]'s side, seeing how tired and pale they/he/her is/were.

Placing a hand over [y/n]'s forehead, wincing as he felt the heat from their/his/her skin.

“Oh god... You're burning up...” Lucifer murmurs making [y/n] groan softly.

Panic. It's been so long since he had taken care of someone sick.

He quickly left the room to get a bowl of cold water and some cloth. Retuning back to [y/n]'s room.

He gently folded the cloth and dipped it into the cold water, squeezing the excess water before placing the cloth on to his beloved's forehead.

The cold helps cool down the temperature of their/his/her skin.

“Thank you, love...” [y/n] murmurs, opening their/his/her eyes slowly, voice weak.

Lucifer tried not to tear up but gave [y/n] a small smile, “Don't worry about it...” he says and [y/n] smiled before returning to sleep.

Lucifer sighs as he left the room, going to the kitchen to prepare some soup for [y/n] as they/he/she still needed breakfast and need to take some meds.

Lucifer prepares the soup, leaving the pot to boil as he looked through the medicine kit for some medicine that can help her.

Finding none, he had to text Charlie to get him some and the girl was glad to help him and [y/n].

Lucifer continues to cook as he waited for Charlie to bring him the medicine.

Coincidentally, after the soup was done. Charlie arrived with the medicine and promised to visit [y/n] once they/he/she feels more better.

Lucifer thanked her daughter and watched her leave.

Retuning back to the task at hand, he prepared a bowl of steaming hot chicken soup, a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice and a glass of water and along with some medicine.

He places them on to the tray, carrying it back to [y/n]'s room.

Placing the tray into the table, he noticed [y/n] seems to be sweating a lot from their/his/her fever.

He gently wakes them/him/her up enough for him to ask for their/his/her consent.

“Darling, I'm going to change your shirt okay? So that you'll be more comfortable...” he says and [y/n] nodded.

Lucifer smiles before going to [y/n]'s closet to look for a comfortable tshirt they/he/she could wear.

Using his powers, Lucifer closes his eyes as he ltet his power do the work of changing [y/n] out of their/his/her shirt.

Placing the used t-shirt into the laundry basket before returning to [y/n]'s side, nudging them/him/her awake gently.

“Wake up love, I've prepared some soup for you and some medicine for you to drink after.”

This man would feed his darling despite [y/n] protesting they/he/she can do it.

He wouldn't listen to them/him/her and just feed them/him/her himself.

After giving [y/n] their/his/her meal and making them/him/her take medicine.

He would keep watch and monitor [y/n]'s healing progress, changing the cloth when it's no longer cold. Waking [y/n] up when it's time to take meds.

Man is worried the whole time.

When [y/n] returns back to normal, it would be his turn to get sick as he occasionally gives [y/n] forehead kisses when they/he/she were/was sick.

All works taglist:

@kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @cherry-4200 @luleck @crystalplays28 @galaxyj3lly @froggybich @selvyyr @brithedemonspawn @adaizel @thedarkkitten

[wh1msic4alwasab1]

𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐭 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐟𝐞𝐝 𝐕𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 𓇗

synopsis: stuck in a tent with luocha after he gives you the wrong meds

tags: aphrodisiacs, dom/switch!reader, riding, thigh riding, vulgar, explicit. dubcon(?)

wrd cnt: 1k+

a/n: need luocha in a way that’ll put me in the ward

You huff, your head hitting the pillow underneath you.

“Something wrong?” Your partner asks you.

“No…I just have a headache, it won’t go away” You pout, rubbing your temples.

It was probably your dehydration, or stress, or both.

The two of you were on a mission to get some materials, and camped out overnight before heading to the area.

A small fire illuminated your camp outside which you could see from the small crack you left open in the tent, where you and Luocha sat.

“I have something that can help”.

You sprung up, “Really?”

Of course he did, he was always prepared for anything.

Nodding with a smile, he handed you a small, cream colored vial with small pieces of flora. It smelled like Vanilla.

Luocha noticed the aroma, quickly looking up as you chugged the bottle.

“Wait-“ He said, his hand reaching out to stop you, but he was too late.

You freaked, thinking he gave you poison or something on accident.

“What- WHAT?! Am I gonna die…What did you give me-?!” Frantically, you leaned toward him, begging for answers to soothe your delusions.

He gulped, looking as if he was too embarrassed to tell you what you just drank.

“It won’t kill you. It’s just flat leaved vanilla and rose water.”

Your look of confusion and his avoidance of eye contact didn’t answer much.

“Oh…Then why’d you make a big deal out of it? Do you still have any pain meds?” You ask.

“I do. It’s just that….that concoction you drank is typically used as an…aphrodisiac.” He says too calmly.

You break the silence, hours seemed to have gone by in those long couple of seconds.

“You really believe in that herbal medicine stuff? Pfft- It’s probably just a placebo effect.”

That’s what you had believed. Had.

What you couldn’t believe was the heat that started somehow radiating through your body.

First, you thought it was just the fire burning a little too bright.

Then, you started taking off some clothing.

A jacket, then your sleeves, leaving you in just an undershirt. You felt as if a warm liquid was coating all your organs and expanding all the vessels in your blood.

“Y/n? Are you feeling already?” He asked calmly.

You wipe the small beads of sweat off your forehead, and try to go outside to get some of the cool night air on your skin.

Worried for your wellbeing, Luocha grabs your arm before you leave the tent, “Where are you going? It’s dangerous to go out alone.”

His hand felt like the coolness you needed.

As if you couldn’t hold yourself back, you leaped into him, lips pressed together.

You felt as if your face had been extinguished, as if steam would surface off your lips and burn his.

You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him deeper, moaning into his mouth. Luocha was taken aback at first, but soon his hands were roaming all over your body, his kiss matching your urgency.

“We- We can't do this here y/n” he managed to say between kisses, trying to pull away but you only reeled him back in.

“We can’t do this here, or at all?,” you whispered, your voice dripping with desire as you grinded your lower half on his thigh, feeling your folds get slippery against him.

“I meant…we shouldn’t”, he says, his eyebrows twitching as your hand starts to palm his cock as you sit on top of him.

“Why not…? No one’s here…no one has to know”. You say against his lips, kissing them again as you feel him get harder under your hand.

“Y/n- But we…” he groans as you start to kiss his neck, leaving love bites all over with your hand in his blonde locks, earning his approval as his hand snakes under your ass and grinds your own hips against him harder.

You decide to take matters into your own hands, or mouth, as you start to kiss your way down his chest and open his pants, freeing his already hard length. Without hesitation, you take him into your mouth and start to suck, feeling him twitch and moan above you.

“Y/n…I can’t…I can’t do this….we need to stop…”. His words are weak and unconvincing as you continue to suck and swirl your tongue around him, feeling him grow even harder.

You pull away and look up at him, “Do you really want to stop?” You ask, your voice sultry and full of lust.

You can see the struggle on his face, but eventually, he gives in and pulls you up to kiss you, his hands roaming all over your body. He quickly strips off the rest of your clothes and does the same.

“Fuck….” He mumbles under his breath, your naked body splayed open over him, all the consequences seemed to drift away as soon as he leaned back, elbows on the hard tent surface as he watches you slide your cunt along his shaft, getting your slick all over his pre-cum leaking cock before sinking down slowly.

As he entered you, you both gasp in pleasure, the concoction working its magic as you both move together in a rhythm that leaves you both huffing and moaning each other's names.

His hands grip your hips, guiding you up and down at a steady pace as you lean down to kiss him, tongues swirling in a passionate dance.

“You feel so good…so warm,” he whispers against your lips, his breath hot against your skin. You smirk and quicken your pace, feeling his cock hit the perfect spot inside you.

“Do you like that?” You say, knowing he can't resist your teasing ways.

He growls in response, flipping you over so you're under him, his hands gripping your wrists and pinning them above your head. “You know I do” He spouts against your ear. You moan in pleasure and submission, your body tingling with pleasure at his words and display of power.

He begins to move faster, his hips slamming into yours, sending you both into a frenzy of ecstasy with his mouth latched onto your nipple, every feeling more intense now. Your moans and cries only encourage him, knowing he's driving you closer and closer to the edge. His pace made it seem as if he was the one to drink front the vial.

“Come for me,” he whispers in your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. And with those words, you both reach your climax, the pleasure coursing through your bodies and overwhelming your senses. You collapse in a sweaty and satisfied heap, panting and trying to catch your breath after squirting all over his cock.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[norrisleclercf1]

What about some Jenson Button and wife reader where she works for F1 but feels unwell during a race or so due to heat exhaustion and then collapses and it all ends in fluff

A/N: Protective soft husband!Jenson with F1 Presenter!Wife um yes pls

You knew something was wrong when you woke this morning. Jenson was still asleep, and the only thing that sounded good was a cold shower. You knew you had to be at the track soon. Wasting no time you quickly threw yourself together but even looking in the mirror you could see that you didn't feel good.

Jenson stirred in his sleep, he didn't have to be up for a while and honestly you didn't want to worry your husband. Smiling you kiss his cheek and stand up straight, wobbling you steady yourself as the wave of nausea rolls pass.

Closing your eyes, you feel it pass as you head on with your day. It was a hot day, which didn't help the fact you were already burning up. Your coworkers knew something was wrong, you weren't asking your normal questions. Ones that the drivers loved and fans alike, instead you asked basic round of the mill questions. When a break was called, you move to the shade sitting down.

"Mrs. Button? Are you okay?" Looking up you see Logan Sargent, the young American wearing a face of worry as he was your last interview before Quali as he moves to crouch in front of you. "Ah, Logan. I'm fine honey." You give your best media smile, but it doesn't fool him.

"Go, go, I'll be fine. Good luck in Quali." You wave him off as he runs to the Williams garage. Halfway through you feel the nausea roll through your body, sending you tittering forward. "Woah! Y/n!" Will catches you, microphone in hand as your legs go limp.

"There, we go. Can we get some help over here?" Will calls, careful not to alert everyone else, but enough to cause someone to run to medics. "Don't feel, good." You groan, resting your head on his shoulder. "It's alright, we're getting you help then I'll call Jenson." Will whispers, handing you a cold-water bottle.

He doesn't unscrew it for you to drink but instead places it on the back of your neck. Shaking you relax under the cold. "The medics are here, they've got you." Will reassures you, worried beyond his mind.

-----------

"Mr. Button?" Jenson turns, facing the 2nd Williams driver. "It might be none of my business but, Mrs. Button seemed really sick, and um I think she might've gone to the medics tent." Logan didn't get anymore information out as Jenson is already running and shoving his way through the crowded paddock.

Busting through the tent he collides into Will Buxton. "Will, where," He stops seeing you lying on the cot and rushes past not even letting Will tell him you were okay. "Baby? Darling? What happened?" Jenson fusses over you, worry etched into his forehead.

"Jenson, I'm okay. How'd you find out I was here? Will and the others just brought me here." Voice croaking, both you and Jenson cringing at the sound. "Don't talk, that kid, Logan told me." He whispers, touching your slightly feverish forehead. "Oh, okay." You whisper, eyes heavy as the cold medicine starts to make you drowsy.

"I'll be right here, sleep. He whispers, scanning the tent and seeing no one around as he scooted closer and pulling you half into his lap. Sighing you let your heavy eyes close smiling as you smell your husband.

"I'll be right here when you wake." he whispers, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.