#caretaker y/n

[rainfallnightmare]

Chapter 6

Deadly Mistake

(Experiment Sun, Moon and Eclipse x Caretaker Y/n)

Genre: Angst to Fluff

Warning: Shocks, Swearing, character death, Blood

word counts: 1257

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July 22th, 2087

CBR

Sunny’s POV:

Y/n has been staying with us in the facility for almost 2 days now. I was both happy and worried since this Marcus human has been a problem to Y/n. It was both a good and bad thing since when Y/n is here. Cause the good would be that Marcus littles helpers won’t be bugging us very much but it’s a bad thing because Y/n can still get hurt because of these helpers.

It was around midday and Y/n was away for a little bit cause they mentioned getting something from home. Now I wouldn’t be worried if Simone was there with them to get whatever they needed. But with Marcus out there and Y/n was alone to retrieve their belongings worries me ten times more. “Sun I know you're worried about Y/n safety but you got to believe in them” Moon said as he placed his hand on my shoulder as he and Eclipse were by my side.

“I know Moon” 

Letting out a soft sigh. I changed into my “Ghost” form that Y/n called and floated in the air for a bit. As we waited for Y/n to get back. I heard a door open as both Moon and I turned to see Marcus co-workers were in our chambers. Both Moon and I hissed that the humans since they always caused us harm when Y/n not here. “Oh quit your hissing you freaks” Marcus’s right hand man said rudely making Moon and I even more defensive. Soon as the humans got closer, I didn’t see that they had their stun sticks with them til I heard a zipping sound.

“Be gone you humans, before you ask for a quick death!”

The Humans just laughed as the right hand man walked even closer. “Not going to happen” Before I could say anything, all of us heard a door open and saw Y/n walking in on time.

Y/N POV:

When I got back from retrieving my laptop and a few books. I stopped when I entered my celestial astral’s chamber to be met with Marcus' crew. Seeing Anna, Marcus's right hand man/gal, I had a bad feeling that she was trying to do something with the subjects.

“Why are you here? You guys were told multiple times to not be here as they are no longer your concerns!” I glared at Anna who just let out a sarcastic laugh as she turned towards my direction. “Like we were gonna listen to you or the director, you of all people should have been the one to have left but as these freaks were nothing more then experiments to test and kill” Anna said holding one of the stun sticks that caused Sun and Moon to growl at. Eclipse was watching as two of Marcus' men were keeping him at bay while the rest was with Sun, Moon and I.

“Like I would let you do that to them, now leave or else” I tossed my belongings to the ground as they were in a secure case so my laptop wouldn’t get broken. I looked to see that Moon and Sun were ready to attack Anna or the others if they made a wrong move as I walked over to her. “Or else what you monster lover, you have no power over me or my crew” Anna pointed the stun stick at my torso as she was ready to press the button to shock me.

“Their not monster’s unlike you and Marcus, Now call your crew back and leave before you get them killed”

Anna was itching to do some kind of harm whether it was towards me or to the guys. She does like taking orders from anyone who is lower rank than her but I didn’t give a damn since she was no better like Marcus. “Be careful sunstar” Sun said worryingly as Anna quickly turned towards him and Moon. “Shut your mouth experiment!” Anna growled as she turned to me.

Before I could have said anything. All of us heard screaming as Anna and I looked to see two of her crew were slaughtered by Eclipse. Anna then got trigger happy and turned on the stun stick that gave me a painful shock to my system.

“*Groans*”

It was so painful. Anna smirks and shocks me again til I drop to the ground. “Pathetic” Anna turned off the stun stick but then gasped when she got tackled down and was held by her throat. "Wrong move human" I heard as I painfully opened one eye to see that Sunny was ready to kill Anna.

Before I could say anything. Sun picked Anna up and threw up to a wall that caused her to die from the impact. "S-Sunny" I called out to him while I goran at the pain that was inflicted onto me from the stun stick. The rest of Anna and Marcus' crew quickly booked it as they didn't want to die. I felt someone picking me up and had me against their chest.

"I got you comet" 

It was Eclipse as he had me in his arms while Sun and Moon chased out or killed any person that was in Anna’s crew that stayed behind. I tried to move my arm but the pain only got worse as I gritted my teeth and my arm just went limp for now. “Fuck it hurts” I laid my head against Escipse chest as he just holds me in his arms that was covered in blood.

“Are you alright Star” Moon and Sun came over to us once everyone was gone or dead. I wanted to move but I didn’t know how long the pain from the stun stick would last. “In pain but alive” I gave the trio a painful smile as Sun slightly cupped my cheek against his large astral hand. “Only if they would have listened to your warning sunstar, now you're in this condition because of their foolish act” Sun lightly caressed my cheek while moon carefully took my limp hand in his and Eclipse just held me and gently ran a claw lightly against my hair. “People are just selfish and ignorant here, sometimes I wonder if I am the same as them” I closed my eyes and tried to relax to let the stun pain ease up a bit.

“Your not like them comet”

Eclipse spoke as Moon and Sun agreed with him. I open my eyes to look at the three. “How do you know that?” I ask even tho it was a very dumb question for them to answer. “We know because sunstar, your heart glows with care, sympathy, love and bravery to us astral beings” Sun said as he gently tilted my head towards him. As I was about to comment on his statement, I was silent by sun pressing his astral lips against mine in a kiss.

This took my breath away for a moment as Sun broke the kiss. I was speechless yet happy as Moon took his turn and kissed me. After Moon had his moment of kissing me, Eclipse had his turn when moon broke away. I was warm both inside and out when all three of them showed me this side of them. “Hope you understand that your ours comet” Eclipse mentions once he broke the kiss. I chuckled softly and nodded my head since I chose this fate of mine.

“I know”

#dca au #aus #dca fandom #eclipse x reader #experiment eclipse #experiment moon #experiment sun #moondrop x reader #sundrop x reader #caretaker y/n #eh sun #eh moon #eh #eh eclipse #eh y/n #Experiment's Hearts #fnaf sb au

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

come rest your bones next to me ; satoru gojo, suguru geto

synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most. 

word count; 4.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues

a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33

”holy shit!”

the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.

”satoru, it’s too early for this...”

”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes. 

your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain.

(snowing.)

with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed. ”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.

satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks. 

maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, the bare branches of your apricot tree. every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth. 

it’s beautiful. 

satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close. someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded. 

all he can properly remember is that sight. one that knocked the breath from out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost other-worldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a rift in the stratosphere. 

the first snow of the year.

and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.

there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.

like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.

and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again. 

(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.

and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s lucky.)

high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.

and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling. 

a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.

he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree. suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.

— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.

satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.

(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)

”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.” 

he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.

it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.

so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.

satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.

”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.

”never.”

a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms; only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.

a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”

and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.

his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”

his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.

he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face. 

when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. they’re not faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles.

you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips. 

hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.

satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.

because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics and still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs. 

what more could a man want?

”hey, idiots!” 

the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.

”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”

”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.

suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there. 

(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)

with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.

”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.

then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”

satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”

a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”

a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”

and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”

satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.

despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”

”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.

”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist with palpable fondness. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”

satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his cobalt eyes — a meaningful look.

suguru sighs.

”yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”

his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.

he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot. 

when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.

the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.

(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.

and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)

suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.

when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.

that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently. suguru smiles.

”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue. his voice is soft, palpably so, buzzing with warmth and safety and something that makes you want to stay cuddled up to him forever.

satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.” 

but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”

a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”

you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”

a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.

and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s spine. so he only inches closer, without a word. 

his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.

and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology. 

(i'm sorry, you big baby.)

satoru grins.

you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.

”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”

he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”

”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”

”and don’t play dumb, either.”

a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”

said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown. 

and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.

”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”

satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”

you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”

”hmph.”

suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.

and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again. 

that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu; the sensation of a certain something flourishing deep inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.

this everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.

(married.)

sometimes he still can’t believe it. 

”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.” 

and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.

and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.

your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.

his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.

(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)

and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.

a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.

and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.

”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”

”— you’re disgusting.”

the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.

and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.

you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.

then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?” 

”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.

silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.

”… santa can only do so much, baby.”

two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.

”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.” 

you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”

”of course not! blasphemy.” 

a moment passes.

”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”

a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.

then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow. 

he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.

and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious.

he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice. 

for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?

(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)

— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.

it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.

and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.

warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter. 

he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself. 

and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest. 

he hopes it never goes away.

#genuinely fucked up that suguru geto isnt in my kitchen rn </3 #i just think sugu is such a caretaker. makes u breakfast and peels ur satsumas w/o u even asking. bc it makes him happy :’3 hes so Mother #i think he lowkey gets just a little bit uncomfortable when u or gojo try to do the same for him… he likes doting on u #but obv he deserves to be pampered too!! just gotta ease him into it #and i think gojo has a hole in his heart where love should be. bc he wasnt given enough as a child #im not sure what to think when it comes to his parents (since we know literally nothing abt them) but... #the idea of him finding some comfort in the memory of his mom…. maybe not realizing that he misses her…..… i think its very sad. and good. #listened to ricky montgomery while writing this i think it mightve healed me #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto x reader x gojo #gojo fluff #geto fluff #satosugu x reader #satosugu x you #satosugu x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #……… thats… a lot of tags.

[starrspice]

Now that we know what Canon Eclipse is like I wanna see them interact with the grubbiest most gremlin Y/N possible

Bonus little call out from my friends @pika5544 and @miracleboymason

#fnaf ruin #fnaf ruin dlc #ruin dlc spoilers #ruin spoilers #security breach ruin #ruin dlc #dca fandom #eclipse #fnaf eclipse #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #fanart #eclipse x y/n #eclipse x reader #god i love eclipse #pls i want a Y/N that will turn them into a frantic nanny #make their caretaker side kick into overdrive #pls itd be so funny #my art

[victarin]

done for the weekly prompt in Dca enjoyers discord :) sun and moon watching The Last Unicorn (their first movie outside the pizzaplex) bc i kept thinking abt it

#not happy with how some parts of this turned out but ahwhahjw at least im drawing #fnaf dca #y/n tag #my art #id in alt #blood #this was just going to be a ‘haha they get emotional over how pretty the movie is’ comic and then I thought abt it some more #and how much moon would regret #as someone who isn’t necessarily supposed to be sentient #and as someone who had the vanny virus and can’t fully recover from what it made them do #because they lost some part of their identity as a caretaker #and the identity of someone near human #they live in their new home and away from their own Haggards castle #but they’ll always feel the regret they weren’t supposed to feel #which in its own way makes them more human

[somber-sapphic]

hi it was me who sent in the request it was a emily x reader and the prompt was i am not sick i think , it was the reader who is sick thank you 🫶

A Call For Rest

〖Summary: After an exhausting week Emily convinces you to go home and rest.〗

〖Word Count: 900〗

〖Pairing: Emily x sick R〗

〖Notes: I'm so glad that reached you! And so so sorry about my accidental deletion, I truly don't know what happened there. I sincerely hope this makes up for it <3〗

“Hey love,” Emily murmured, appearing in the doorway as if she’d teleported there. You hadn’t heard her walk up, though you couldn't hear much through your clogged ears. You set your pen down and wiped your nose on your sleeve, too tired to care about how gross it was. The world was sort of hazy, your mind cloudy. 

Writing up case reports was probably not the best idea considering your current mental state but you remembered enough to feel confident that you could go over notes with JJ to get the full story. 

The media liaison would likely be okay if you just dropped the papers on her desk, she had already checked in on you twice and tried to force you to take some medicine. When you refused she’d settled for leaving a cup of tea on your desk. You drank a little bit but forgot and let it get cold, cold tea wasn’t appetizing. 

“Hi Em.” You croaked, the words grating across your throat. Swallowing was already painful enough but talking seemed impossible. Emily walked into your office and leaned against the side of your desk, looking down at the papers that you were scribbling on. She frowned at the illegible writing, trying to make out even the simplest words. You typically had great penmanship, rivaling even Hotch’s, but this was bad.

“Is it safe to assume you aren’t feeling very well?” She put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed gently, concerned that she could feel the heat through your shit. It was a light shirt, but still, she shouldn’t be able to feel your fever through a layer of fabric. 

“I’m fine, just tired. Long week.” You were trying to use as few words as possible while still speaking somewhat normally but with the way your voice sounded, it didn’t matter. Nothing could save you from the reality that you weren’t going to win this fight. The last thing you wanted to do was leave work unfinished to pile up, but Emily didn't look like she was letting you get away that easily.

“Hmm, long weeks don’t usually make me sound like I gargled knives for fun. And you feel pretty warm. And your nose is running.” If she kept listing off things you were doomed. You wiped your nose on your sleeve again and sniffled, not removing your eyes from the papers. It was getting harder and harder to focus, everything was so blurry, and your head felt so groggy. 

“I‘m not sick.” You protested, swiping a hand across your eyes in a useless attempt to clear your vision. You refused to accept that you were just lightheaded and no amount of blinking or rubbing your eyes could fix that. Emily sighed and laid her palm on your forehead, making a face at what she felt. 

“I think your fever would beg to differ. You aren’t getting much done here anyway. I can’t read any of that.” She gestured to your sloppily written paperwork, not bothering to sugarcoat it. She’d had enough experience trying to reason with you that she knew you responded better to directness than to dancing around a subject.

You frowned down at your desk and coughed into your fist, your lungs protesting the extra effort they were being forced to use. Emily put a steadying hand on your back, providing support as you choked on whatever your body decided it needed to hack up. 

 When you were finally finished you looked up at her to find dark brown eyes staring back, filled with concern. 

 “Please, you need to rest. You’re so pale, you look like a ghost. I don’t want you to pass out here.” She caressed your cheek, leaving her palm there as an extra show of her love for you. She wasn’t always the best at offering comfort, she had trouble figuring out how to, but this she could handle. There was an easy fix to being sick and she was more than willing to take care of you through it. 

 “What about-” 

 “I’ll take care of it. Let Emily take you home, I’ve seen corpses that look more alive than you.” JJ’s voice startled you, making you jump a little in your seat. God everyone was just popping up out of nowhere, maybe you were worse off than you thought. Emily smiled at the media liaison and wrapped an arm around your shoulders in a loose hug. 

 “Come on love. Let’s go home. I’ll help you walk.” 

 “I don’t need help walking.” You protested as she lifted you from your chair, proving that you not only needed help walking but you couldn't stand on your own. After taking a few wobbly steps under the concerned gaze of JJ, Emily picked you up deciding that it would be the easiest way to get you to the car in a timely manner. 

 You whined but settled into her arms, relieved by the warmth of her touch. She was warm and soft and strong enough to carry you easily. You pressed your face into the crook of her neck and closed your eyes to protect against the harsh light of the bullpen. 

 “Feel better hun,” JJ said softly, squeezing your arm on your way out. You tried to nod but your head was too heavy. You were practically asleep by the time Emily reached the parking lot, but you didn’t mind. Though you would never admit it you were eternally glad that Emily had shown up when she did, any longer and you were confident you would’ve fallen asleep at your desk. 

#sickfic #fanfiction #sick fanfiction #fever #sick reader #sick fanfic #caretaking #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds sickfic #criminal minds #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x reader #jennifer jareau #sick you #sick fic

[silky-nereid]

— i don’t know why i bite

tw : manipulative behavior, minor injuries, dead things as an gifts, major injuries, barn and farm inaccuracies, implied death.

yandere!caretaker x monster!reader/you

Yandere! Caretaker who lives on a farm and harvested a couple of corn cobs for side dishes and notices a trail of blood in their barn.

Yandere! Caretaker who finds you injured curled up in the hayloft, surrounded by hay and manages to catch you despite your claws scratching them and biting them.

Yandere! Caretaker who immediately puts you in a metal tub to wash you and tries to put a muzzle on you to stop you from biting them.

“Watch it!” They grumbled. “I’m trying to help you.”

Rolling up their flannel patterned sleeves, holding a simple hose and different types of shampoo bottles to see which one would work better.

They filled up the metal tub but you had other plans and scurried out of the tub. Trembling and immediately curled up in a ball, your clawed hands still desperately tried to tear off the muzzle.

Yandere! Caretaker who still searches up methods to gain your trust and carefully dressed your wounds.

Yandere! Caretaker who buys equipment to take off the matted fur/matted feathers if you weren’t able to preen them due to your state.

Yandere! Caretaker who tries to figure out what type of food that you’ll eat and makes sure that you get daily meals.

Your face had been buried in the fresh bowl of meals rather than leisurely being sprawled in the hayloft surrounded in a bed of hay. You finished eating and dug your nails in the wooden poles climbing up into the hayloft, blood filled your mouth and hearing the familiar boots hitting the gray concrete.

They watched you climb down and saw the blood dribbling down your skin which immediately caused them to pace towards you with a first aid kit. A dead rat was spat out from your mouth onto the concrete floor.

“You got me worried.” They wiped the blood from your mouth. “Don’t scare me like that. Is this a gift for me?”

The corners of their lips formed into a smile when you purred/chirped in response as you climbed up the wooden poles to the hayloft and buried yourself in the hay.

Yandere! Caretaker who ‘upgraded’ your living space from the barn to their farmhouse and has to bandage up their own injuries but they weren’t as deep now; progress.

Yandere! Caretaker who increasingly grows protective of you after you curled up next to them and they noticed a collar around your neck that they somehow hadn’t seen before.

Yandere! Caretaker who begrudgingly contacts the number on the back of the collar after doubt sets in as they look at you, somehow sleeping on the tiny couch and immediately hangs up after a single hello from the other line.

Yandere! Caretaker who throws away the collar and goes back to the couch where you’re still sprawled on and slowly wakes you up to treat the infection from the collar.

Your claws scratched the doorframe of upstairs, hanging upside down and occasionally gnawing on the top of the frame.

“Get down from there. You’ll get hurt,” they said. “Your breakfast is almost done.”

They knew that noise of you climbing down the doorframe and still struggling down the stairs. Hearing the knock on the spring door and leaving the pan on the counter to see a well dressed duo on the other side of the door, they walked to the spring door and took one foot out.

“Can I help you two?” They asked.

“You have what’s ours,”one said. “It escaped and we tracked it down here. Hand it over and we will be on our way.”

“You must be in the wrong place.” They crossed their arms. “You both should go back on your way and leave.”

A familiar purr/chirp echoed throughout the silent farmhouse that made their heart drop.

Yandere! Caretaker who isn’t afraid of getting their hands dirty if it means to protect you and finds your trembling form poorly hidden and tries desperately to calm you down because they hate to see you in pain.

Yandere! Caretaker who slowly spoils you to make it up for the bloodshed but you seem to refuse every time which slowly chips away at them; were you starting to be ungrateful?

Your gaze stuck on the outside, bright blue sky rather than the stuffy farmhouse that seemed to grow smaller and smaller with each day that passed. Perhaps they would like a gift for a farewell? You left a small mouse on the counter, it didn’t move as it just lied on its side.

The fresh breeze against the clean body and you started to move further and further away from the farmhouse. It bloomed with a unrecognizable sting as it wasn’t the familiar pain that always embedded itself into you but it was freeing; better than—

A loud ringing echoed throughout your head, guttural cries escaped your lips. Your face buried in the fresh grass, it hurt to breathe, a familiar scent came in. Through your blurred vision, you saw the intricate designs on the boots that belong to them, your claws desperately grabbed the lower pant leg but failed and grabbed the dirt instead.

“You’re hurt,” they said. “Let’s get you inside now. I’ll patch you up and you will be good as new.”

They meticulously moved you back inside and back onto the familiar comfort of the small couch yet the trembling continues throughout your body, desperately clinging to their warmth. Your face buried in their abdomen, a familiar soft purring/chirping escaped your mouth.

“I don’t know what I would do without you.” They cleaned the dirt from underneath your nails, wrapped and cleaned the wound on your back. “Stay here with me and I’ll care for you.”

#yandere oc x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #tw yandere #tw yancore #yandere oc x reader #yandere idea #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere prompt #yandere #they don’t have a name yet #yandere caretaker x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x monster #a literal monster #yande.re #tw implied death #tw injury #tw murder #yandere fic #yandere fanfiction

[goldenempyrean]

Making Amends

« Day 18: Making Up »

« Pairing: Lena Luthor x Reader »

« Notes: sorry this is a little late, I’ve been busy and just needed a little time to polish it up! I’ll fix the title in the morning ;) »

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙〘 Advent 2023 Masterlist! 〙

“Lena I don’t want to hear it!” You growled the words as your girlfriend tried to explain why she had been home so late. This wasn’t the first time it had happened. You knew how she struggled with communicating or losing track of her work sometimes but this was different. She had promised go be home on time. She had promised to share the evening together with you, like you’d planned. She had promised to make the anniversary of your relationship special.

It didn’t matter now anyway. The dinner you’d made sat untouched on the table, stone cold. You didn’t even want to hear her reasoning for being late. You already knew in at heart. She’d gotten caught up in her work and had simply forgotten. Thats how it always went.

In the tense silence that followed, Lena's eyes pleaded for understanding, but you couldn't bring yourself to soften. Frustration and disappointment lingered in the air, wrapping around both of you like an unwelcome shroud. As you stood there, the weight of unmet expectations pressed on your shoulders. The room felt like it was growing hotter. Getting smaller. Everything seemed to sway and swoon as your vision hazed in and you out of focus. You needed some fresh air and you needed it now.

You stormed out of the apartment, the door slamming shut behind you - not even bothering to grab a jacket. The cool night air hit your face, providing a momentary relief from the stifling tension inside. Your mind raced with a mix of anger, hurt, and confusion. As you walked the dimly lit streets, you found yourself at a nearby park, seeking solace under the stars. Looking up at the unknown was always something that relaxed you. The endless possibilities of space. At heart you knew it wasn’t Lena’s fault entirely. She’d come home exhausted just last week as a result of the stress work had been causing her but it just hurt when her work got in the way of your personal lives.

The distant rumble of thunder interrupted your thoughts, and as you looked up at the night sky, raindrops began to fall. The gentle drizzle soon turned into a steady rain, drenching you in seconds. The cool water on your face felt strangely soothing. It was a good kind of cold.

However even the rain seemed to turn on you as you shivered involuntarily and giving a reluctant sigh, you decided to finally head back home. The rain soaked through your clothes as you hurried back, each step feeling heavier than the last. By the time you reached your apartment, you were drenched and exhausted. The door creaked open, revealing the aftermath of your heated argument. It was quiet inside. Lena had most likely retreated to the bedroom into the bedroom. But you were unwilling to face the bedroom just yet, so instead you settled on the living room sofa. It wasn’t warm nor did you have a blanket but sneaking into the bedroom to grab a change of clothes wasn’t exactly something you were eager to do.

Instead you curled up on the sofa, trying to ignore the uncomfortable sensation of the wet clothes against your cold skin. Turning over you let your head fall onto one of the pillows and you shut your eyes, hoping to slip into a peaceful sleep.

The next morning, you awoke with a heavy head and a throat that felt like it had been scraped with sandpaper. The remnants of last night's argument lingered in your mind, but they were overshadowed by the unmistakable signs of an impending illness. Stupid rain. Stupid cold. Stupid lack of a jacket! With a groan, you dragged yourself out of the makeshift bed on the sofa, your body protesting every movement as forced yourself to get dressed for work.

Despite the creeping heat of an uncoming fever seeping through your body, you trudged into the DEO, determined to fulfill your responsibilities as a agent there.

Colleagues shot concerned glances your way, but you brushed them off with a forced smile. The familiar hum of the high-tech agency felt louder than usual, pounding against your throbbing head.

As you attempted to focus on your tasks, the overhead intercom crackled to life. "Agent Y/L/N, report to Director Danvers' office immediately," the stern voice echoed through the facility causing you to grumble in annoyance as you pushed yourself up stumbled towards Alex's office.

Upon entering, you found yourself friend sitting at her drsk, concern etched across her face. "You look terrible," she remarked, her voice a mix of sympathy and scolding. "I've already called Lena. She'll pick you up. You need to go home and rest. You can’t work like this.”

“Ale-“ You couldn’t even begin to sigh her name before you were interrupted with a rough throat scraping cough, “Why did you-“

She raised a stern eyebrow before pulling a bottle of water out from her drawer and sliding it over the desk towards you, “That’s exactly why. I’m not just telling you this as your boss but as your friend. You’re sick. You need to go home. This is not an option.” You knew Alex’s stern voice and this was definitely it. There really was no point arguing with her, she was the director after all.

Lena didn’t take long to arrive. Less than 10 minutes which was very impressive given the traffic at this hour. All it took was one look at you sitting slumped in Alex’s office, your exhausted drooping eyes looking up at her as a box of tissues sat open in your lap to make her heart melt.

Your girlfriend was by your side in an instant, concern etched across her face. "How did this happen?" She crouched down, brushing a gentle hand over your forehead, her keen eyes not missing the subtle way you tensed beneath her touch.

The weight of the previous night's argument lingered in the air, but the genuine worry in Lena's expression softened the edges of the tension between you. She spoke with a gentle tone, "You should have told me you weren't feeling well, darling. I hate seeing you like this."

You managed a weak smile, appreciating Lena's concern despite the strained circumstances. "I didn't want to bother you. Besides, we had enough on our plates with everything - last night - already."

Lena shook her head, her fingers brushing through your hair comfortingly. "You're never a bother to me. We're in this together, remember?" She glanced up at Alex, who had been pretending to make herself busy in order to not intrude on your conversation, "I'll take her home, Thanks for looking out for her."

Alex nodded, her stern facade softening. "Always. Now you two ake care of each other. And Y/N, don't come back until you're fully recovered. That’s an order. I’ll come round tomorrow to check in if you’re feeling up to it.” She smiled over at you.

Lena helped you up, offering a supportive arm as you made your way out of the DEO. The car ride home was quiet at first, both of you lost in your thoughts. Lena finally spoke, breaking the silence, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I know I messed up last night, and I should have been there for you."

You sighed, leaning your head against the car window. The cool glass working wonders to soothe your pounding temples. “I overreacted, Lena. It wasn't just about last night. It's this constant struggle with your work taking precedence over us. I miss us, Lena, and I just want to find a balance." You sniffled.

Lena's grip on the steering wheel tightened, and she took a deep breath. "I promise, Y/N, I'll make it up to you. We'll figure this out together. I love you, and I don't want us to keep hurting each other like this."

As she parked the car, you both sat in almost silence for a moment. The rain from the previous night was still pattering down, drumming against the windows as it filled the car with its steady thrum. Lena turned to you, her eyes sincere, "Let's take care of you first. We can talk about this more later, okay? You’re the most important thing to me right now and right now what you need to be is looked after. So that’s what I’m going to do.”

〖 Join My Taglist! 〗 @natashamaximoff69 @lovelyy-moonlight @santana1437 @kljhsong @inluvwithfictionalwomen @shamelessbearunknown @kathleenmikaelson @bloomingflowersthings @observeowl @scrambled-brain-eggs @natashamyl0ve @somber-sapphic @lexasaurs634 @nayarianna1302 @itsarandomblog @scarlettssub  @villaneve4life @demonicbaby666 @wandanats-goodgirl @nuianced-tck-enby @maomaoincomming @anne-lister 

#lena luthor #lena luthor x reader #lena luthor x y/n #lena luthor x fem!reader #lena luthor x you #lena luthor imagine #supergirl #lena luthor whump #lena luthor sickfic #lena luthor angst #lena luthor fluff #fluff #comfort #caretaking #angst #whump #supergirl sickfic #empyrean's advent 2023

[bloomingflowersthings]

Sick of your attitude: part two

part one

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Sick! Reader, Eventual Wandanat!!

Author’s note: Hello guys!! Finally got the part two completed so I hope you guys enjoy it!! My requests are open so feel free to send in your ideas!! <3

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As much as Wanda was trying to sleep in for once, she couldn’t relax because someone was thinking loudly. She’d tried to ignore it but it was becoming unbearable, she would have to find the source of the loud thoughts.

Walking through the compound, the noise was becoming louder and louder until she reached the source: Natasha’s bedroom.

Despite being mad at the way the widow had treated you the previous day, she could tell that Nat was in distress, so she knocked the door waiting for a response.

After knocking a few times, Wanda decided to open the door to the redhead’s room, they were pretty good friends after all so it wouldn’t be absurd.

“Nat?” She asked, looking for signs of her friend.

Then she noticed a lump on the bed. It was Natasha. She was tossing and turning in her sleep, clearly dealing with the effects of a nightmare.

With a swift of her hands, the witch made Natasha wake up, gasping for air and with tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Bad dreams?” Wanda asked as she sat at the edge of the bed.

Natasha flew on the brunette’s arms, holding her tightly.

As the redhead cried, the memories from the previous day entered Wanda’s mind, telling her everything she needed to know, especially the spell that Nat had been trapped in.

“Shh, it’s okay, I understand now.” Wanda said, calming down the crying spy.

“I didn’t mean to be rude to her, I’m the worst girlfriend ever.” She said, sobbing.

“No, you were under a spell, none of that was really you, okay?”

“Do you think she’ll forgive me?”

“I’m sure she will, let’s check on her.”

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

When the girls got to your room, the first thing they noticed was the heat coming from you. You were curled under several layers of blankets, a desperate attempt at getting warm. Little did you knew that you were warm, scorching with a fever.

“Wands, she’s too hot…” Natasha said, caressing your sweaty hair as the brunette got the blankets away from you and went into the bathroom searching for a thermometer.

In your hazy state, you couldn’t tell if they were actually there, so you squeezed Nat’s hand to see if she was real.

She noticed it and turned her attention to you.

“Hi, my love…”

“Please don’t talk to me.” You said, turning away from her as you got the urge to cry.

“I’m so sorry about being a bitch to you, it wasn’t my intention…” The redhead said, with tears filling her eyes.

“You don’t need to pretend that you care, y’know?” You said, sadness slipping into your words.

“Of course I care about you, Y/N, I love you!”

“Leave me alone, please.” You said weakly, avoiding her gaze.

As Wanda came back with the device in hand, she used her magic to put you in a peaceful slumber, to avoid stressing you out.

“Nat, I can help you explain the whole situation, but now we have to sort out this fever.” Wanda said as she managed to hold the thermometer under in your mouth, reading it when it beeped.

“39.6, we have to get her to the shower.”

As your girlfriend picked you up bridal style and made her way to the bathroom , she glanced at you, noticing the state that you were in.

“It’s all my fault, I should have taken care of her.” Natasha said, tightening her hold on you.

“Hey, we know it wasn’t your intention. You could never be like that and we know this, she’s going to understand that but now we need to break that fever.” The witch said, squeezing Nat’s shoulder lightly.

They both got under the cold water with you, as you were practically dead weight. As your temperature lowered, you got more conscious of your surroundings and were able to stand up with their help.

The girls got dried and dressed (with your clothes) and Natasha was getting you dressed while Wanda changed your sheets.

You were still silent due to your delirious state, and Nat whispered sweet nothings to you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this sick…” She said while untangling your hair. You just hummed in response, lacking the energy to answer properly.

“Come on, let’s get her back to bed.” Wanda said, helping Nat support you.

As they tucked you in, you got caught in a congested sounding coughing fit, and the brunette winced at the sound.

“You sound worst than earlier…” She said, pouring a dose of medicine, which you took without complaints.

They retook your temperature, in hopes that you were out of danger.

“38.2, far from ideal, but better than earlier.” Natasha said.

“I’m going to bring her some soup.” Wanda said as she left the room.

“I’m sorry…” You said weakly at your girlfriend.

“Baby, You don’t need to apologize for feeling unwell. I’m the one who has to apologize. Y/N, I was really mean to you and it wasn’t my intention, I need you to know that it wasn’t me, I’m going to explain it to you once you’re better, okay?”

You nodded and smiled shyly at the redhead, feeling the truth behind her words.

Wanda got back with your soup, and the girls spoon fed you, saying kind words of encouragement throughout the process.

As you finished, Natasha gave Wanda a tight hug, feeling grateful for everything.

“No need to thank me, I’d do anything for you guys.” The brunette said, blushing.

“Wands, will you lay down with us?” You asked weakly, wanting to be in the presence of both women.

She looked at Natasha for approval.

“Please Wanda, can you stay with us?” Natasha said, holding the witch’s hand.

“Yes, I’d love to.”

And you spent the next few days resting with double the cuddles, until you were fully healed.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @natashamyl0ve @whatamidoinghere777 @wandanatslittle @fishlikestuff @wifeofnatasharomanoff @natsxwife @natsarrownecklace @cylyonsblog @aliherreraa @snowdrop1026 @kksalexa @alianovnasposts @takeyaki @goldenempyrean @somber-sapphic @thewidowintheweb

#flofics #caretaking #sick reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x sick reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #sickfic #wandanat sickfic #wandanat #wandanat x reader #wandanat x sick reader #wandanat x y/n

[anlian-aishang]

He could feel you staring. And indeed, you were. God, you sighed to yourself, he was so fucking beautiful.

tags: levi x reader, angst, smut, hurt-comfort, gun mention, injury descriptions, self-sacrificial thoughts, caretaking, insecurity [felt by levi], body worship, canonverse, fem!reader.

word count: 5400

It was a miracle you found them, even more miraculous that Hange did not snipe you first. Over the barrel of the gun, their hazel eyes ran bloodshot. A murderous, fight-or-flight fear you had never seen on the commander’s face. If not for the moonlight that outlined your surrendering hands, surely, you would have joined the two corpses on the ground between you both. 

“Hange!!” Your frantic scream scared sleeping birds off their branches. Flaps of their wings matched the spasms in your nerves. “It’s me!”

Your ears picked up the graze of metal as their finger twitched along the trigger. Eyes focused in to meet theirs in promise. Your jaw fell further, not at the proximity between you and death, but at the single tear that slid down their cheek. Trauma spilling over Hange’s bright and bubbly facade. 

They lowered the rifle with a sigh, one you could see in the thick white cloud of their breath. With an exhausted exhale, beneath their hood, they offered.

“Do you want to see him?”

// // //

Hange walked slower than you would have liked. On the other hand, they probably thought you were going too fast. They had not had the time to blink, let alone sleep, in days. It was what you reminded yourself as you dampened your pace for their sake, the sedative to your aching legs, yearning to sprint to him. 

They made intentional small talk, asking how your intelligence missions were going - wondering if you had a good grasp on what the Yeagerists were up to. Of course, it was all pointless now. Obviously, Floch and his faction had succeeded. The end of the world had already started. 

The commander could tell, and you knew that they could. They would not ask you such blatantly meaningless questions, unless there was something to hide. 

“Hange,” your voice was deathly low, “just tell me.” Eye contact deliberately, mutually avoided. “How bad is it?”

Another heavy sigh. Twigs crunched beneath boots. A silence that felt like forever, that almost spoke for itself. Hange looked to the starry sky above, and for a moment, your heart sank. Is he…?!

Hange shot you a smirk, pained but genuine. “He’s a tough lil guy, isn’t he?”

He’s alive. 

“Anyone else would be sauteed to bits, and to be honest -” Hange parsed, “- I still can’t figure out how he made it.” 

Sauteed. Fire? Bits. An explosion? 

“I can only think -” they gave a loose tug of their hair tie, “- it’s because he’s an Ackerman.”

You had not put it all together, but the bloodstained patch of grass, the worn handle with lone fingers attached, the bodies of former comrades rotting outside - all the traces you tracked along your journey here painted an awfully vivid picture. Through those tiny details, you constructed the larger story. Levi had been targeted, and if not for Hange’s intervention, your partner would have been murdered by either Zeke’s or the Yeagerists’ hands.

Yet, in the commander, you could sense a tremendous guilt. Blinded by Levi’s current critical condition, or perhaps the recent killings of their subordinates, they saw themselves as no hero. Finally, you recognized why Hange was slugging along: a delay. Conscious or not. Procrastinating the revelation of the new Levi to his old lover. 

While they wallowed in their own failures, you only saw their successes. Each trudge of their steps against the earth felt heavy, you longed to lighten them, to have Hange see themselves as the savior they were.  

“No, Hange.” A gentle hand to their back. They startled, then soothed, at your touch. “It’s because of you.” 

With hesitation, they finally met your gaze. Their skin a staunch pale even in this pitch black night. A stark frown, regrets within. And Levi would not have liked that.

“He’s alive, not because of his last name, but because of you.” Your delicate touch morphed to a fierce grip, shaking them. “Hange, please,” clenched teeth, quivering lip, “you know that, right?”

Certainly, they were smart enough to know that.

Hange pushed a single finger to their glasses, “Y…Yeah.”

“Hange.” Your smile was both sincere and serious. You clutched their hand with both of yours and squeezed, “Thank you.”

They cleared their throat and swallowed, an awkward, guilty laugh. “Maybe you should save your thanks until you see him.”

// // //

Nauseous with both fright and excitement. Anxious as you anticipated touching him, counterbalanced with the fear of causing him further pain. Relief as you watched his chest rise and fall. Disheartened at how labored those breaths were. The emotions you felt at his sight, all but indescribable.

Considerate as you always were - even to your own detriment - it was what everyone loved about you, especially him. Knowing how defeated Hange felt, and in the wake of all the reassurance you had provided them on your walk, you knew all your comforting efforts would have been dismantled if you started to break down. Subduing yourself, you clenched fists at your sides and dug your nails into your palms. Trembling lip dipped beneath your teeth, biting down to still. Toes curled within your leather boots, stabling yourself as knees began to buckle. 

Witnessing your reunion, emotions were contagious to Hange. They artificially lifted their voice and offered instructions - a thin veil of distraction. “Well!” Hange gleamed, “He’s been out for a couple hours now, ever since Eren's… well, you know.”

That was one way to put it.

“I really have no idea when he’ll wake up, but he will.” Hange promised. “If he doesn’t get up on his own, you may have to help him. Bandages need changing in a few.”

Bandages? You had yet to notice until then. Upon entering the camp, you froze the moment you saw him. At that distance, he was just a bundle of blankets. You brought your sleeve to your eyes and wiped away the blur, and only then did you see the gauze that engulfed his face. 

Another pang of nausea. Mouth gaped to sob. You threw your forearm over it. A contrived cough to conceal your reaction, it failed. 

Behind you, Hange frowned. This time, it was their turn to cup your shoulder in their hand. In your peripheral vision, they pointed to a decorated tree stump. “When you do, make sure to clean his wounds first.” Atop the makeshift table, an even more crude construction was this mobile infirmary. Missing even the bare minimums of battlefield first-aid. More horrific than not: black thread, long needle. Thin vial of clear liquid was significantly less than full. Its alcoholic sting, you swore you could smell it from here. The thought of pouring that shit on him made your stomach flip again. 

“If you didn’t come, I was going to have to do it,” they chuckled this time, instead of severity, Hange used a lighthearted approach to comfort you, “but I’m sure he’ll be more receptive to you putting him through pain! It seems you’ve got the magic touch.”

If Levi was awake, oh - a swift ass-beating that would’ve been, but you were much more merciful, happy to share a harmony in crude humor. A moment of blissful ignorance in an ignorant, humorless world. Your smile widened to a grin and you tossed a playful shoo, “Get out of here, you.” 

You had not expected them to take you seriously. Hange smiled contentedly, turned on their heel, and strode even deeper into unexplored forest. A dramatic shift in mood as you swerved from joking to panicking, “Wait - where are - what are - where are you going?” 

Hange shrugged their shoulders, palms turned up to the sky. No slow in their pace, not even a glance back to you as they called, “Can’t save the world on no sleep!” 

As their figure grew tinier, your jaw that had fallen open gradually began to close. Their footsteps faded away, from faint to silent. Whether they eventually flopped from fatigue or continued their stride, you never found out for sure. You saw how exhausted they were, mentally and physically. At the same time, you could only imagine the pressure and responsibility they must have felt. Insomnia or collapse? Likely a coin flip. 

And just like that, the two of you were alone. 

// // //

Survivor’s guilt, you were familiar with. After this long in the Scouts, among those you knew, those who had experienced it outnumbered those who had not. You yourself had lost count of your diagnoses. 

But what the fuck was this? 

He had not died. He wouldn’t die, that’s what Hange said. You had not taken your eyes off him, not for one moment, and his breaths were as recognizable as your own. Undeniably alive, so why were you grieving? 

Perhaps it was regret. Without him there to talk you out of it, you wondered why you shouldn’t feel any and spiraled into its acupuncture. If only you had been at the right place at the right time - there were so many chances to stop it! You could have overheard any conversation about the wine and warned him: stay the hardass captain, the wine’s dangerous! More intelligence about Zeke could’ve shown you how reckless he was, and if you had communicated that to Levi, he would’ve known better than to bring thunder spears anywhere near him. Fuck, even if you had just been there! Maybe you could have thrown yourself between Levi and the explosion. Better me than him.

Your hand snapped to your head and seized a punishing pull of your hair. You knew better than to think such thoughts. Not even for your own sake, but for his: he wouldn’t want you to feel that way!

It was disrespectful to him, and let us respect the wishes of the dead. 

You fucking idiot, he’s not dead! 

Angst of this intensity, at any other time, you would scream, throw things, thrash about. But with your insomniac sound asleep beside you, you would not even allow yourself that release. All you could do was mewl silently, rip grass from the ground, and hug your knees to your pitted chest. 

That lasted a couple hours, and it may have even longer, but the chill hit you like an early winter. Goosebumps had pricked your skin, chattering teeth had become audible. And if you were cold - he must be freezing. 

Selfish. Selfish! You chastised yourself as you stood from your stone turned seat. Seemed like there was some spare wood from whatever Hange’s latest project was, you set it gently atop the fire, cringed when it collapsed with a series of clatters. You winced and checked on Levi. Still sound asleep. The last two logs, you set them on the side closest to him, simultaneously the least and most you could do to keep him warm. 

But was it?

He looked so tiny on the forest floor so vast. So lonely on that slate of tarp. The crickets began to chirp: there’s room for you, too. 

Still, you stood there debating. Weighing internally: better to lay beside him or leave him be? You did not want to wake him, for he appeared to be in a semi-comfortable peace. At the same time, each time he shivered, you felt your veins run cold with responsiblity. Not doing a very good job at the whole caretaking, significant other task. 

Nature made the choice for you. A merciless gust of wind hissed through the trees, breaking branches along the way. Acorns and twigs tumbled to the ground with the gravity of heavy hail. Icy was its howl, providing only seconds of warning before the sharp drop in temperature. Almost immediately, the captain whimpered himself awake and bunched the blanket to his body. Even faster, your sprint to his side. 

Like a survivor to a raft, a plant to spring rain, that was how you clutched him. “Levi…” you soothed, “Levi, it’s me.”

Trying to open his eyes, eye, induced a splitting headache. Thankfully, his hearing had recovered from the piercing explosion and was able to recognize: it was you. Throat scathed dry, Levi failed to summon a response. The apple of his neck twitched in his attempt at a swallow. Water. 

In the pocket of your cape, a full canteen, “Thirsty?”

A subtle nod was all he could muster. Mouth sealed off, streaks of red tainted the white gauze, you supposed it was time. Time to strip off his bandages, to see him again, to learn what had happened. 

Hange had debriefed you. There was no need to ask. His pupil was a lens through which you could see it all. The disbelief still raw, the disappointment in himself, the trauma glazed over. Curiosity screamed within you, longing to know everything from the tiniest details to the major events. Louder, though, was your urge to tend to him - and you knew that an interrogation was not the right remedy. 

There was something more subtle, and perhaps even more telling than words.

“Levi, let me see.”

Hesitation.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

Normally, he would slip in a snide remark. His own take on a joke. Tonight, it wasn’t there. 

But you were right, it was time. He felt disgusting. Gauze glued to his face - blood and sweat - the neat freak squirmed. The cool air of a wilderness night and spring water down his throat sounded most refreshing. 

Refreshing - like the new perspective you would have of him. Levi had not seen himself yet, but based on the immense pain he felt, his face of all places, he knew it couldn’t be pretty. In that way, perhaps it would have been easier if it was Hange. He didn’t care what anyone thought of him, but you were the only exception. You alone could scare him, the fear of how you would react to your lover turned monster. 

Slowly, you reached to your hip and unsheathed your dagger. Trustworthy eye contact silently conveyed that you would cut him free. Levi answered with a slow blink, an attempt at a smile, an attempt that was quickly retracted by his newly irritated nerves. They screamed at him for it, he subdued them by digging his nails - all eight of them - into his palms. With a mere fraction of his face visible, your ever stoic Levi looked even more so. His mouth completely covered, you misread his response. Your first hint towards a long road of recovery ahead, your relationship forever altered.

You crawled behind him and aligned your arm with his spine, “Can you sit up for me?” Like a true combat nurse, you did not wait for an answer before getting to work. Slow but sturdy, you lifted him just enough so that you could get to his nape. Though your care was tender, his reaction was harsh: sharp hisses and exasperated groans. It saddened you, how these strained grunts no longer frightened you - you had heard so much worse from both him and others. 

At the tail of his undercut, you pinched Hange’s knot and lifted the ties from his scalp. An inch of space, you slipped the point of your blade between them. New breeze on his most sensitive spot, knife at the back of his neck, Levi shuddered in your arms. 

“Don’t worry,” you rubbed your palm against his shoulder, “I’ve got you. I won’t hurt you.” I won’t let you get hurt anymore. 

One swift swipe! You slit the gauze, almost like pulling a zipper. Hand on his thigh, you pivoted to his front. Left hand was both hasty and soft, pulling the wrapping from the top of his head all the way past his chin. 

The mask was off. 

With his face now unveiled, you withdrew a handful of inches. A habitual up and down to evaluate his state, just like he trained you. 

The irises that snared you, there was now only one of them. Fresh stitches. Unforgiving black pierced his ivory skin. Crimson blood between the threads. A red so raw, you knew it was never meant to be seen. 

Your throat tightened, the words retched out. “It’s not -” you swallowed, “- that bad…”

A bad liar, you always were. Adorable at other times, gut-wrenching now. You had totally frozen, and all he could do was blink helplessly in wait for you to accept him. In those few seconds, voices in his head made a thousand comparisons. Uglier than a titan. More jarring than a corpse. All the shit you’ve seen, and you’ve never reacted like this. As your eyes glassed over, his reflection became even clearer to himself, confirmed his fears: hideous, he was hideous. 

Even though you stared, you gawked, he could not blame you. In fact, blaming you was his furthest thought, far beyond his first: blaming himself.

“I’m sorry.” Levi whispered. “I’m sorry.”

No. I’m sorry. Again, you ran through all the ways you could have prevented this. If only you had spied better. If only you had been there! He had absolutely nothing to be sorry for.

“I really…” Levi sniffed, his voice raspy, “I screwed up.” A single, silent tear rolled down his cheek. Then another, and another. “...stupid, fucking stupid.”

Seeing him cry always made you do the same. This time, though, your typical techniques left you. This Levi was unrecognizable, not just his physicality, but his personality as well. Even after the bloodiest expeditions, you had never seen such defeat in him before. 

Levi barred his teeth, blood had pooled in his lower lip and leveled with the rim. As tears spilled into open wounds, stinging relentlessly, he did not even flinch, for he felt he deserved it. Not just because he had put himself in that lethal situation, but because he had killed his former self - the only version of him anyone had ever loved - your soulmate.

“Levi…” your fingers ran down his chest, extra delicate this time. Beneath your touch - its insinuation familiar - his heart fluttered, “you deserve to feel good.”

Despite your kindling fire, Levi remained cold at your contact and stayed startlingly still. He couldn’t even meet your eye contact, instead, choosing to stare straight down at your knees, as if needing to absorb and accept that you were actually knelt before him. 

His words wavered, but his voice was a constant low. Hardly audible. Deeply depressed. “You… still want me?” 

Instant, unfathomable heartbreak. Chills, widened eyes, and a ringing in your ears, disbelief at what you had just heard. Against his chest, your fingertips dwindled. Overwhelmed with pity, nevertheless, he still could not bear a glance towards you. 

“Levi,” you cupped his cheek, beckoning his gaze. Tilting your head, a smile both teasing and kindred, “don’t tell me you’ve got amnesia, too?”

He scowled - halfway between too soon and smitten admiration. Only you would dare test him at a time like this. 

“Cause it seems you’re forgetting all we’ve been through already.” 

In each other’s eyes, everything came flooding back. The death of his squad and the months of ensuing grief. The broken leg that held him back from the tower, Eren’s capture, and the rescue mission - the one that costed Erwin’s arm and many more their lives. The return to Shiganshina, even fewer - including the late commander - returned from. Tremendous weights both physical and emotional, you had always been there to shoulder them with him. This was just another one of those spells, and you were a veteran by this point. 

“Prim and proper without any problems… that’s not the you I’m used to.” Curled knuckles tucked stray locks neatly behind his ear. Nails scratched the cusp on the way, summoning shivers from the man beneath you. 

You took his hands in yours. Fingers intertwined, two were notably missing. No matter, you concentrated, determined to hide your adjustment to this new hold. 

“What I am used to, though, is the way you’ll recover - even stronger than before.” You tugged his hand to your lips and spoke gently, confidently against them, “You always have.”

Levi shook his head and grit through clenched teeth, “I don’t know if I’m coming back from this one, sweetheart.”

Indeed, the path forward was hard to see. His body had been torn to true shreds. The Ackerman bloodline was gifted, but they were human. Regeneration of his sight and his grasp were impossible. Humanity’s strongest soldier had been knocked down a permanent rung. 

Suddenly, you feared that the superlative title had done him more harm than good. Love was not something you measured, and his combat abilities meant nothing to you, least of all now. Who said he had to climb that particular ladder? Why must he be a Scout first and person second? Levi had embodied the hope of humanity - and you could not blame the population for placing their faith in him. However, you were not just another member of the population. And to you, Levi was far more than his labels. Foremost, he was alive and he was yours. 

He’s alive! He’s yours!

“For fuck’s sake, Levi…” tears fell, your smile rose, the words tumbled out, “all you have to do is breathe and that’s already enough.” Tenderly, you hooked your fingers over the seam of his blanket and tugged down. Shamelessly, your gaze swallowed him, relishing in his flushed chest and its heightened pulse, “and look at you, you’re already doing that.”

The end of the world, nearly the end of his life, but your tears were what broke him.

It started with a couple shakes of his head. Matted bangs fell over his features, but the shaking of his body and his crackling voice revealed all. Levi pulled his hand from your grasp and clutched his wrinkled forehead. Thumb ground his temple, a coping technique from childhood. A few deep breaths, after then, rattled and shaky: the telltale start to his breakdowns. 

Salted tears poured into his split lip. On instinct, your thumb seeped into his mouth, replacing the burn with your sweet taste. God, how he needed it. 

He needed it. He needed it. A painkiller, but not a pill. Warmth, but not a blanket. To be loved, adored, and made to feel useful, no matter what it was he could do. He could hardly talk, could not even sip water on his own. But there was one thing you knew he could do, one thing that would lift his spirits, if only the length of an endorphin release.

A smile both sweet and seductive, innocent and intimate. “You’re going to make me cum. I’m gonna make you feel good.” One hand on his stiffening lap. One hand on his cheek. “And I’ll show you that you can still do both.”

// // //

It was not the same, and you would not pretend that it was. Not worse, just different. Even better in some ways. 

Inexplicably adorable. Learning to work with his left hand, he would lift his right hand to your buttons only to halt halfway and switch to the other. Pure, flustered concentration as he learned to communicate with his non-dominant hand, the most intimate practice possible. In the glaze of moonlight, his red blush radiated. Internally, he cursed the buttons and belts of the Scout uniform. Externally, he released exasperated sighs and frustrated moans. Undressing you used to take seconds, but after many minutes, your shirt was only halfway undone. Despite his mental irritation, it seemed neither of you truly minded: your arousal stirred with anticipation, his pupils dilated as he savored every second - every inch of your skin. Sex taking longer, who would complain about that? 

Extra weak. Each of his movements was accompanied by shakes, emphasizing the efforts he put into making love to you. Twitches in his reawakening muscles kept his touch active, keeping things exciting. His vice grips of your skin had melted to grazes and dances. His squeezes no longer cut off your circulation, but coerced blood into every capillary. Entirely conscious, desperately yearning for more. You realized: it was not his strength that overcame you, but the craving that faint touch incited. Exerted grunts and curses under his breath were melody to the hum of mosquitoes and crackle of campfire. The most surprising setting to be spicing up your sex life. 

Hyper-sensitive. The strain embedded in every motion had unraveled him quickly. And then there was you. Licking his wounds, tracing your tongue along his scars, you had thrown him off the tightrope balance of pain and pleasure, leaving him to scream in freefall. Teeth grazed his jawline, drawing screeches that felt sinful to listen to, but that didn’t stop you. Lips on his navel drew back-breaking arches of his spine. Acute and uncontrollable rolls of his hips. Touch-starved. Love-deprived. The feeling of unworthiness made every bit of affection that much more treasured. Every touch, a lightning bolt. Each wake, a calm. Mini orgasms wherever, whenever you felt him. 

So conscious of his body, of his injuries, your diligent attention revealed perfections you never noticed before. Tendons in his arms cast contrasting shadows over his skin, they flexed with every sensation he felt and every one he provided. 

You had always assumed it was the color of his eyes that was so magnificent, and indeed it was a lovely shade, but it was his angular brows and straight lashes that highlighted them so beautifully. 

New appreciation for his muscles - not just eye candy, not just strength - but their persistence and importance in keeping him alive. Across his abdomen, seamless symmetry, pair after pair of ridges. Overstimulated sweat covered and complimented every curve, his own spotlight. 

Your goal was to kiss every inch of him, make love to every inch of him. Lips curled to meet his crevices, leaving saliva and praise all throughout your path. “You’re perfect, Levi.” Again, you were crying. Tears dripped to his skin, medicine. “Perfect.”

Having danced with death, Levi was also experiencing a new infatuation with you. After hours of seeing nothing but black, your body was a constellation to explore. He had lost some digits, but two were enough to run his fingers through your hair. Smooth skin invited his hands to savor you, further welcoming with your singing nerves and satisfied sighs. Likewise, after hearing nothing but silence, your whines and whispers moved mountains within him. When he felt so broken, so useless, you managed to lift him up. You tugged him free from his constraints and marveled at his livelihood. Long and admiring was your stare at his erection, forcing him to acknowledge the proof that one thing still worked. 

Labored was his attempt to sit up, to take hold of you, but you placed your palms to his pecs and pushed down, “Levi, it’s okay.” Leaning over, your breast met his chest as your lips fell beside his ear, drawing shudders as you cooed, “I’ll take care of you tonight.”

Mindfully, you reversed the roles: using him as a crutch, signaling his worth and aid to you. By your hold on his shoulders, you sturdied yourself as you lowered your sex down onto his lap. You were ready. Your bodies were ready. Anticipation clearly coated his cock from tip to base. Your folds yearned to be filled, drooling onto your thighs with hunger. 

The back of your hand grazed his forehead, brushing his bangs - slick with sweat - aside. Unbroken eye contact. Unbroken vows: to love each other in sickness and in health. You smiled, he nodded. You inhaled deeply. He exhaled shakily. Lowering yourself down, he pushed himself up as much as he could. Enveloping him. Within you. Together at last. 

In that moment, the separation nearly felt worth it. In the sea of your love, a current of sympathetic sadism. The strife of his injuries had strung him to his last wit, making the second he entered you that much more intense. Levi strained beneath you, immaculate curses fallen past his cracked lips. Bringing Levi to tears and to the brink of bliss, you were certain there was no bigger confidence boost, no greater incentive to fuck him with all you had.

But then, when you did, you realized the true motive: how he made you feel. 

Face scrunched with each rise and fall, fingernails threatened to pierce his skin. Clutching him, you stumbled through your words - breaks between your repetitions. “It - It feels… You feel…” 

Levi swore his heart could have exploded with tension over what you were going to say, that was until you uttered the words that made his heart stop, “so fucking good.”

On his face, relief. Within your walls, elation. “Y-Yeah?” Levi moaned, a combination of clarification and pleasure. “F’Feels… good?”

“Oh yes, baby…” So good, you couldn’t stop. So good, you lost yourself. His passion so lively, so blinding, you nearly forgot about his critical condition. Rolled back eyes snapped open, checking on him. You nearly halted your pace and panicked, “You doing okay?”

Canines bit his lip, but its sting was washed away in your presence, captivating. Squinted eyes, narrowed brows, Levi threw his hand over his mouth and muffled himself, nodding instead.

You smirked, too cute for his own good, that was how you usually reacted. Tonight, though, after all the loathing and depreciation you had both witnessed and felt, your vision was swayed. Lightly but deliberately, you pinched his wrist and lifted it above his head. “No need to hide, darling.” Tongue pried his lips open. “Let me see you. Let me hear you.”

Levi managed just a sliver, but that shred of his silver gaze was enough. “I - I’m f’fine!” He stressed. “I… promise.” 

You lowered one brow in dubious concern, but he insisted breathlessly. “Please…” he whimpered, “Please keep going!” 

Finally, you rolled your head back and sighed, he asked you for something. Something you could provide. Something you could fix for your lover so broken. With this goal in reach, you shared his desire for utility. Sex was survival, evolutionary, feral. The only thing that could make you fuck a patient senseless. The only thing that could make him forget his failures. The only thing that would heal both of you.

Oh, how he needed it. So hard against your soft insides. A length that reached for the stars. Warm passion mortared with yours, inciting smacks and screams that echoed for the voyeuristic pines. 

“P-Please…” Levi begged. Let me cum. Don’t leave me. Stay mine forever. He yearned to say everything, but with your tidaling sensation and his fogged mind, the most he could manage was just the one word. Louder and louder, “Please, (Y/N)...” until his own climax cut him off, “P-Plea - hah’Ahh!!”

Steep and rapid thrusts, you were made speechless - not only by the pleasure they brought within you, but by how impressive they were. So much about him had changed, and he had every reason to be lethargic, but the power he demonstrated had not faded. Your heart sang with admiration, humanity’s strongest for a reason. 

You hummed, unabashedly drinking up the symptoms of his release. Well familiar with his display, your hips knew just how to match the rhythm of his convulsions. Eventually, they slowed. Eventually, he was able to open his eye again. You saw his panic, the embarrassment, having finished first. When his seed hit your furthest depths and you seized around him, though, it was wordlessly communicated: he had no regrets, nothing to be sorry for, for his climax was what brought you to yours. 

Well, wordless in a sense. Your incoherent cries and broken syllables were of no lexicon, but a language he was fluent in. Eight fingers clutched your back, helping you through your last few rhythms, “Come on. Come on, I’ve got you.”

“Fuck!” You reveled. You were the luckiest person in the world. Even before the pillowtalk, in the midst of your orgasm, you could already see: no one else would mute their stinging nerves just to make you feel a bit better, no one else would prioritize your happiness over their own, no one else would share your tears in the same night they shared your bed. In this dying world, there was only one man alive who would love you as you did him. And he was yours.

All yours. 

masterlist

#levi #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman x you #oneshot #angst #smut #2023 #i poured my whole heart and soul and brain and caretaking knk into thi s so i hope you enjoy #anlian writes #my writing #alias's

[g1rld1ary]

hi baby !! 🧡

im sick rn and ive looked alllllll over and i couldnt find anything could you write a sickfic for luke from jatp where the female!reader gets sick ? reader is his girl 😽

im doing the same prompt on my blog because im so obsessed with the idea of sickfics and im such a luke girl

so you probably wont have much trouble figuring out who sent you this later if you look it up LMFAO 😍😍

pshsshssh thank you !! 🌼🌼

sick days ; luke patterson x fem!reader

➻ synopsis: you're not feeling well, but luke is here to look after you

➻ word count: 1905

➻ content: established relationship, implied aged up to early 20ish, pet names (love, baby, my girl), tooth rotting fluff

➻ obsessed with this request!!! i've never written a sickfic before so hope this is ok!! hope ur feeling better lovey xxxx

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Your body ached. That was the only thing you could feel. Actually, that was incorrect; you also had a headache and a snotty nose and you were pretty sure your temperature could boil water. In essence, you felt awful. You’d toughed it out for as long as you could, making yourself a steaming hot tea and cozying into the sofa for the night. It wasn’t making you feel any better. So, in a last ditch effort of saving your night, you dialled your boyfriend.

You smiled as his croaky, half-asleep voice came through your phone, murmuring your name.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” You asked, brows furrowed as you checked the time, gasping when it read 1:45am. You thought it was still closer to eleven.

“Don’t worry about it, couldn’t sleep anyway,” Luke lied and you frowned, though he couldn’t see it through the screen.

“No, it’s dumb. I’m sorry I woke you up. Night, Luke.” You moved to hang up when Luke interrupted you.

“Baby, wait! Clearly something’s bothering you. What’s up?” You smiled despite your discomfort, your boyfriend always boosting your mood without even trying.

“Nothing,” You pouted in your puddle of blankets, “Just feel sick.” You could feel Luke’s pity without him saying anything and weren’t sure whether to be indignant or grateful.

“Can you stay awake for twenty more minutes, love?”

“I guess so, why?” You asked, turning the TV back on as something to keep you from sleeping.

“I love you,” Was all he said, hanging up on you abruptly. You smiled softly to yourself, willing your eyes to stay open as you tried to focus on the sitcom in front of you.

You were just dozing off when you heard your apartment door unlocking and the brief shuffling of feet in the entryway. Your grin brightened, the familiar butterflies returning to your chest, even after months of being with Luke. The man in questioned approached you quietly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as you looked up at him.

“Luke, it’s 2 am, what are you doing here?” You asked despite the obvious answer, opening your shield of blankets for him to crawl onto the sofa with you. He made you wait, tipping out his reusable shopping bag onto the coffee table in front of you. There lay a pint of ice cream, tea bags, painkillers, and your favourite chocolate. Suddenly you weren’t sure if the heat on your face was fever or blush. Silently you held your arms out, and Luke dove into them with all the enthusiasm of a child, peppering your faces with all the kisses he could manage.

“Couldn’t let my girl be sick on her own,” He mumbled, nuzzling himself into the crook of your neck, eliciting a bout of giggles from you.

“My very own Prince Charming,” You grinned, pecking his temple. After a gratuitous moment of cuddling Luke peeled himself off you, taking on the role of concerned caretaker. He was quick to dart into the kitchen, turning the kettle on for your tea and grabbing a spoon for the ice cream he’d bought. Sitting himself in the vacant spot next to you he fixed his focus onto the TV.

“What are we watching?” He asked, pulling the lid off the ice cream tub for you.

“How I Met Your Mother, I’ve just reached season seven.” Luke gasped dramatically, holding his hands over his chest in faux outrage.

“You continued without me? How could you?” You laughed at his accusatory tone, shrugging your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Lukey. You have to forgive me though, I’m sick,” You punctuated the statement with a pathetic cough, smiling as Luke easily settled down.

You watched in silence for a bit, both giggling at the stupid jokes. After a while you felt Luke looking at you seriously, but chose not to think much of it, continuing to tune in to the show. When he pulled out a thermometer, you raised an eyebrow. Luke wasn’t usually one to be so prepared, but you let him rest it on your tongue nonetheless. When it read a concerningly high number Luke frowned, silently popping the painkillers out of their packaging, feeding you with the insistence of a fed up mother hen.

“Why aren’t you a nurse?” You joked, swallowing the medication with a mouthful of melted ice cream, “Rockstar be damned.”

“Only for you, love.”

“That’s not true, I’ve seen you fretting over Reggie,” You laughed, and Luke couldn’t help but join you.

“That’s fair. You’re my favourite, though.”

“How unexpected.” You craned your neck to press a kiss to his jaw, revelling in the dumb grin that crept onto his face.

You both settled into silence, you leant into Luke’s side, his hands rubbing soft circles into your thigh. You could feel yourself drifting in and out of sleep, never quite able to stay in it for one reason or another. The blanket was too hot, you were cold without it, your head hurt. Nothing was quite right and all you wanted to do was sleep for as long as humanly possible.

“Luke?” You whispered, in case he was already asleep.

“Yes, love?” He replied, shifting his position to look down at you. You faltered for a moment, overwhelmed with the pure adoration in his eyes.

“Will you play for me?” Luke was up in a second, arranging you on the sofa. You giggled as he manhandled you, lying you down and wrapping you tightly in your blanket so you couldn’t escape. You teased him about being his captive audience as he tuned his guitar quickly, never being so grateful for his perfect pitch.

Without anymore holdups Luke began to play, plucking softly at the strings to create a melody that filled the air of your little apartment. His playing was like a siren call, pressing weights on your eyelids until you could barely stand to keep them open. You watched him while you could, admiring the way the faint light from the kitchen lamp made him look like an Adonis, his hair illuminated in gold and his features accentuated by the shadows. You couldn’t believe he was your boyfriend. Luke Patterson, heartthrob of Julie and the Phantoms was your dorky, adoring boyfriend who would make supermarket trips in the middle of the night for you. Who had your favourite ice cream memorised and your key attached to his, so he could come see you whenever he missed you (which was pretty much always).

Despite the various aches and pains that had overtaken your body, the only thing you could feel as you drifted off to sleep was the burning ball of light in your chest, a chemical mixture of joy and love and gratitude, overtaking your senses one by one until you were asleep, dreams filled of beautiful images of your boyfriend.

When you woke up the next morning, you figured out it wasn’t morning at all. Luke had evidently switched off your phone’s alarm after you’d fallen asleep, and it was well into early afternoon when you’d arisen. To his credit though, the sleep had done you some good, and you felt much less like walking death after an intense sleep.

You untangled yourself from the knit blanket, your feet wobbly on the hard wood floors. You had serious post-nap daze, and wandered through your flat looking for your boyfriend. The poorly made sheets on your actual bed told you where Luke slept last night — or this morning, more accurately — you smiled at the way he’d arranged your stuffed animals.

Stuck to the fridge under your New York City magnet was a note from Luke, explaining he had to go to rehearsal but he’d be back later to check on you. You pulled the paper off, travelling back to your room to put the note in your ‘Luke’ box, adding to the collection of notes and drawings he’d given you inconsequentially that you’d held onto.

As the afternoon ticked by you’d gotten onto your computer, figuring that although you were still ill you should try and get something productive done. You were armed with your box of tissues as you got started on an assignment you had due at the end of the week, and slipped your headphones on to get into the headspace.

You screamed as a pair of arms wrapped around you from behind, quickly dissolving into giggles as you realised it was only Luke, back from rehearsal.

“Your voice still sounds scratchy, baby, how are you feeling?” He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Better, promise. Tomorrow I’ll probably go to class if I get another good night’s sleep.”

“That’s my girl.” He grinned, and you felt your insides melting all over again. You closed the laptop, knowing you weren’t going to get much more done now that Luke was with you.

You spent the evening together, ordering in pizza from the place around the corner and getting slightly wine drunk as Luke told you all about his earlier rehearsal and the antics of his band. He sang you part of the new song he and Julie had written and you applauded dramatically, only stopping when you broke into a coughing fit.

“Wanna watch something?” He asked when you grew tired again, cuddling up to him like a cat.

“Barbie?” You asked hopefully, looking up at him with wide eyes. Luke sighed dramatically, but you knew he was just pretending not to like the animated movies you’d grown up on.

“Only if it’s Island Princess,” He offered and you nodded enthusiastically.

The two of you settled in for the movie night, Luke getting much more into the movie as it went on, as he always did. By the end you were singing duets — your voice considerably less pleasing than his, especially due to your illness — Luke taking on the role of the prince letting you be Ro.

As the credits rolled you felt your eyes closing again, and you felt eerily like you did as a younger girl, falling asleep on the couch after a Barbie movie. This was better though, because now you had Luke next to you. He’d taken his role as big spoon extremely seriously, and had all but become one with the couch, pressing into the back as he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

You shifted your position to face him, watching his face relax into contentedness as he tried to doze off to sleep. Feeling you watch him he cracked one eye open, mouth producing a dumb grin that made butterflies erupt in your chest.

“What?” He asked, but you got the distinct impression he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Nothing,” You lied, but gave in easily, “You’re pretty.”

“You’re pretty too. Now go to sleep.” You nodded, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Kay, goodnight Lukey. I love you.”

“Love you too, my girl. So much.” His answer was muffled by him pressing his face into your hair to pull you closer, but you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face even as sleep enveloped you.

#giasfics˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ #love #fluff #julie and the phantoms #julie and the fat ones #jatp #jatp netflix #jatp fanfic #sunset curve #luke patterson #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson fic #luke patterson fanfiction #luke patterson x you #save julie and the phantoms #save jatp #sickfic #caretaking #charlie gillespie

[rainfallnightmare]

Chapter 1:

The problem

(Experiment Sun, Moon and Eclipse x Caretaker Y/n)

Genre: Slight angst to Fluff

Warning: Shocks, injuries and Swearing

word counts: 1578

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

June 19th, 2087

CBR

You were doing your report for today's work. 

It was a long day so you didn't mind it at first. That was until you heard a loud roar like scream from down the hall. Worried about what was happening, You stop and quickly enter the room where the noise was coming from. It was a horrible sight as one of the scientists was shocking the subjects Sun, Moon and Eclipse. This wasn’t the first time that these experimental subjects been torture by the scientists cause the government allows it.

You knew that if you didn't stop the scientists. They would have ended up killing poor creatures. Dangerous as they are, You happen to intervene in the process causing the scientists to almost shock you. “Are you fucking insane, what were you thinking?!” One of the male scientists as there were four of them around. Three of the scientists were holding long stun sticks to keep the subjects away from them in case they tried to attack. The fourth scientist was just writing stuff down on their clipboard as he was the one that yelled at me.

“Insane or not, you're gonna end up killing them if you don’t stop” I said while gritting my teeth in anger since these scientists don’t seem to give a damn about these subjects. I’m just a regular office worker/caretaker. I was assigned to take care of the three being behind me so they can stay healthy and alive tho they don’t trust humans one bit.

Subject 220 Sunlight or Sun in what I call them is an astral like creature with a solid form that could change into its ghost like form. Sun mostly had two colors on them which were yellowish or gold and white. Is like 10 ft tall and a bit shy when not being threatened.

Subject 221 ShadowMoon or Moon is Sun twin astral. Moon is the opposite of the Sun and likes to be in its astral form but when they are in their solid form. Moon has three colors which are black, blue and white. Again like Sun, Moon is also 10 ft tall but is more aggressive and will attack someone who is threatening to them.

Subject 222 EclipseRise or just Eclipse is one of the deadliest beings out of the three. Unless Sun and Moon, Eclipse astral being that is just fully solid and extremely hot to touch like the actual sun. Eclipse is a foot taller than Sun and moon, has red, orange and yellow with a little of black on its markings for its color. Eclipse is aggressive and very much not shy at all and would kill a person on the spot if they were threatened.

All four of the scientists glared at you before they just left you alone with the subjects. Letting out a sigh and carefully turning to see the three being behind ya. You could see the three were exhausted, in pain and hurt. You want to help them but with their current situation that was caused by the scientist. You know the most you could do is let them rest and keep an eye on them.

The three astral beings know you're not a threat to them since you were the only one that actually cares about their well being. Seeing that you nearly got shocked, they did get worried for a bit since you could have been in their condition. “Why did you get in their way? You could have gotten hurt!” Moon said as Sun frowned and Eclipse looked annoyed but was relieved that you didn’t get hurt. 

“I did it cause, I care about you guys”

Moon POV:

“I did it cause, I care about you guys”

Hearing those words from this human. It’s not something the three of us get to hear a lot because of Y/n being the only human that was decent and kind. Y/n keeping their distance from us was respectable but there was a time we wished that they would be a bit more brave and come towards us a little more. Humans were confusing and curious things but for Y/n. They were curious but it was when they first started to work here as our caretaker.

Sun was the first to move towards our human as he picked Y/n up in his better condition arm and held them close. Y/n didn’t seem bothered by it since it wasn’t the first time Sun had done this to them. Y/n being gentle as they were. Lightly pat and stroke Sun cheek as it was one way to calm him down.

Y/n POV:

Sun being a sweetheart and gentle. I smiled and lightly pat and stroke his cheek which makes him purr softly. I always find it cute as Moon and Eclipse also get like this when I give them some kind of affection. While I gave the sun some light affection, I did examine to see how all did he and the others have that needs to be treated.

“I know you guys hate that I have to treat your wounds but it has to be done or you’ll get worse”  I said to them softly as Sun looked at me with scared eyes. “D-do you have too little comet?” Sun whined at the thought of it but I nodded my head. “I know you don’t like it sunny but I promise to give you guys affection and treats if you behave for me” I gently cup Sun cheeks as Moon and Eclipse come over and surround me between their bodies.

The three looked at each other when I pulled my hands back a bit. I hated seeing the three of them injured because the scientists and the government wanted their blood sample and such. Eclipse was the first to speak up which caused me to look at him.

“We’ll let you treat us, we won’t be able to do it ourselves because of how exhausted and sore we are”

Eclipse softly said as he took one of my hands in his and gently held it. Moon took my other hand and placed it against his cheek that was cold but nice. I was glad that they were gonna let me treat them since this was something rare they allow to happen. “Alright, I need to go get the supplies so mind letting me down?” Sun nodded as he set me down on the ground when both Moon and Eclipse let go of my hands. 

As I went to go to the first aid closet that was next door. I felt someone grab my arm as I turned to see it was one of the scientists. “What do you want?” I said bluntly and harshly because I nevered the person.

“Why do you care so much about these stupid and idiotic experiments? You're just a regular worker here?!” The scientist looked at me all annoyed and confused. “If i didn’t stop you guys from torturing the subjects, All of your sorry asses would have either killed” I said with a growl as I turned back to grab the large first aid kit. I wasn’t gonna let them do something stupid to get themselves killed because of their carelessness. When I was about to leave and head back over, the scientist again grabbed my arm and slammed me against the shelf behind me with all the other supplies.

“Don’t test my patients rookie, your will stay out of my way or I’ll make you”

I started to get pissed off by this person. Not only did they lay their hands on me, slam me against a supply shelf but also threatened me. I slammed my head against the person causing them to back off in agony. "I don't give a damn about what you want me to do, if you keep this up then I won't save your asses the next time" I hissed at the scientist as I felt the room and went back over to start trying the astral boys.

"I'm back guys"  I said while giving them a forced smile to hide my irritation. Moon turned to see me as he came over and picked me up in his arms. "You alright little comet? I sense some anger in ya" Moon spoke softly as he brought over to the others. I let out a sigh and leaned my head against Moon's cool chest.

"One of the scientists tried to overpower me by rank and threaten me when he slammed me against one of the supply shelves because he didn't like the idea that I was being caring to you guys" I said honestly since lying to the guys wasn't the smart idea.

I felt Moon boy tense as I heard him and the other two starting to growl. "The nerve that humans have" Sun said as he normally tries to stay calm. Eclipse kept quiet but knowing him, he would be trying to kill the scientist the next time he sees them.

I lightly knock on the first aid kit to get the three attention. "I'll be alright, right now I need to focus on treating you guys first" I looked at each one of them before carefully getting on Moon's hands. I held out my right hand to the guys while holding the first aid in my left.

"So who wants to go first?"

#experiment sun #experiment moon #experiment eclipse #caretaker y/n #Experiment's Hearts #EH au #dca au #dca fandom #aus #EH Sun #EH Moon #EH Eclipse #EH Y/n #eclipse x reader #moondrop x reader #sundrop x reader

[princeanxious]

Fear the Daycare attendants all you like, but say one mean word to their faces and their handler will swoop in at a moments notice with a silent rage fueled by the many months of mental and emotional rehabilitation these three went through to ensure they could handle being re-released to the public.

Fazbear Entertainment might turn a blind eye to the animatronic rights movements that their highly specialized world renowned technology is absolutely a contribution towards, but this stout little animatronic handler didn’t pour their blood sweat and tears into helping rebuild these bots’ self confidence from the ground up every single day, for over half a year, to just let some entitled prick try and stomp over all the boys hardwork and progress at the drop of the hat.

Faz.Co can deal with the consequences of letting their two most expensive animatronics bond to one specific emotional support human whose made of like 70% protective feral rage at any given moment.

A good fit for the daycare, to be sure, but also a solid reminder that humans are just as capable of being the danger so many others label animatronics to be. (Moon is holding onto their handler for a reason, you know.)

(Edit: second take here)

#daycare attendant fnaf #dca fandom #moon fnaf #sun fnaf #fnaf comic #dca fnaf #idk which tags are main tags still but have another comic! #luka draws #the dca brainrot remains strong lol #i have read. so many fics the past few months #and had i the time-a few of my own ideas would have also been written. had an entire fic plotted for mermay #but for now all i can manage are simple comic strips unfortunately ;; #y/n in this au absolutely can and will attempt to throttle people when pushed far enough. moon holding y/n is just as much for his comfort- #-as it is for y/n’s /safety./ #y/n is a caretakers worst nightmare otherwise. a feral kitten that has stolent their cold mechanical hearts #except they are well aware that this feral kitten is more of a feral cat willing to throw themselves headfirst into danger to protecc them

[ayyy-imma-ninja]

Regression- a DCA!Serial Killer AU Drabble

just a slice of something. May or may not become canon.

context: Moon is out shopping to restock for babysitting, Detective is about to play a card game with Sun in his apartment. Secret is also out-

cw: panic attack, breakdown, age regression

Sun hurries over with a deck in his hands, rattling it in its box. The deck was, of course, themed around cats. After scooting the coffee table aside you both sit on the living room rug. You cross your legs while Sun sits on his knees.

"So! What game do you fancy?" Sun asks, tapping the deck in his hand. "Blackjack? Poker?"

You lean back on your hands. "Not much experience with those."

"No? You have an excellent poker face for it." Sun lightly teases as he starts to open the box. You laugh.

"Adult games are boring. Besides, I can play a mean game of Go Fish."

"Go Fish it is, then!"

Sun shakes the box and the deck lands in his hands. He shuffles it briefly in a fluid motion then begins to cut. First you, then himself. As he reaches to give you your fourth card, it slips from his fingers and lands on the floor, exposing the suit. His hand twitches.

"Ah..."

You look to the flipped card, then to Sun, who had gone still, his hand still stretched out. His eyes locked on the card. You knit a brow. "Sun? What's up?"

Your voice seems to snap him out of whatever trance he was in as he blinks and looks to you. He stretches a smile across his face plate. "Ah, it's nothing. Don't wor--"

The remaining deck in his hand suddenly folds and spills onto the floor, covering both his and your stack. Sun makes another noise, this time of what you hear as frustration. You think nothing of it.

"Hey it's okay," you say and straighten. You reach to the fallen cards. "Here, I can--"

"I can do it."

Before you can, Sun's hands cover the cards and he tries pulling them all back towards his spot. You pull your hand back and watch him almost scramble to collect the cards that keep slipping through his fingers. "I can do it, it's fine, I can do it..." he keeps muttering.

The cards now lay messily on the floor in front of him, some of them slightly crinkled and bent from his eagerness to collect them. You watch a hand pick up the first card that had initially fallen, and it trembles between his fingers.

Wait...no, his whole hand is shaking.

You look to him, about to ask if he was alright, when you notice his expression had changed, ready to crumple as he glared tearfully at the card like it was at fault. His shoulders quiver, too.

"Sun?" you ask, now concerned. "Sun, what's wrong?" He doesn't answer, the only reply given is a hiss of air meant to mimic a hitch of breath. You grow more and more worried. What could've set him off? "Maybe we shouldn't play right now--"

"No!"

You jump at the brief shout.

"I-I can play! I-I can..." The card falls to the floor again. He holds his hands out in front of him, shaking and tense. The oil tears fall one by one. "I can do it...! I know I can, I..." He tries scrubbing them away, not bothering if it stained the sleeves of his sweater, but more only appear. His rays rattle and jut in and out.

"I know how to run a stupid library...I-I know how to take care of children...I know how to kill people, so I know how to cut a stupid deck..."

You blink as your worry continues to rise. Where was this coming from? Did someone say something to him?

You inch towards him, slowly reaching a hand towards him. "H-Hey, it's okay, Sun. I know you do. What's wrong, bud? Talk to me, I'm worried."

"I-I'm fine! I'm fine...I-I...c-can..."

Sun's words falter, and he wails. Pitching his head back, his eyes screw shut, sending more oily tears running down his face plate. His rays retract completely, and for a moment with the loud cry his mouth fully opens. He then hunches forward, pressing his face into the floor, arms covering his head. You're bewildered by this, but are far more concerned for your friend.

"Sun!" You put a gentle hand on his shoulder and shake him. You raise your voice in hopes of speaking over his crying. "It's alright! Hey! What's going on? Did something happen at work today?"

You somehow manage to get him to sit up, though he still hunches forward. His face is a mess from the oil, streaming down his cheek and dripping off the tip of his nose. There is a stain on the rug, but that isn't your main focus. Though his mouth had closed again he continues crying. He scrubs at his face with the heels of his palm, and his entire body jolts each time he takes simulated hitch of breath. They sound remarkably like harsh hiccups. Any words he may have spoken come out completely incomprehensible.

Almost like babbling...

The door swings open and you jump, looking up. You're relieved to see Moon standing in the doorway, a spooked and concerned look on his face plate. He drops the shopping bags and makes a b-line for you both, holding onto Sun, who almost immediately latches onto him for dear life. You begin to explain what happened. Moon sighs with a nod, almost like he understood things clearer. He cradles his brother like a mother would a frightened child.

"Give us a moment, please," he requests. "Just in the next room."

You're confused, but you nod and stand up, walking into another room of the apartment to give them space. From a distance, you can hear Moon speak soothingly to Sun until his crying finally stops.

After a while, Moon's voice quietly calls for you, telling you it's alright to come back. You return to the living room and find Moon hunched over the oil stain on the rug, scrubbing it clean. The card deck has been put away and sits on the coffee table. Curled up on the couch you find Sun, a blanket dotted with circus elephants draped over him. A stuffed bear is tucked in his arms. His face is clean, and he appears to be sleeping. One hand presses against his mouth as if he's about to suck his thumb.

Before you can ask what happened, Moon rises to a stand. The stain is gone. He sighs softly, then looks to you. Then to the grocery bags behind you. You look, too. "Help with those," he says in a hushed voice, or more hushed than usual. "I'll explain then."

You nod and the two of you get to work. Carrying the bags to the kitchen, you pull the items out and follow Moon's instructions on where things go. He comments how Sun likes things organized a certain way, how "everything has its place". You find humor in it for a brief second.

"Is he okay?" you ask while putting away juice boxes.

"He's alright," Moon answers, closing a cabinet after stocking it with wipes. He holds onto the cabinet knobs for a moment before sighing and letting them go.

"You must be confused," he says.

"I'm more concerned than anything," you reply.

"Sunny didn't tell you about the day he had, did he?"

"Obviously not." You fold your arms loosely over your chest, glancing to the couch where Sun slept. "He told you, though?"

"He tells me everything," Moon states while digging through another bag. He pulls out a carton of almond milk and stows it into the fridge. He feels your eyes on him as you wait for an explanation. "Sunny had a run-in with a rather...rude visitor at the library today."

"A Karen?"

"Cranked up to 11." You exhale with a shake of your head and wait for him to continue. "Visitor in town, staying for a few weeks. She wanted a certain book, but it was already checked out by someone else. She was adamant there was another copy, said the library's site told her so. Sunny tried to de-escalate things, like he normally does, all while she tears into him. And in front of other children, too. Said how could a robot be terrible at this kind of job."

"She said that?"

Moon nods.

A heat swells in your chest as your eyes fall back on the couch. Thinking back, you recall the things Sun had said before his fit began. Things have been rocky for all three of you lately. This lady was a visitor. She doesn't know this town's secret...

"That explains things, then."

"That isn't all."

You look to Moon, brows knit. "There's more?"

"You saw how he is now, yes? Different compared to how he was before?"

"What are you saying?"

Moon sighs, tossing the empty bags into the recycling bin. "Sometimes," he begins, "when Sunny has a really bad day, it gets to him. The stress can be too much. So, to help with the stress, he..." he pauses, as if thinking of the proper word before finally finding it, "regresses."

"...Regresses?" you parrot back.

Moon nods. He sees your confusion and sighs again, arms folded over his chest, though not in aggravation. "His mind reverts to that of a child. Not like that of a Little from someone with dissociative identity disorder. He is still Sunny. Just...smaller, mentally."

Your brows knit further as you try to follow along with his explanation. You're not sure if this is something you have ever experienced, either personally or from another person, but to see something like this in an animatronic...

"So...to deal with stress..." you slowly explain, going at the pace of your thought process, "he mentally reverts to a child-like state."

"Bingo was his name-o."

You nod, relieved to have that confirmed. You feel a pang in your heart. Sun had tried to hold out, not wanting what happened to ruin your game or for you to worry, right until that fumble with the card became the straw to break the camel's back. Even as he fell apart, he still put you first.

"How long does it last?"

"Varies," Moon says. "Usually, it passes once he's had a nap. Usually." By the brief change in tone, you guess that anything further was worth another separate discussion. "You don't need to worry. He will be fine."

You nod again, then lower your head as you think further on the subject. After a moment, you look back up at Moon.

"Do you...regress, too?" you ask.

Moon doesn't reply, but the expression on his face gives you the answer you seek. Air hisses as he sighs and walks back over to the couch. He kneels in front of Sun's head. You can't see it, but he reaches and pets his brother's head. "You are welcome to stay," he tells you, "or you can go. I understand if this frightens you."

You think for a moment, then approach the couch as well. You peer over the back and down at Sun's sleeping form. He looks so small, curled up. You hesitate to call it cute, giving what drove him to this state in the first place. Carefully, you reach down and touch his cheek. It twitches, but he doesn't stir.

"I'll...hang around a bit," you finally answer. You walk around the couch and crouch next to Moon. "He'll probably ask for me when he wakes up. May as well be here for it. And you can explain to me more about the whole...regression thing."

Moon glances your way and smiles warmly, almost in wordless thanks.

#dca!serial killer au #sk sun #sk moon #serial killer duo #detective y/n #drabble #fnaf dca au #fnaf dca #fnaf daycare au #cw panic attack #cw mental breakdown #cw age regression #detective knows the truth in this one #but that's not the focus #karens #protective moon #caretaker moon #regressed sk!sun #hurt/comfort

[funkyhedonist]

Small doodle of a Caretaker!Alastor and Kid!Y/N I did!

Was thinking of writing and had this idea of Y/N being the new addition to Lucifer’s Family and being Charlie’s younger sibling, then Alastor somehow being a babysitter and taking care of Y/N either through force or obligation.. I dunno, thought it was a funky idea

(Also, The onesie Y/N has on is a reference to Zoophobia by Vivziepop!)

#hazbin selfinsert #hazbin fandom #hazbin self insert #hazbin art #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #alastor #y/n #fanfiction #hazbin fanart #hazbin hotel fanart #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin art #alastor hazbin x reader #x reader #caretaker #agere little #little space #digital doodle #fanart #digital art #digital arwork #au #hazbin hotel au #zoophobia

[somber-sapphic]

I’ve been laid up in bed all weekend with some chest thing. I think my body is trying to get bronchitis. I just want Maya and Carina to take care of me. Any chance you could write a Marina taking care of reader for me?

Waiting For Morning

〖Summary: Carina and Maya watch over you while you sleep.〗

〖Word Count: 795〗

〖Pairing: Marina x sick R〗

〖Notes: Hi anon! I'm sorry you're not feeling well :(. Drink lots of fluids, rest and please go to the doctor if you need to. I hope this helps you feel a little better <3〗

“Maybe we should take them in,” Maya whispered, trying very hard not to disturb you from your fitful slumber. You had finally managed to fall asleep, but it wasn’t restful in the slightest. You were still coughing even in your sleep, it was a wheezy rattling sound that took so much energy out of you. 

She had told you to keep an eye on that cold, Carina had done the same. When they had first started to fuss over you it felt so unnecessary. The common cold was something you could brush off. Until it wasn't. Something about this cold had been different, you hadn’t thought much about the clinging cough but when the fever struck you knew something was wrong. 

“No, not yet. They need to rest. We’ll keep an eye on their breathing and temperature, if it gets worse we can take them.” Carina replied, shifting ever so slightly to help you get more comfortable. She had surrendered herself as a living body pillow hours ago, abandoning the nice dinner that she had been attempting to cook. 

Maya didn’t seem convinced; her face had been pinched into a concerned expression since you had started to deteriorate and she refused to leave your side. While you clung to Carina she clung to you, worried that something would go wrong the second she took her eyes off you. 

“They’ve been getting worse!” Maya hissed, tucking strands of hair behind your ear, periodically brushing a thumb against your cheek. 

It was something she’d started to do after you’d had a nightmare and she picked up the habit after noticing how well it calmed you down. Now, whenever you were stressed, had a bad dream, or were sick she’d stroke your cheekbone and brush your hair behind your ear. The combination always worked. 

You stirred, waking to a coughing fit that just couldn’t be ignored. You curled yourself into a ball and coughed into Carina’s side, not fully aware of her surroundings. The brunette didn’t protest, she and Maya just rubbed your back and waited for the fit to pass. 

When you finally pealed your eyes open with a small sniffle you looked up into the face of the doctor who smiled back at you. For a moment you considered apologizing but you were too tired. You knew she didn’t care anyway so apologizing wouldn’t matter. 

“Hello, my love. How are you feeling?” You grunted in response and shrugged, rolling to your other side to face Maya. The blonde kissed your forehead and the tip of your nose, doing her best to make you smile. It worked, it always worked. Even when she was stressed Maya could always make you smile. 

“Time’sit?” You croaked, pulling yourself up onto your elbows. The small movement made you dizzy, and you regretted whatever urge decided that you needed to move in the first place. Your whole body hurt, your lungs aching alongside the rest of your muscles. 

“A little past two in the morning. Can you tell us how you’re feeling?” Maya asked moving closer, to help prop you up. You leaned against her and shrugged again, already letting your eyes shut for another moment.

“Not great. Why’re you guys still up?” You reached blindly for Carina, hitting her lightly until you found her hand to hold. Her hands were soft and warm in contrast to Maya’s calloused palms. The two were polar opposites, sometimes it surprised you that they managed not to kill each other at the beginning of your relationship. 

“It’s hard to sleep when someone you love is sick,” Carina said, cringing at her words. “God that was corny, wasn’t it?” Maya laughed and your lips quirked up in a smile. It was corny, but you loved it. 

“It was pretty bad.” You admitted, lowering yourself back against the pillows. This time you dragged Maya with you so that you were sandwiched more comfortably between your girlfriends. You sniffled tiredly and shivered, your discomfort reemerging. 

Carina brought the blanket up over your shoulders and Maya kissed your shoulder, both of them doing the best they could to help you feel better. 

“If you aren’t breathing better in the morning we’re going to Grey Sloan.” The brunette decided, her anxiety winning over what she knew was likely something that could clear up on its own. She was okay with being overprotective when it came to you. Maya nodded her agreement, but you had already started to fall asleep again, not noticing her reaction. 

“Get some rest for now. We’ll see how you’re doing in the morning.” The firefighter wrapped an arm around your waist, spooning you against Carina. The three of you lay like that in a warm cocoon, your girlfriends joining you in sleep only moments later. 

#sickfic #sick fanfiction #sick reader #fever whump #maya bishop #maya x carina x reader #maya x carina #carina deluca #carina deluca x reader #marina x reader #marina #sick fanfic #sick you #sick y/n #sick character #caretaker #station 19 sickfic

[snakebites-and-ink]

Whumper-Turned-Caretaker CYOA 8

CW for the series | Masterlist

You chose to address the "sir" thing.*

You decide you’re going to reassess the titles requirement.

You’re already having a serious talk with Whumpee, and the focus is on changes in their circumstance. It’s probably a good idea to deal with their titles use now. May as well, while you’re at this.

You consider. You rather like being addressed by a title, of course, or you wouldn’t have made that a rule for them. But it would probably be best for their recovery to ditch that rule, at least at some point. A healthy, free person would probably feel comfortable calling you whatever they felt like. Maybe it can wait though; would it be better to keep the focus on more pressing issues? It could cause them to stress over what the “right” way to address you is.

*it was a tie, but I went with this one because I was planning on following this next part with the other option anyways

Taglist:

@kabie-whump, @whumpanthems, @whumpsoda, @3-2-whump, @generic-whumperz, 

@taterswhump, @alivenova, @whumped-by-glitter, @expressionless-fr, @whumpycries, 

@whumpsday, @moons-cozy-corner, @echo-goes-aaa, @whumplr-reader, @starfields08000, 

@whump-blog, @ivymyers, @currentlyinthesprial, @lumpofsand, @coffin-hopping, 

@sunglasses-in-the-bentley

#Sorry the writing in this one is just filler to provide the poll #also: You guys okay with being called Whumper? #I guess I could use y/n if people say they really want that. I have a hard time immersing myself in y/n but I know some ppl prefer it #(Or maybe something else? tho I'm uncertain what else it would be...) #But I figure Whumper would make the most sense seeing as the whumpee is just called Whumpee #interactive whump #interactive #interactive fiction #choose your own adventure #choose your own adventure poll #whump poll #cyoa #whump cyoa #whump #whumper turned caretaker #whump writing #original fic #writing #whumpblr #whumper turned caretaker cyoa #my writing #my posts