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#it is WORRISOME. it WORRIES ME okay.
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kinda wild to me that one of the most compelling aspects of both Chuuya and Kunikida's characters to me, that I never really see talked about, is how they're heavily set on a doomed crash course towards complete and utter destruction, and how I am so, so worried for them both.....
#bungou stray dogs#been thinking a lot about chuuya lately (shocking for me i know (said with no sarcasm truly lmao it is rare for me))#cause of the 15 manga and also playing the fucking jeht quest in genshin impact ugh (where's the one dual genshin bsd fan who Understands)#but like this pressure has been building up for chuuya for so long due to being used and manipulated by all these people#first the sheep then mori then verlaine then still mori now#he was groomed since childhood just like dazai#but unlike dazai he didn't have an oda to help him get out of the mafia........ he's still stuck there#and his personality is different from dazai's. dazai was more self-aware imo (but still a groomed emotionally abused kid don't get me wrong#but chuuya's whole thing is needing to belong and wanting a leader to be loyal to but ending up in positions of leadership himself#which makes him feel pressured but he accepts and stifles any negative feelings just because he wants to belong#and all this crushed him with the events in the light novels and yeah he went through character growth but he's...... Still In The Mafia...#and that fucking scene asagiri added to the cannibalism stage play i don't think hardly anyone even knows about bc IT'S NOT DISCUSSED ANYMO#where mori emotionally manipulates him with the flags!!! and it deeply hurts him!!! and he presumably deals with that shit all the time!!!#it is WORRISOME. it WORRIES ME okay.#chuuya doesn't have anyone who can save him from the mafia (dazai is in no position to okay; it's all he can do just to try to save himself#and it's so so scary. it spells awful things for him.#didn't asagiri say he'd have a rough path or something??? and he added that fucking scene in the play!!! it haunts me!!#i fully expected this shit to hit a turning point in the meursault arc but we can't have nice things i guess#and as for kunikida a;lskdfl (took me this long to get to him oop) literally the ending of Entrance Exam (the novel) is just#One Big Foreshadowing for Kunikida's downfall#he's compared to the azure king for a reason. Sasaki saw the azure king in him for a reason. it's fucking worrying!!!!!#there hasn't really been anything like that since in the manga (just like for chuuya lol ugh) but he's TERRIBLE at coping with his trauma#and it only gets more apparent once shit hit the fan in the doa/hunting dogs/meursault arc#it's not good!!! i'm worried for kunikida too!!!!#even if the manga isn't focusing on this these worries are always in the back of my mind man#both kunikida and chuuya are doomed to hit some kind of breaking point eventually and i await those moments with dread yet anticipation#i want dazai to be able to save kunikida from the despair being too good a person brings the way he couldn't save oda#and chuuya.... if we get a scene with him & mori mirroring the one in dark era where dazai finds out that mori orchestrated the kids' death#oh man i think i'll fucking die (give it to me i need to cry)
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girl.... that is a cabbage 😔
Y'all really have zero faith in my ability to know vegetables smh
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tchaikovskym · 6 months
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Really want to live on my own but I'm genuinely concerned about the possibility that it might lead to me taking my own life. Because really, come to think of it - I'd be alone, my family would slowly get used to me not being there with them every day. They would have their own lives without me, and the only thing that would change is that I would no longer pop back in once in a while. It's literally so easy to remove myself from other people's lives.
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reiderwriter · 5 months
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Can I request a Spencer babying the reader BAU and everyone on the team is so done with it but reader is confused and oblivious...?
A/N: Thank you for your request! I've been very much feeling post-Prison/ later seasons Spencer recently, so I hope you enjoy this fic!
Warnings: mostly fluff, implied age-gap, slight mentor/mentee dynamic.
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Your first year in the BAU would've been tough had it not been for Doctor Spencer Reid.
It was tough still, but without him, you don't think you'd have been able to handle much of it. He'd been your mentor through each case, taking you under his wing when he wasn't on academic leave, teaching his criminology courses at the FBI Academy.
Those weeks were the hardest, and you found yourself moping about in the office, texting him once or twice a trip for advice.
On one particularly hard case, he'd come back into the office after you'd text. Not to consult on the case, but just to drop you off a chamomile tea and a pastry to brighten your day that little bit.
When he was back, your days were great. He knew so much, and you learnt so much from him so quickly, eagerly consuming his every word. You were so eager to please him that you often forgot others around the two of you.
“Spencer, if you're done fawning after Y/N we have a case to work on,” Emily gently chastised the man as he pulled out your chair for you, ready to sit down to hear the details of your next crime.
“Oh, Emily, thank you, but it's okay. Doctor Reid was just being considerate, I'm sure he'd have done it for anyone.” The shared glances around the room were filled with glib secrecy, but no-one commented further, leaving you slightly baffled.
Those shared looks between the other members of your team had become more common as of late, with each one more worrisome than the next. There was something unsettling about being the only one out of the loop, and as the newest member of the team, and the youngest, it often felt disheartening.
“Y/N, don't worry. Being the youngest member of any team is tough, but you're smart and you're holding your own.” With a pat to your head he walked away, lifting the weight off your shoulders slightly but not fully. You needed to get to the bottom of the BAU's non-verbal communications, and you needed answers.
Your first technique was interrogation. Surely one of them would break and tell you if you laid out your thoughts and feelings clearly.
Surely not, you found, as each member casually and softly blew you off.
“Y/N, you just need to think carefully about how certain members of the team act towards you. How familiar they are. How overly familiar they are.” Tara had at least told you that much, bit it had left you just as confused as the radio silence from the others.
“Everyone has behaved very professionally with me. You've all been very welcoming up to this point, which I appreciate greatly.”
“I wouldn't count gifting you flowers for your first successful case as the most professional act, Y/N,” she said as she sipped her coffee. “But I suppose that is just up to interpretation.
Doctor Reid had sent you flowers after you finished your first case. But there had been extenuating circumstances in that case. You'd both worked on the geographical profile on that case, and together had figured out the species of flower the unsub was using was only cultivated on one local flower orchard. It had cracked the case open and you'd found your unsub hours later.
So the flowers were an extension of that small joint success. That was all.
Your second attempt at figuring out what was going on was observation.
Partially taking Tara’s advice, you tried your best to track the moments when each of the weary looks would come your way.
Overwhelmingly, they seemed to be directed towards Doctor Reid whenever the two of you interacted.
You had to gently inform him of this, before it interrupted both of your abilities to work.
“Doctor Reid, do you know why Emily and Rossi are both currently watching us from between the blinds in their offices?” You whispered to the man, leaning in close to his ear. You were quite sure he didn't know, but a question seemed as good a way as any to broach the topic.
“I do, yes. It's best if you ignore them.”
His nonchalance in the matter shocked you, so sure you were that this would be news to him. You waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't.
“Why are they staring at us?” You finally managed to force the words out in a small squeak, forcing his eyes back to yours.
“Don't worry about it for now, I'll handle it.” He smiled down as you, and the bright gesture washed away more of the tension you'd been feeling in the office. You smiled back at him as he rose from his desk chair and carried himself to the stairs. You giggled when he winked down at you, just as you noticed Emily frantically hurrying away from her office window as Spencer knocked on her door.
As much as he told you to not worry about it all though, you really couldn't help yourself. You found yourself growing more clumsy under the watchful eyes of your entire team, galling more times than you'd care to admit into Doctor Reid's arms. He always caught you, though, and you were thankful you never did yourself serious injury.
You finally got the answers you'd craved out on a case about a month into your struggles.
There was something slightly unsettling about the way the female Sheriff was paying attention to Doctor Reid, and it made you uncomfortable. Your mouth ran dry when she touched his arm, but a small part of you warmed up again when he shrugged her off. Until, at least, you heard him explain why.
“I'm sorry, I'm a germophobe, so I'd really prefer you not touch me.” His voice was calm and steady; it really didn't seem like he was lying.
“You're not pulling my leg? I'm sorry if I came on too strong, but-”
“Why would I pull your leg, I said I don't like physical touch?”
“Well, there was that young girl earlier, Y/N was it? You had your hand on her back as you walked in, so I didn't think…”
The woman had made a good point, and you crept closer to the edge of the door to hear Doctor Reid - Spencer's response.
“Sheriff, if we're done here, do you think I could get back to my job?” You were almost disappointed in the change of topic, but you weren't all that sad to see the Sheriff remove herself from the room. Slipping in behind her you decided to test the new theory that had slipped into your mind in the last minutes.
You called out to him to grab his attention as you walked into the room but before he had the chance to turn and greet you, you threw your arms around his shoulders and pressed your body down against his, enveloping him in a back hug.
It was quite possibly the most familiar position you'd been in with him, but really it wasn't all that different from your usual proximity.
Unlike when the Sheriff casually brushed against him, he didn't stiffen, didn't pull away, but instead melted into your touch, looking up at you with a large grin.
You stood shocked for a minute before grinning back.
“Spencer, I think I know why everyone has been watching us for the last few weeks.” You said, causing his eyes to panic slightly as he acknowledged your words.
“The, uh, the Sheriff was just in here talking about a development either some of the DNA test results-” He desperately tried to change the subject, but you were locked in now, spinning his chair around to face you more as you came eye-to-eye with him.
“I know why the Sheriff was in here, Spencer, I heard it all.”
“It's not what you think,” you paused for a moment as your brow furrowed, trying to figure out if you'd somehow caught the wrong end of the stick.
“So our coworkers haven't been waiting for you to ask me out, having noticed large changes in your body language and attitude around me?”
“It's….exactly as you think.” His face was flushed with pink and your heart skipped a beat at the man in front of you. But you still had some questions.
“And you knew, but you didn't say anything to me despite the fact that I bought it up multiple times?”
“I'm…I'm not good with words," he frowned
“Are you good with dates?”
“Excuse me?”
“You're going to take me on a date when we get back to Quantico. After giving it some thought, Doctor Reid, it seems I've become quite enamoured of you.” You dropped into his lap then, sitting there like a cat pleased to take up residence on its owners legs. He stuttered for a few seconds but then found his voice again, face lighting up.
“Spencer. Please, Y/N, call me Spencer.”
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moonstruckme · 1 month
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Hi! I would die for a poly!marauders x reader where reader gets a bloody nose and almost passes out. This has happened to me and I wish I had the boys 😅 of course only if this sounds interesting!! 🫶🏼
Thanks for requesting love!
cw: blood, near fainting
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 642 words
You’re mid-story when Remus’ expression shifts. 
“And he didn’t even…ask…” You trail off as James’ eyes flare suddenly. Remus is scanning the room like he’s searching for something. “...what?” 
“I’m just looking for the tissues…” 
You feel your expression crease.
“Don’t worry,” says Sirius, in a no-nonsense tone you don’t hear often. “Just pinch your nose shut and close your eyes, okay?” 
“What…” You touch your fingertips to your nose, and the second the bright red pads come into your view you’re overcome by a wave of nausea. 
“Don’t, don’t.” James takes your hand, bloody fingers and all, hiding them away. Your head fills with cotton. Remus gets up and goes into the kitchen. “Baby, that’s what we’re trying to keep from happening.” 
The feel of something splattering on your thigh has you looking down on instinct. You barely process the bead of blood curving down your thigh before your vision starts to blacken. 
“Okay.” A hand cups the back of your head, cold fingers pressing into your scalp as it takes your weight, and another pinches your nostrils. “None of that, doll, c’mon. You’re okay.” 
You blink a couple of times before the fuzzy darkness clears enough for you to see Sirius in front of you. He’s the picture of calm, while James’ eyes are magnified cartoonishly wide by his glasses. It takes you a second to figure out you need to breathe through your mouth. 
Sirius nods as you inhale. “Good,” he says. “Just keep your eyes on me, doll.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” James quips, and Sirius’ lips quirk but he doesn’t take his eyes from yours. 
“It’s a happy consequence.” 
“Sorry,” you say, voice sounding whiny all stuffed up. 
“You’re good,” James reassures you. “Rem’s gonna get you cleaned up in just a second. It seems we’ve misplaced the tissues.” 
“Found them!” Remus announces from down the hall. “Who put them under the bed?” 
You and Sirius look to James. He shrugs, sheepish. “That’s my bad,” he admits. “My allergies were bothering me, and I didn’t feel like getting up.” 
“Hoarder,” Sirius accuses fondly, letting go of your nose briefly to allow Remus to swipe at the skin beneath it. 
“Close your eyes,” Remus warns softly, and this time you listen before you can see the tissue. You feel him blot at your nostrils and then wipe up the blood on your hand and leg, keeping your eyes squeezed shut tight. “Good girl.” The lid of the trash bin clangs shut. “You can open now.” 
You replace Sirius’ hand with your own, and he gives you a cautious look as he lets go slowly. “You sure you’ve got it?” He raises an eyebrow at you. “I don’t mind.” 
You smile at him, closed-lipped and trying not to think about what you’re staunching. “I’m good, thanks.” 
Remus sits back down with a heavy sigh. James nods his agreement heartily. 
“Since when do you get nosebleeds?” he asks you. 
“Since now, I guess,” you say. “It’s not my new favorite thing.” 
You’ve always fainted at the sight of blood, so spontaneous bleeding is probably one of the top ten worst things that can happen to you. 
“It’s a bit worrisome,” Remus agrees. “What happens if you’re driving and your nose starts bleeding again? You can’t very well pass out behind the wheel.” 
You level him with a deadpan look. “I’ll try to refrain.” 
“It won’t happen again,” Sirius says surely. He’s eyeing you in a peculiar way, somehow both assessing and decided at once. “We’ll figure out what caused it, and make sure it doesn’t.” 
You look to Remus for an eye roll, but both of your boyfriends look about as trusting in this plan as Sirius. 
“How?” you ask. 
He gives you an indulgent smile. “Don’t worry about it, baby. We’re not gonna let anything happen to you.”
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2-dsimp · 26 days
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Ok so everyone and their mother has yandere CEO/ boss x a secretary/assistant/intern blah blah blah
BUT! Hear me out...what and a yandere assistant x boss darling??
Cw: slight blood/gore, obsessive/possessive tendencies, self-sabotage, lack of self worth,
Synopsis: 【You are the overseer in charge of the finance floor of the company SupeCo. And you happened to be issued a brand you employee who was albeit a greenhorn. But nonetheless passionate in preforming his duties as your assistant. You’ve in the short couple days you’ve grown a soft spot for him. And constantly prayed that he’d make it through his job, in one piece since you discovered that he tended to be accident prone.】
☆*:.。..。.:*☆ ☆*:.。..。.:*☆ ☆*:.。..。.:
Yandere assistant! That’s always in attention whenever his darling boss is ready to put him to work. He’s practically twitching from getting withdrawals of receiving less than the amount of orders he’d like to have from you.
Yandere Assistant! Whose mind is buzzing 24/7 and is utterly pathetic all by his lonesome. And craves for you to throw whatever tasks you’ve got at him, anything at all, to satisfy his dream of being your personal lap dog.
Yandere assistant! Who loves hearing your voice calling out for his support from across the office hall. He just cannot relate to how his other coworkers cower at their names being announced by their own superiors. Since you were the best in his humblest opinion. And the only one he’d deem to be of importance to be more precise.
Yandere Assistant! That subtly does self sabotage if only to hog your time, in making you giving him lengthy instructions. On what to do since he clearly couldn’t fathom how to print out a piece of paper.
Yandere Assistant! Who swears that he’s not incompetent on purpose. But it’s just that he adores the way you’re so kind with your words. And oh so patient when it comes to correcting a member of your staff. Even going as far as to touch him to show exactly how to maneuver the printer. In short all of your lovely gestures made him jumpy. As he was sweating bullets trying not to turn into a feral degenerate and bend you over the broke ass printer to properly “use it”.
“Tem? Temothy~? Hello? I’m sorry Am I going too fast for you or—“
“Ah nonono absolutely not! Y-you’re fine B-boss I c-could hear you j-just fine!”
Your new hire assistant, Temothy, stuttered as he blinked out of whatever daydream he got afflicted with. Fixing you a mousy smile as he haphazardly fixed his messy overgrown bangs which obscured half of his face from view. You noted that He always had a soft spoken voice along with his habitual stutter speech pattern. Whilst he fidgeted a bit underneath your explicit worrisome expression as you fretted over his wellbeing like a mother hen.
“I only need to cut these stacks of paper for y-you with this cutter r-right? I’ll get on T-that right a-away!”
He managed in a squirrelly tone as he shakily grabbed ahold of the paper cutter. Lining up some blank pieces alongside the dotted lines with an unsteady hand.
It was his first couple days on the job and you found him to be quite the ditzy klutz but an endearing one nonetheless. It was refreshing how eager he is to always lend a helping hand even after he had just gotten off his shift. Which made you feel bad to ask him to come in to work when it was his day off since some of your employees decided not to come in for their shift.
“Wait Temothy dear you’re holding it the wrong way—!”
“Ouch! Oh my stars I’m t-terribly sorry B-boss! I got it all fuckin b-bloody! Ah paper towels… where’s the paper towels?”
You couldn’t believe your eyes and what you were hearing. Was this man seriously worried about how he dirtied the cutter station to which he earnestly tried to clean. While the skin on his palm was sliced open from pinky to thumb. And was bleeding rapidly as bloody rivets ran down his inner wrist.
“Temothy forget about the cutter and papers okay? You don’t need to worry bout none of that. What we need to do is patch you up first and foremost”
You cooed as you briskly took his uninjured hand in yours and ushered him to your office where you always had a health kit stored underneath your desk. Completely missing how his breathing slowed and his wide eyes dilated into small heart pinpricks.
“Y-yes Boss…thank you for c-caring I’ll be sure to return this d-debt”
His usual timid expression darkened into something more depraved as a small fanged smile made its way onto his chapped lips. Of which he licked as he gave an experimental squeeze to your hand only to shiver in delight when you responded back in kind.
No one had ever been this kind to him, due to his bad luck he’s always the type to be scoffed at without as much as a second glance. Hell it was a miracle that he even landed this job as your assistant in the first place. But now that he was here he intended to stay permanently and serve you for the rest of your days as your loyal assistant. Whether you liked it or not, you couldn’t ever get rid of him not when you’ve already gave him your hand to hold near in dear to his heart.
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watersunairmoon · 2 months
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erm my first drabble? or thought? idk im just a whore for Satoru Gojo and needed to get the filth out of my brain. be nice to me!!
content warnings!!: mean!dom!gojo, fem!reader, sub!reader, over stimulation, dacryphilia, cervix fucking (kinda?), squirting, degrading and praising, vibrator, pushing limits kinda, passing out, cumming inside, idk just filth okay
MINORS DNFUCKINGI
“oh baby, youre shaking so much~” You could feel his breath tickling your ear, his chuckle sending a chill straight down your spine. The position he currently had you in was obscene- even looking at yourself in your full length mirror the two of you were sitting in front of would normally make you blush. That was, if he hadnt already fucked every worry and insecurity in you out, until it was dripping down your thighs. Back flush against his chest, head lolled back onto his shoulder, gojos tight grip on your waist, legs locked open with his own giving him full view of your leaking cunt around his length. It was enough to make him drool.
“Come on, take a deep breath. Im not even doing anything right now.” The cockiness was evident in his tone, and you could practically hear the smirk on his face. He said it so casually, like he hadnt already fucked you through your 4th orgasm of the night, like he wasnt balls deep inside you at the moment. Damn him and his stupid stamina. You would swear you could feel him in your cervix right now, certain if you had the strength to raise your head youd see the outline of his cock sticking through your lower stomach.
Your belief was quickly proven as you felt his hand trace from your hip, right to where you could feel so much pressure. Gojos slender fingers running along the bulging spot, pressing down and building even more tension in your abused womb. This pulled a whimper from your throat, causing your head to finally raise from his shoulder, only for your heat to clench tightly around him once you saw your fucked out body in the mirror. It was so embarrassing to you how he could reduce you to such a pathetic mess. But to Gojo? It was easily one of his favorite things.
“T-Toru, please, i cant…” You whine at the feeling of being stuffed so full, eyes brimming with tears at the sensation. The white haired male thought you just looked so adorable like this, pleading him to have mercy on your over-worked body, legs trembling, salty tears about to spill over your pretty little lashes. He wondered how much more he would have to push you until you were full on sobbing, the thought of it sending a throb to his sex and a twisted smile across his face, already planning out how exactly he was going to break you.
“What do you mean you cant?” He feigned disappointment, hiding his shit eating grin behind a small frown, eyes raking over your body til he met yours in the mirror. “Im not asking you to do much y’know, y’r just sitting there.” The way he said it was almost a scoff, his tone alone making you whimper. This told you that he was no where near done with you, and you more than likely had a long night ahead of you. He hadnt even came yet, he had been holding back, and that was even more worrisome. “Ive been doing the work this whole time, and youre telling me y’r the one that cant keep going? How sad.” He shook his head as he laughed at you. He was so mean sometimes, so apathetic to your situation like it wasnt his fault. But nonetheless, his teasing made the tears you were trying so hard to hold back, fall softly down your face. It was so weird how he could literally make you cry but at the same time make your pussy flutter around him. Satoru had really turned you into a whore for him, and your bodies betraying actions never went unnoticed to him.
“Awww and now shes crying. Dont act like you’re so sad baby, i can feel you tighten up every time, ya’know that right?” His taunting purr only sent another wave of arousal through you, heat pulsating around him, causing him to snicker. “Yeah just like that… your poor little whored out pussy loves when im mean, doesnt she?” He cooed, returning his hand to your hip to keep you from squirming as he lightly thrusted up into you, placing a couple soft kisses on your shoulder.
“A-ah!” You couldnt help but cry out, even from such a shallow movement “ ‘s too much p-please, please! Toru!” The tears were streaming now, but it was evident Gojo didnt care, only wrapping his arms snugly around your torso to keep you in place as he softly fucked into you. God, your reactions were making him go feral, he doubted he could stop even if he wanted to at this point, watching you fall apart on his cock was just too satisfying- you were lucky he was only doing it softly. Though it felt much more intense to your over stimulated cunny. “J-just give me a second! Please! pleasepleaseplease-” You cried loudly, gripping onto his biceps like your life depended on it, legs desperately trying to shut, hips thrashing around, you honestly felt like you could pass out at any second from the over stimulation.
Gojo noticed this, and as much as he wanted to keep fucking you until you were overflowing with his seed, he didnt need you passing out- not yet at least. So he stilled his hips with a huff “Fine, fine, stop bein’ a crybaby, calm down.” and although his words were a bit sour, he made up for it as he rubbed your sides gently. He knew he was being mean, but he hoped his soft touches were enough to remind you that at the end of the day, he truly did care about you and your needs. And he would never actually hurt you (unless you wanted him too). Besides, even if he couldnt fuck you, he had plenty of other ideas.
A breath of relief left your lungs as you tried to catch your breath, chest heaving up and down as you babbled out ‘thank you’s’, head rolling back again. You knew you probably only had a couple minutes to prepare yourself for another couple rounds of ruthless fucking, so you tried your best to stable yourself quickly. Your body was so worn out though, it was proving to be quite the challenge. Gojo wasnt even moving and small whimpers and gasps were still making their way from your throat.
“Relax, relaxxx gorgeous, im waiting for ya’” He continued to lovingly stroke your sides, hands moving lower to massage your thighs. He was being so sweet now, it was making your head spin. So much so that you didnt even notice his hand leaving your thigh and the rustling noise of him looking for something in your nightstand. But honestly, you should have known better than to trust that he was truly going to wait for you to catch your breath. You know how much he loves to push your bodies limits, and how much he loves to see you sob. You were a fool for thinking anything different. So imagine your surprise when you felt the buzzing of your mini wand right against your clit, your entire body immediately jerking up, only to be slammed down against his chest with one strong arm.
“Ah ah ah, youre not going a-anywhere~” Satoru had to hold his own self together as he felt your heat get impossibly tighter around him, almost making him choke on his words from how amazing it felt.
“fuck! ah! S-satoruuuu” you nearly screamed out, eyes squeezed shut. You bit your lip hard enough to draw blood as you thrashed around. “ahh! nghh! i cant i cant i c-cant!” You were sobbing uncontrollably, shaking your head back and forth while you tried to grip on to anything you could reach for support, which happened to be Gojos arm with one hand and reaching up to the back of his scalp with the other, pulling him close to you. Your body convulsed as he toyed your clit with the vibrator, every time he moved it right to left your pussy would throb and squeeze, making him groan out into the crook of your neck.
“F-fuck baby, you keep squeezin’ me like that n’ im gonna cum early” he moaned into your skin, relishing in the way you felt around him. You were too cock drunk to even call him out on his use of the word ‘early’-you had been fucking for at least an hour and a half, the fuck did he mean ‘early’? But his words were instantaneously lost in the heat of the moment, both of your groans and cries filling any empty space in the room.
It only took a couple moments before you felt the pressure of an impending orgasm start to build, but it felt different than usual. If you had any will left in your body at all, you would have warned Gojo, but you couldnt even get a sentence out- the only thing spilling from your lips was babbled nonsense, cursing, the occasional slip of his name, and gasps for air. You felt like your entire existence was about to snap, and all you could do was hold on to Gojo and hope he wouldnt let you fall. Luckily for you, he had just as tight of a grip on you as you did him.
“S-Shit! ‘Pussy is s-so damn tight” He moaned out, watching the mirror as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, mouth agape as you panted loudly. “Mmm-mmm, Gonna cum for me sweetie? Yeah T-Toru can tell, let it a-lllll out for me baby” He was on the edge as well while he watched you convulse on his length, and he swore hes never felt you tighten up this much. He couldnt control hisself when his hips began to involuntarily thrust into you, muttering a small “sorry gorgeous, g-gotta-“
His words went completely unnoticed by you, too caught up in your own painful pleasure to even recognize that he was speaking. At this point you werent even breathing while he thrusted into you, just shaking violently as tears fell from your cheeks down to your breasts. The coil was about to snap, and you werent sure if you were even going to be alive after.
Satorus eyes followed your tears, watching as more dripped with each thrust onto your perfect breasts, trailing down your body til they reached where the two of your were connected and mixing with your wetness. The sight borderline made him whimper, deciding he had to have a taste as he cranes his neck down to lick up the side of your cheek, groaning loudly at the salty taste of your pretty tears. “Fuck! g-gonna fill you up princess~” He squeezed you tighter as he fucked into you even faster, pressing the vibrator harder into your cunt.
And that was the final straw, your body tensed up as he continued fucking you, releasing a squeal from your throat as you squirted and gushed around his cock. Body twitching and nails digging so deep into Satorus skin that it was sure to leave marks. It felt like it lasted forever, making a mess between you and your lover, creating a puddle on the floor to clean up later.
As soon as your orgasm finished washing over you, you were out like a light, going limp as Gojos eyes widened, looking at the mess you made. “Holy s-shit” he groaned loudly, room now only filled with his own moaning and the wet slapping noise of your ass clapping against his soaked thighs. Not much longer after that, he filled you up just as he said he was going to, spurting rope after rope of his cum deep inside you.
After giving himself a couple of seconds to come down, he turned the vibe off and say it to the side, slowly lifting you off of his softening cock. He really was planning on fucking you for longer, but you were obviously worn the fuck out, body still shaking as he held you close to him. He turned you so you were now being cradled in his arms, head lying against his chest as you slowly came back to life. You stirred slightly, gaining his attention
“There she is, you did so good for me baby” Gojo cooed, brushing some strands of hair away from your face as he kissed your forehead with a smile. “tell me when youre ready and ill get us all cleaned up, kay?”
((sooooo this ended up being way longer than i anticipated oopsies, got a little carried away. but once again please be nice this is my first ever fanfic and smut in general, but im open to constructive criticism!! ik i prob have a lot to work on but thats okay :) hopefully some of you enjoyed it!! reblogs and comments are always appreciated <3))
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luveline · 2 months
Note
what abouttttt
zombie!steve and reader (at any point tho i feel like this would make sense after the college got attacked) are like scavenging in a pharmacy and steve wanting to make his girl laugh puts on the stupidest prescription glasses that he found near the front desk but then? reader comes over and hes like have you always had that mole? and he refuses to take them off even tho theyre far sighted which makes the trek back to camp slightly unsafe but he cant stop staring at readers face because hes never seen it so clear
thank you for your request<3
“I really need some chocolate,” you lament, pulling at his hand as you drift together down the aisle toward the snack section. “If they don’t have any, I’m going to kill myself.” 
“You better kill me first.” Steve pulls you back. “Seriously. Have the decency.” 
“Find me some candy and I won’t have to.” 
“Find yourself some candy, loser. I need some painkillers. I’m sick of dealing with you.” 
You push at his arm. He resists the urge to yank you in for a kiss, letting your hand drop to part ways at the top of the aisle. He makes for the back of the store where the in-store pharmacy signs hangs half off of the wall, green glass shattered like coarse sugar grains underfoot. Steve cringes, clearing a path to the desk with the side of his shoe. 
“You okay?” you call from a few feet away, unseen but close enough to be heard clearly. 
“Fine! Signs of candy?” 
“No,” you say dejectedly. He nearly misses it. 
Steve’ll find you some chocolate if it’s the last thing he does, but first, he needs painkillers. His knee aches like he’s been beaten, a funny burning string of pain lining the underside of his leg every other step. Ideally he’d like some codeine, but more realistically he wants advil. He doesn’t know where to start, never does, but if you come over he’ll pretend he understands what things go where. 
He’s lucky. He bends down and finds a bottle of motrin on the floor, looking up to find a shelf teeming with it. “Yes,” he says, ecstatic. Things rarely ever go so obviously his way. “Fucking yes.” 
He shoves as many bottles of tylenol in his various pockets as he can. Then he looks around for anything interesting. He’s sure there’s a ton of things you could benefit from. He’s been wondering about epi-pens and emergency precautions, because god forbid something happen to you he couldn’t correct. Love makes him worry. You’re worrisome, you’re so sad lately, he knows you’re a few days from another burnout. He can’t handle it —he’ll take care of you, but seeing you down for the count hurts every single time. 
He leans heavily on the counter and lets himself think. Absent-minded, he reaches out to spin the intact rungs of a glasses stand, prescription lenses shining against the glare of the sun seeping in from the store’s caved metal roof. “Plus two,” he says to himself, “plus three, what?” He grabs an obscene pair and shoves it up his nose, blinking in surprise at the way his vision blurs. 
He turns the display to the mirrored back and grins. 
“Hey, loser? You okay?” he calls. 
You don’t answer. 
“Babe?” he says sharply. 
“Oh, you’re talking to me?” 
“That’s not funny.” 
You appear at the end of the aisle with an arm full of chips, less blurry the closer you get. “Sorry. Don’t call me loser then. Oh, gosh, what are you wearing?” 
“Gosh,” he mimics with a laugh. “I’ve no idea.” 
His poor attempt at a southern accent makes you laugh too. “Nice glasses, Harrington. I didn’t know you needed them.” Steve crossed his arms in front of him. You drop the chips beside his sleeve and station yourself as he had, a mirror, your smile charmed as you push the glasses up his nose. “You look ridiculous. Here,” —you take a nicer pair from the rack and open the legs— “swap them.” 
He would, but he’s looking at you, and he’s thinking, What?
You move your head away from him instinctively, but ultimately let him hold your face, his thumb on the hill of your chin, fingers curled over your cheek. He can see the little silver scars of a cruel hand around your mouth, and the cut on your cheek from a surprising wooden beam, but what he’s never noticed is the pigmentation under your mouth. The little wrinkles by your eyes. Hell, he’s never realised your eyelashes looked quite like that until now. 
“Hey–” he starts, though you’re already ducking your chin. “Wait–”
“Stop, you’re staring.” 
“Yeah, I’m staring. You always had that freckle?” 
“Long as I can remember.” 
“Wait,” he pleads, trying to grab your chin as you step away. 
“I need chocolate, Steve, I’m not kidding. You can do whatever you want to me if you help me find some.” 
“You will come to love that decision very soon.” 
You giggle like crazy. Steve swaps the less attractive glasses for the ones you’ve recommended and follows you down the aisle to help you look for your sugar fix. He nearly trips over a split can of condensed milk, and you might act like you don’t like him, but you catch him by the arm and allow him to hold on. 
He isn’t great at helping you look, but he finds a couple of bars of cooking chocolate in the baking essentials aisle and decides it’s good enough to head home with. You eat lines of it as you walk, your fingers pressed between Steve’s, a little dab of chocolate he wouldn’t have noticed otherwise in the corner of your lips. 
“You sure you don’t want some?” you ask between bites. 
He’s gonna watch you eat the whole thing. “No thanks. I’m saving room for Robin’s artichoke heart and refried bean combo.” 
“Would you take those off?” Your cheek twitches as you smile. Your eyes glow with affection. “You can barely walk.” 
“You don’t like them?” 
“They really, really suit you, actually. I love them,” you say, to his secret delight. 
“So what’s the problem?” 
He trips over his own feet and has to grab your arm to stop from falling. “That’s the problem,” you say, in love enough to smile even when the world has gone to shit for you a thousand times. Your eyes follow down his nose to his lips. 
Steve grins and ducks forward for a kiss. “Oh, sorry,” he says when the glasses bump your nose. 
You laugh and touch under his chin to help him out. You taste like chocolate still as he kisses against the seam of your lips, a quick but blissfully deep kiss, a handful of seconds where Steve feels like you’re one in the same before he pulls away, just enough to see both of your eyes. 
“What’re you looking at?” you ask. 
“You have chocolate on your nose,” he lies. “Want me to get it?” 
“Yes,” you say bashfully. 
He kisses the tip of your nose, then the corner of your lip. 
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jcoleemic · 3 months
Text
am i making you feel sick? - L. Castellan
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summary: when percy arrives in the infirmary in critical condition from a scorpion sting, you find out who was behind it all
warnings: book spoilers, betrayal, angst, that's literally it
side note: kinda got the inspo from the song, bc the whole betrayal of it all "am i making you feel sick?" kinda gagged me tbh and this idea was then conjured up so... i hope this isn't trash lol
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you sat in the hermes cabin for close to an hour now, having no clue where your boyfriend was. he'd been m.i.a. the whole day, and even when you had asked chris about his whereabouts, you'd come up empty handed.
the soft blue plaid of his sheets brought you comfort as you traced the yellow lines that ran vertically down the expanse of his comforter. they smelled of luke's cologne, warm and soft yet masculine, it matched his personality perfectly.
an hour bled into another thirty minutes, and by then, you were dozing off. without worrying about being bothered by any of the other kids in the cabin, you snuggled up into his comforter, letting your eyes fall closed. he's just busy today, you told yourself as your breathing fell even. the hermes cabin was a lovely environment to fall asleep in, despite its constant chaos. the warm environment reminded you of your grandparents house, one that you probably wouldn't visit again.
but, just before you could fully drift off, heavy and fast footsteps boomed on the oak floors, startling you up into a seated position. you originally thought that it had finally been luke, but you were wrong. it was chris, instead. "we need you in the infirmary," he spoke breathlessly, yet you could hear the subtle break in his voice. the urgency made your heart jump into your throat, and no words were exchanged as you jumped out of the comfort of luke's bed, following chris.
upon arriving at the infirmary, most of your siblings stood outside. it seemed as though you were the last one there, and you really wondered just how bad it was. your brother marcus was head counselor for your cabin, a year older than you. he was the first person you saw when you barged through the doors, barely holding it for poor chris behind you. "what happened?"
"a scorpion stung percy. annabeth brought him in just ten minutes ago," he said, hanging his head down low. your heart sank at the news of the young demigod being in such imminent danger. "what- how? is he okay?" you felt the bile in your stomach reach your throat. something felt off about this, and you didn't know what but it made goosebumps rise on your skin, yet your hands grew clammy.
marcus nodded, but his eyes grew teary and cloudy before dropping eye contact with you. that didn't help the growing uneasiness in your core. if he wasn't going to give you a straight answer, you pushed past him to go see percy or annabeth, two kids you knew would be straight up with you.
you saw the pale boy laying on a cot, with chiron and annabeth at his side. no other campers, except for a few of your siblings were in the room, so you rushed to percy's side. because he had grown close with luke, he had grown close with you too. he was your unofficial little brother, and the sight of him so sickly made your heart clench.
"hey, perce. how are you feeling?" you asked, bending down to push some of his curls out of his face. his forehead felt hot and sweaty. he just shrugged, not wanting to give much of an answer. "better, but tired."
you nodded, pushing a few more curls away from his face before deciding to let the poor boy rest. looking away from him, you looked at the worrisome faces of annabeth, chiron, and mr. d. everyone was here, but luke. where was luke.
before the question could even leave your mind and out of your lips, chiron put a hand on your shoulder. "come, child. i need to speak with you." he held something of sorrow in his eyes while looking into yours. he shifted his gaze to chris, an unspoken sentence shared between the two of them, that immediately had the boy following you out alongside chiron.
they led you outside of the infirmary and to your cabin, which was a little less than five feet away. their silence was making the pit in your stomach grow larger by the second. you decided then that you couldn't take it any longer, so you spoke up. "what's going on?" your voice wavered more than you would've liked it to, but it got the point across.
you looked from chris to chiron, and noticed tears were falling from chris' face. he looked down at his shoes pitifully, his hands coming up to wipe away the stray tears. that only made some of your own well up in your eyes. "chiron, please."
"the scorpion that attacked percy..." he trailed, "it was luke's. he tried to kill him, and he is the one that stole the masterbolt. he's been working with kronos this whole time."
his words pierced your skin, yet bounced off all at the same time. your immediate reaction was to laugh in disbelief, but your eyes betrayed you as silent tears started to fall. "no, he wouldn't do that, i know him," you argued, watching the way chiron sighed deeply and hung his head low. chris' eyes met yours and you could see the glossy distance in them, making your heart shatter. he pulled you into a hug, much like luke would, and initially you tried to fight him off.
"you're lying," you spewed at chiron, like hot venom coming out of your mouth. "chris, stop crying, get off of me! he's lying, he's lyi-"
it was then that your words caught up in your throat, your limbs going numb at your poor attempt to pry chris' arms off of your body. the sobs that left your throat were those that only happened when you lost a loved one, and in a way you did. "i truly, am, so sorry," chiron whispered, pursing his lips as he watched you cry in chris' arms.
maybe you should've seen this coming. after all, he hated the gods for what they did to their children; sending them off on dangerous quests, never seeing or talking to them. just the pure fact that they ever conceived of their many children that they would just neglect made luke angry.
but out of all this hatred, no matter how much he despised the gods, he was still luke. your ever-loving, sweet boyfriend that wouldn't ever hurt you. so when the realization hit, it hit hard. not your luke, anyone but him. the golden child, the best swordsman at camp.
am i making you feel sick?
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cal-flakes · 10 months
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╰┈➤ mean!rafe shouts at you
warnings: rafe being mean (still hot tho fr), swearing. again, my shitty writing cause it’s been a while.
summary: rafe comes home with bloodied knuckles, still super angry from a fight he got himself in, yells at you when you ask about it.
you giggle to yourself as your eyes follow the childish cartoon cat on the television. this pretty much sums up your night, sitting on the couch enjoying the shows that bring out your inner child. your boyfriend, rafe, had gone out a couple hours earlier saying very little about where he was going, apart from he needed to sort out some business, whatever that meant.
rafe cameron point blank refused to let his angel know anything about what he actually does, claiming he didn’t want to fill her pretty little head with worrisome thoughts.
within the first hour of his absence, you had managed to change positions about fourteen times, due to not being able to get comfortable. eventually settling for laying across the couch, your legs sprawled over the opposite arm rest.
just as you fell into a deep concentration a frighteningly loud clatter erupted from the porch, provoking a squeal from your lips. turning your head curiously, a dishevelled looking rafe stood with his back resting against the door, chest heaving.
“rafe? are you okay?” standing up, you made your way over to your boyfriend, worried he might be hurt.
justifying your anxious look, your eyes met his hands as they fell by his sides. dried blood and dark purple splotches patterned his knuckles. your eyes widen and turn to rafe’s face, where he avoids your gaze, knowing he’s done exactly what he said he wouldn’t. make you worry.
“hey baby, go sit back down, i’ll be through in a minute.” he orders softly, motioning with his hands for you to return to your spot on the couch. before you can say a word he rushes to the kitchen, depositing his jacket over the back of the unused armchair adjacent to the television.
unnerved by his ignorant attitude, you hesitantly choose to follow him to the kitchen, determined to make sure he’s okay.
“rafe please, tell me what happened” you spoke apprehensively, well aware that rafe doesn’t like you to ask these things, but sometimes you simply couldn’t help it.
letting out an irritated sigh, he rubs a palm across his face. “i told you to sit down y/n. i’ll be through in a minute” he almost growled through gritted teeth.
moving closer, you carefully reach to grab his hand in an attempt to help. sucking in a harsh breath, he hastily snatches his hand out of your grasp. “did you get in a fight again?” you whispered quietly, cautious of his answer.
“i’ve told you not to ask fucking questions y/n! will you please go and sit your ass down before i fucking make you.” the sheer volume of his voice is enough to leave the hairs on your spine standing. deciding against pushing further, you scurry back through to the living room, trying to hold back tears as you go.
part two <3
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pigeonpeach · 4 months
Text
Mother and Father moments.
Aka more mommy reader x Arlecchino! This time with comfort!
Perhaps you sometimes forget your husband is a harbinger. She’s just so kind to the chikdren at times. Your presence has helped her become more patient and gentle with them. You had been with her for awhile now. Lynette and Lyney had grown up into full on adults, going on missions leaving you to worry. But they came back each time. As your original set of kids grew so did the dangers. You knew they were raised for this yet your heart still hurts at the thought. Unfortunately some didn’t make it. Some may think its hard to care for so many children emotionally but it didn’t matter to you, you felt hurt when they were. Each and every one of them you raised and cared for became your child in their eyes. Lucky your husband despite not being the most emotional vulnerable still let you cry over each. Her gentle whispers reassuring that it was not your fault.
She knows your heart, she knows its that empathy and vulnerability that strengthens your bond with the children, sometimes she envies that. But she still tries to make up for it to the best she can.
So when The twins and Freminet were imprisoned you became worrisome. She with held that it was for a mission because she knew you would demand to join them. Still she held you.
“Could I send tea bags to Lynette? Letters? Oh god poor Freminet he always loves diving! He can’t dive anywhere!” You paced as you were planning a gift to be sent. She watched you with a smile.
“I assure you they will be fine. They’re barely serving a few months for a petty crime that likely won’t end up on their record. They have each other afterall. You know Lyney, he will not let any of them get hurt.” She said calmly,
“Still he’s my boy and I worry about him!” You say panicked.
“And the prophecy! Oh god they’re so far down underwater they wouldn’t have a way out!” You paced even more as her smile faded.
“My love,” she held you in her arms making you still, “I assure you, everything will be okay. They’ll be back when their sentence is over, and they’ll have all sorts of stories to tell. Freminet can handle himself, and Lyney is a good protector of the two. They will be fine. As for the prophecy, I have my own methods ready.” She said kissing the back of your neck. You sighed as you finally calmed down.
“You’re right. I need to relax..” you say melting into her touch. “I just… oh I can’t help it. Lyney was the first to call me mom.” Arlecchino smiled as you looked at one of the baby pictures of the twins.
“You’re always their mother. With you waiting here I’m sure they’ll strive to make it back.” She says calmly.
“They better.” You huff. “That Wriothesley better be kind to my kids otherwise-“
“Relax dear. Don’t think anymore about the impossible. Besides, I’m sure they’ll be treated as any other prisoner is. Afterall, Fontaine is currently under alot of pressure, I’m sure he wouldn’t be confident enough to pull a stunt like that.” She says. “And if he did, then I’ll handle it.” You sigh in relief as she holds you closer to herself.
“You’re right I know I know.”
“If you would like you can send them a letter. Of course you can’t send any gifts but you’re more than welcome to wri-“ Arlecchino stopped as she watched you pick up a pen and looked for a piece of paper. “Here.” She handed you a piece. Quickly you started to write down your thoughts as she smiled behind you. “You should slow down. They might not be able to read your writing otherwise.”
“You’re sure i can’t send gifts? Not even a blanket? Oh Lynette hates being cold! That place must be so cold too, so far down under the sea.. oh my poor baby.” You moped.
“I’m certain there’s accomdations for such. I doubt they’d let their staff down their freeze. Besides I hear it can actually get too hot down there.”
“But what about Freminet then! He isn’t good handling intense heat. He burnt his hand on the kettle once and he’s never trusted them since. He always uses a oven mitt or glove even when its not necessary.” Your fingers tapped worriedly.
“Darling please try to not assume the worst. Our children are not hostages right now. They simply are being disciplined for a small amount of time. Their sentences are only two or so months.” She repeated trying to soothe you. You pouted even more.
“Still I’ll miss them. I even bought a new dessert book to try and make some for Lynette. She always comes by to visit when I even imply there’s new desserts. She’s become my little taste tester.” You smile. “She doesn’t smile but her tail wags impatiently when she sees me preparing a new sweet.”
“You know them so well.” She smiles and brushes your hair, helping to alleviate some tension held within your shoulders. “I’m sure they miss you too. You know they wouldn’t want you to worry so much about them.”
“I’m aware. Still I love them all so much.. it hurts that I cannot protect them all from everything in life.” You lift your head to look at her as her arm rests on your waist.
“I know my dear. Its why you’re the finest choice for me.” She kisses you. “Now just relax and I’ll write the letter for you.”
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strang3lov3 · 11 months
Text
A Learning Process
Extra Soft!Joel Miller x Reader
Summary: Your whole life, everyone told you motherhood would come easy. So far, it has not. You struggle to connect with your baby boy, Francis. You struggle to console him, to breastfeed him, everything. Joel has pretty much taken care of your son by himself in the two months since you gave birth. Today is your first day alone with your baby boy, and it ends in disaster. Does Joel also think you’re a failure of a mother? Takes place in Jackson, sometime after TLOU
Word Count: 5k
Warnings: emotional, emotional breakdown, talks of giving birth, breastfeeding, dirty diapers, taking a bath with Joel, pet names, vulnerable reader, postpartum depression and anxiety, undefined loving relationship with Joel
A/N: Just thought of this story, thought you could all use some sweet soft Joel :)
Edit: forgot to add this is loosely based on this request from @guiltgoreglory !!!
If you like this story, please leave me a comment or reblog telling me what you think!!🩷🩷
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It’s a quiet December morning, the sunlight is just beginning to dance and sparkle on the snow outside. You’re in an old rocking chair Maria gifted you, holding your baby boy close to your chest. He’s quiet for once, usually he’s fussy when you hold him. You’re morose, wondering if it was the right choice to bring him into this world, with you as his mother.
His name is Francis. You gave birth to him two months ago in October. 
It was a chilly April day when you realized you were late, not having a period since January. In a panic, you called Joel into your shared bedroom. 
Those two words hit him like a ton of bricks. “I’m late,” you whispered, eyes full of worry and tears. Your words were bitter, tasting like the bile on your tongue. 
“You’re what?” 
“I think I’m pregnant, Joel,”
Joel sat down on the bed with you, his head spinning. He was quiet, too quiet. But not angry like you feared he would be. 
Jackson was a great place to raise a child, but Jackson was still a town on Earth, which for the past twenty-odd years, has been overtaken by a brain-controlling fungus. There was no guarantee that having a baby in Jackson would be 100% risk free. 
“But we’ll take care of it. I want you to come to the doctor with me tomorrow,” you started. “And we’ll deal with–”
“No,” Joel interrupted. He looked at you with his big brown eyes, so sad and worrisome. “I can’t let you do that. Not safe.”
Abortion is what he was referring to. It’s not that Joel felt abortion was wrong in any sense, he was the last person on Earth who had any right to discuss right and wrong. Abortion was risky, even in the safety of Jackson. And he couldn’t risk letting you get hurt, or worse. He was right, and you knew it. You didn’t need any convincing. “I’m sorry,” he said. 
“I don’t know that I’m ready to be a mom, Joel,” you breathed shakily. “I can’t do this.”
He held your hand in his own, so big and calloused from years of backbreaking work. “I’ll be with you every step of the way,” he whispered. “You didn’t get into this all by yourself.”
It was true. Joel was the one who did this to you, anyway. He was your person, or whatever you could call him. Not really your lover, not officially at least. He was just your guy, your companion in everything. And you slept together. It just was a one time, two time, okay maybe all the time kind of thing. 
Contraception wasn’t easy to come by. If you were lucky enough to come by some condoms, they were most definitely expired and probably useless. You’d be better off with the pull out method, which was never that great of a birth control method. 
You and Joel would often forgo pulling out, getting too caught up in the heat of the moment. You loved each others’ bodies passionately. And well, your bodies did what human bodies tend to do. They created a baby. 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
Since giving birth to Francis in October, Joel had taken on the role of sole caretaker to your baby boy. It’s not what you had planned, exactly. It’s kind of just how it happened. 
Joel did his best to teach you how to swaddle Francis, but you could never quite get it right. He’d flail his limbs too much and you couldn’t wrap him quick enough. Joel also tried to help you learn to breastfeed, but Francis would never latch to your nipple. 
You and Francis didn’t quite connect, the way most new moms do with their babies. You’d seen women around Jackson with their babies, smiling and singing to them. Their babies looked so happy, so at peace with their mamas. 
And it made you feel so isolated. You could never console him, never. It seemed like he only ever cried in your arms. You and Francis were like oil and water. Sometimes you wondered if you were even his mother. He wanted just about nothing to do with you, and everything to do with Joel. 
Even the pregnancy was difficult. There was no glow to your body, like everyone told you there would be. You felt ugly and swollen, and you were in constant pain. Francis’ favorite activity in utero was to do somersaults, over and over and over, which meant you’d puke your brains out, over and over and over. Joel was patient with you, of course. You were growing his child. Didn’t press you for sex or make you do anything you weren’t comfortable with. He’d just hold your hair back and promise you that everything would be alright, it wouldn’t be like this forever.
Joel, on the other hand, had no problem connecting with his baby boy. Francis and Joel were thick as thieves. Francis was silent in his arms, save for the cute little coos he’d let out while sleeping. Francis didn’t cry when Joel changed his diapers like he did with you. Francis let Joel bottle feed him, but refused to let you. 
It broke your heart. 
And it broke Joel’s too. 
To add insult to injury, your relationship with Joel was dwindling. He was there for you, just distant. And you were distant too. You knew it could happen, lots of couples lose sight of one another after a baby. You just didn’t expect it to feel so lonesome and severe. 
You didn’t play games with Ellie like you used to. Didn’t cook together. Didn’t touch each other. Didn’t even go to bed at the same time, because Joel was always with Francis. You’d go to sleep before Joel, silently weeping at all of your shortcomings as a mother and partner, or whatever you were.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
“You’ll be alright today,” Joel says sweetly as he dresses himself. He speaks to you in a soft and gentle tone, soothing you. 
“I’m just nervous,” you admit, still rocking Francis. He looks just like Joel. He’s got big brown eyes, just like his daddy. He’s even got the same dimple as Joel on his right cheek. 
“I know you are,” he says, pulling on and tying his boots. He’s nervous too, if he’s being honest with himself. He knows motherhood has not been easy on you. It’s not that he thinks you can’t handle yourself and Francis, he just knows you’re high strung and anxious. “It’s just a couple hours. Tommy put me on the short shift today.” Everyone contributed to patrol in Jackson, and today is Joel’s first day back since the birth of Francis. 
You smile weakly, but wear a brave face. He’s right, it’s just a couple hours. It’ll be fine. Joel kisses your cheek, then bends down to kiss Francis’s soft head. “I’ll be back soon,” he promises. 
And then he’s gone. 
The silence is unnatural, almost eerie. You feel your anxiety in your fingertips as you mindlessly twiddle your fingers against Francis’ back. The sun is brighter now, and it’s time to get the day started. 
Here goes nothing.
“Alright, baby. What do you think, eggs and toast for breakfast?” you whisper to Francis. 
Francis just looks at you and coos with his amber eyes, his mouth suckling on his pacifier. He looks so much like his daddy. 
“Sounds yummy to me too,” you reply to his lack of an answer. As you shift in your seat and maneuver Francis so that his head is tucked by your neck and you’re supporting his bum, he begins to whine a little. “It’s okay, my angel. It’s okay. Mama’s got you. We’re gonna have a good day today, baby.” 
You bounce him a little, soothing him. He quiets down. You make your way to the staircase, your sweet boy wrapped in your arms. 
The stairs are…daunting. They’re steep, rickety, and old. They’re hard wood, but you were smart and took your socks off to eliminate any possibility of slipping. But still, it’s scary. For a second, you consider sitting and moving down the steps the way a toddler would. But you wave that idea off. Don’t be ridiculous.
Deep breath in, deep breath out. You take a step. And then another. Slowly, ever so slowly. Another now. One more. 
You don’t know how it happened. You’re suddenly at the bottom of the stairs, your foot twisted and underneath your body, pinned to the hard stairs. Francis is screaming in your ear, still pressed to your chest. 
You move your foot out from under you with a wince and before even checking to see if it’s broken, and hold Francis in front of you. 
He’s screaming, wailing. His face is fire engine red as he cries. You quickly examine his little body to check for any scrapes or bruises or cuts. Luckily, there are none. 
You do your best to soothe the little boy. “It’s okay, angel. It’s okay. Mama’s got you,” You tell him over and over that it’s okay, but you don’t know that for sure. Did he hit his head? Did you shake him? 
Francis is inconsolable. You look around you for anything to grab to keep him calm, luckily his pacifier is in reach. You place it in his mouth, he spits it out. You do it again. Nothing. 
You’ve got this. Just breathe. 
“Okay, okay. No paci. That’s fine, baby,”
Francis’ cries never let up. He’ll tire himself out eventually. Right?
With Francis still shrieking in your ear, you check your foot. It’s black and blue, already swelling. You try to sit up a bit, put some pressure on it. The pain shoots through your entire body. You don’t know if it’s twisted, sprained, or broken. 
What you do know is that you’re stuck. You’re alone, with no way to call for help. No way to move from the steps. Joel’s short shift might as well be infinite now. 
A few minutes pass as you just focus on your breathing. 
Breathe, is what Joel told you when you found out you were pregnant. You panicked and hyperventilated as he wrapped his strong arms around you, bringing you back down to Earth.
Breathe, is what Joel told you when you spent hours vomiting into the toilet, Frankie never letting up on his somersaults. He held your hair back, rubbed circles into the tense flesh of your shoulders. 
When you were in your long and arduous labor, screaming in agony and gripping his hand. Breathe. 
Breathe. When you couldn’t soothe your son, and you broke down in tears of frustration. Joel took Francis from you and walked into another room to give you a break from his cries. 
You just breathe. 
Finally, the ear piercing shrieks flying from Francis’ mouth subside after a while. You don’t know how long exactly, maybe an hour. He’s still crying, but it’s a different tone. He’s hungry. 
Might as well give it a shot. You can do this. 
You lift up your shirt, adjusting Francis so he’s flush with your body. You guide his mouth to one of your breasts, encouraging him to wrap his lips around your nipple.
You can tell he’s trying, just can’t quite figure out how to latch. You do your best to help him, maneuvering his little body and your breast to ease his struggle. 
“Come on, Francis. You’ve got this, buddy,” you coo. He seems to be relaxed a little by your voice. He almost latches, but not quite. “It’s just you and me, sweetheart.”
Maybe he’s uncomfortable on this side. You flip him over and offer your other breast. He can’t quite latch there either. 
He’s whining, crying. He’s frustrated, you’re frustrated. He’s hungry, you’re hungry. 
“Please, please, please,” you beg him softly. “You can do this, baby. Just eat for mama.”
He still won't latch, but you don’t stop trying. Not for hours. 
Francis’ hunger pangs have seemed to peter out, now. He’s asleep in your arms, most likely tired himself out from crying so much. You worry if he’ll lose his voice by the end of today. 
Your ass is sore, so is your back and your foot. But you savor the peace and quiet despite the pain in your body. 
You wonder how many hours it's been. You try to tell by the way the shadows on the floor change with the sun, but you can’t make out much. Maybe the shadows have moved, maybe not. You can’t tell. Time doesn’t even feel real at this point. Today is agonizingly long.
You rest your head against the banister, closing your eyes. Joel told you once to take advantage of your sleeping son.
“Get some sleep,” Joel mumbled to you. It was maybe a week after giving birth to Francis and you were peering into his crib with heavy eyelids, afraid that if you slept he’d disappear. “He’ll be fine.” 
“I know, I just,” you struggled to form a sentence. You wanted to make sure your baby boy was alright. You hated leaving him. 
“He’ll be fine,” Joel repeated, his gruff voice firm yet sympathetic. “Go to bed.”
Joel helped you up, your body still so tender after Francis’ delivery. You winced at the ache in your muscles. “It’s okay. I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he whispered to you. 
You were in a trance, being led to your bed by Joel. It was like your feet weren’t even moving, just floating along and walking on nothing. Joel helped you in bed, adjusted the pillows under your head and pulled a blanket up over your shoulders.
He stepped away from the bed and made his way to the door, turning to give you one last look. Your gaze was still fixed on Francis, unwavering. 
Joel sighed and walked back to the bed, this time his side. The bed creaked with each of his movements. He flipped you over gently so you couldn’t stare at Francis any longer, your head on his chest. 
“Joel,” you protested. “Our baby.”
“Francis is fine,” he mumbled. “You need to sleep. I’ll watch him. Okay, mama? Mom sleeps when baby sleeps. That’s the rule.”
“I can’t sleep, though. I have to watch him,”  Your anxiety wouldn’t leave. Joel felt you fight and struggle against watching Francis. You were so restless. 
“Don’t sleep then,” Joel said. “Just rest your eyes. Can you do that for me?”
“Just rest my eyes?”
“Yeah, sweetheart. Just give them a break,”
You groaned. “Fine,” you grumbled. You’d give them a five minute break and go back to watching Francis. “Just for a little bit. And then I’m gonna watch him.”
“Alright, honey. You do that. Hush, now. Relax,” Joel commanded you ever so sweetly. “Just close your eyes, mama.”
You did as he said, and he brought his hand to your head, dragging his fingertips through your scalp. His fingers trailed to your neck, then your back. You melted into him, turning into a puddle in his arms. 
Within minutes, you were asleep, snoring quietly. 
Joel knew how to read people, the right words to say to sway them in the direction he wanted them to go. You were no different than anyone else. Now, he wasn't proud of manipulating you into slumber, but he felt it was justified given the circumstances.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
You wake up to a putrid smell, your ass basically numb underneath you. 
“No, no,” you groan. You adjust Francis, and he begins screaming when you peek into his diaper. The kid does not like being woken up. “Fuck.” you cry. 
It’s a bad one, the mess in his diaper. Francis wails in your ear as you assess the situation. You can’t just leave him in his mess. 
You sigh, taking off your shirt. You set it down next to you on the staircase. 
Francis screams louder when you take off his diaper and set it on the ground. He hates being changed. “I know, bud. This sucks for me too,” you sympathize with him. Then, using your shirt, you wipe him clean as best as you can. It’s not perfect, but it will have to do. 
“Please, don’t cry. Don’t cry, baby. It’s okay,” 
Francis is relentless. He doesn’t let up. You just hold him, his excrement is on your skin and clothes. You’re gagging as your eyes begin to water. 
Your ears are ringing and sore from all the noise. Your back is aching worse than it ever has, worse than when you backpacked across the country with Joel and Ellie. Your arms are full of pins and needles and going numb, you’re afraid you may drop Francis. Your foot is throbbing angrily. 
And then the floodgates fly open. Your tears are spilling, hot and fast. You’re gasping for air, hyperventilating. Francis is shaking with each jolt of your lungs and you try to still yourself, but you’re powerless against your body.
You sob loudly, almost as loud as Francis. You can’t remember the last time you cried this way. All of your frustration, pain, loneliness, leaving your body and washing over it again in heaving sobs and cries. 
“I’m sorry,” you cry to Francis. “I’m so sorry.” Your voice is thick and wet. 
You try your best to breathe, just like Joel told you. But you can’t. You’re gasping uncontrollably and your nose is full of mucous, blocking you from inhaling and exhaling. 
“I’m sorry,” you say again, holding Francis and rocking him. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry. I fucked up. I’m so sorry, Francis.” 
You repeat it like a mantra. You apologize to your little boy over and over and over again, for hours.
“I’m so sorry, Francis. You deserve better, sweet baby,” 
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
“I was thinking we’d do soup for lunch. Nice and warm, what do you think?” Joel’s voice is faint and muffled through the front door. You perk up slightly at the sound of him and Ellie, but you’re too drained to do anything more. 
“Soup sounds good. But I’ll make it. You burnt it last time,” Ellie giggles. Her bubbly voice is music to your tired ears.
“Did not,” Joel says with disdain for Ellies recollection of events. “How do you even burn soup?”
“I don’t know, man. You’re the one who burned it,”
Ellie and Joel giggle as they make their way through the house, then both of their smiles drop at the sight in front of them. 
You’re half naked, covered in feces and your face is puffy with tears. Your foot is black and blue and ugly as you sit and cry, with Francis naked and messy in your arms. 
Joel says nothing, just grabs Francis from your arms and checks him. Then he moves to you, checking your body and your face. 
“Oh my god,” is all he can get out. “Oh my god.”
You just cry. 
“What the fuck happened?”
Your eyes meet Joel’s, then Ellie’s. They’re both so concerned. 
So you explain how you fell down the stairs, right after Joel left. You don’t know how it happened. You explain how neither you nor Francis have eaten. “We’ve been here for hours,” you get out between sobs. 
“Oh my god,” 
Joel’s eyes are glassy, his voice is shaky. He passes Francis to Ellie. “Need your help,” he says to Ellie. “Clean him up. Please.” 
She nods, holding out her arms to take Francis. “I’ve got him,” she whispers, before taking him into the kitchen. 
Joel helps you up, you yelp at the pain. Your foot aches, so do the rest of your bones. “I know. I know,” Joel mumbles. His heart is broken into a million pieces, he’s in disbelief that this even happened to you.  
He helps you into his arms, cradling you as he walks you both up the stairs. You hold onto him tightly, the smell of his clothes and his sweat bring you so much comfort and relief. Your person is here, and he’s gonna make it all better. 
Joel takes you into the bathroom and removes the rest of your clothes, leaving them on the floor. You sit on the toilet seat as he removes his clothing. You feel like such a failure of a mother. 
“Let’s get you cleaned up, now,” he says softly. 
“I can’t shower, Joel. My foot,” you cry. 
“I know, honey’. I’ve got you,” his voice is so quiet, so gentle. “Just for a minute. Just let me rinse you, that’s all.”
Joel lifts you up slowly, being extra conscious of your foot, then lifts you into the tub. He pulls the leg of your injured foot over his hip and wraps one of his strong arms around your waist as he uses the other to turn on the warm water. 
He removes the showerhead and rinses your body, watching all of the dirt and grime leave your skin. Then he places the showerhead back in its spot and switches the water to come out of the bath spout. 
He maneuvers you in his arms to sit down against him in the bath. Your back is pressed to his chest as the warm water begins to fill the bathtub. All that can be heard is the sound of rushing water and your quiet sobbing. 
“Shh,” he hushes you. “It’s okay, now. I’m here. You’re safe,”
“Joel,” you cry, your voice barely above a whisper. 
“I know. I know,” he murmurs. 
He holds you like that as the water fills, your sobs are beginning to die down. Joel leans forward to shut the water off once the tub is full, then grabs a rag and some soap to clean your body. 
Only now does it hit you that this is the first he’s seen you fully since giving birth to his child. You look so different now. You curl up, bringing your knees to your chest. 
“Don’t hide from me,” he whispers as he pushes your knees back down. “I only wanna help you, sweetheart. Let me take care of you now.”
He scrubs your body gently, washing away the disaster of a morning you and Francis shared. He can sense your insecurity still. “So beautiful,” he breathes. He’s so delicate with his movements, washing you so tenderly. So full of love and care. “Always been so beautiful, mama.”
You relax into his touch, your head resting on his chest. He’s so warm. So comforting. He feels like home. He tilts your chin up so your eyes can meet his own, so deep and dark. His fingers trace your features, your chin and your lips and your nose. Your eyes well with tears again. 
“I’m so sorry, Joel,” 
“What for, honey?”
“Today. Francis,”
“Hey, now,” he says. “Wasn’t your fault.”
“It was, though,” You shake your head slightly, your bottom lip is wobbling. “I’m such a terrible mom, Joel. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
Joel’s eyes fill with tears, they begin to fall down his cheeks. “You’re not a terrible mom,” he hushes you with a broken voice. “Don’t say that. Don’t you ever say that.”
Of course, he knows why you think that. He’s been a little overbearing with Francis, not giving you the opportunity to learn to parent the way he should have. “You’re new to this, honey. That’s all,”
You mumble something under your breath, Joel doesn’t hear. All he hears are your quiet whimpers and sniffles as you stare deep into his eyes. He’s never looked so raw before. 
Some silence passes, and finally he speaks. 
“Sarah was an early walker,” he begins. 
Your brows furrow. Joel rarely talks about Sarah, even now. 
“Once she began wobblin’ on those little legs of hers, I knew she’d be trouble. She’s the reason Tommy and I built a fence,” Joel recounted. “You know why?”
“Why?” you whispered. 
“Well, she was an escape artist,” he says. “I’d be out there, doin’ yardwork or grillin’. She’d be in her sandbox, building little castles and whatnot. I thought she was, at least.” Joel pauses for a second, looking away wistfully. 
Joel continues, smiling now. “Anyway. I’d look back to check on her, and poof. She’s gone. And I’d look across the street, and she’s makin’ friends with the Adlers. Workin’ her charm with them into givin’ her cookies and ice cream. She did it all the time,”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Constantly. She did it constantly,” Joel replies. “Girl was trouble. Nothin’ but trouble. So Tommy and I built that fence to keep her from escapin’. ‘Course, didn’t stop Mr. and Mrs. Adler from sneakin’ her treats before dinner.” Joel chuckled at the memory. You did too. 
“She sounds so sweet, Joel,” you say. 
“She was,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper. He’s quiet again for a moment, remembering. “I was runnin’ her a bath one night. Right after she learned to walk, you know? And I’m focused on the water, makin’ sure it’s not too hot and not too cold. She’d kick up a fuss if the temperature wasn’t to her liking. Like, exactly. Had to be perfect.”
You smile. Joel is such a wonderful storyteller, you could listen to him talk all day long. 
“Didn’t even notice her leave the bathroom. Thought she was right behind me. I just heard her tumble down the stairs, screamin’ and cryin’. Tommy grabbed her, drove us to the hospital,”
You nod quietly. 
“So they run tests on her, of course. She’s charmin’ the nurse into giving her suckers and toys. She was fine, thank the lord. No bruises, no scratches. Just fine,”
“That sounds so scary, Joel,” “It was. Terrifying. I cried like a baby the whole night thinkin’ I hurt my little girl,” he says. “But you know what the nurse told me?”
“What’s that?”
“She said that babies are rubber. They’re tough. Resilient. Our little boy is resilient too, you know,” 
You look away from him, picking at your fingernails. The guilt is eating you again. 
“You’re new to this, mama. Go easy on yourself, for christsake. You just had him two damn months ago,”
You barely reply, just kind of mumble. You don’t know how to respond. 
“Hey, look at me,” he tilts your chin and to stare into your eyes. He’s deadly serious. “You’re strong. You’re brave. You’re doin’ fine, mama. Shit happens.”
You still can’t speak. His words help, but it was still a terrible day. Maybe one day you won’t hurt over it. He understands, not forcing you to say anything. 
He just finishes washing your body, then dries you off and wraps you in a towel. He carries you into bed, promising you that he’ll get the town doctor over later to check on your foot. There’s a sandwich waiting for you on your bedside table. Ellie. Such a sweet girl. 
Joel leaves you to clean the mess of your clothes in the bathroom and at the stairs, and you eat your sandwich. You feel so much better getting some food in your system. 
After finishing your sandwich, you hear tapping at the door. “Can we come in? It’s me and Francis,” Ellie says. 
“Yeah, El. Come in,”
Ellie tiptoes in with Francis, his hair is wild and curly. Just like Joel’s. His eyes are big and lost. Ellie looks fatigued. “He didn’t like the bath very much,” she says. “But I did give him a bottle.”
“I hope he didn’t give you too much trouble,” you reply. “He can be a little cranky. Thanks for feeding him, El. You’re so good with him.”
“Yeah, I can handle him. We’re best friends,” she says. You can see in her face that she’s exhausted, though. “Right, Frankie?”
You smile softly, holding out your arms. Ellie places him in your hold gently, being extra careful to support his head and neck. She can see the worry on your face. You still feel so unsure of holding him, being responsible for him.  
“Guess what?” 
You look up at her. “What?” You bounce Francis softly.  
“I’m gonna teach him how to say fuck. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me,” she giggles, that signature smirk on her face. Her eyes are so playful and bright. “And I’m gonna teach him the other ones too. Bitch, ass, asshole, shit, dick, cun-” 
“Don’t you dare corrupt my son, you little shit,” A deep voice interrupts. It’s Joel, standing at the doorway. “Don’t need two demented kids in this house. You’re more than enough.”
“Hey!” Ellie gasps, feigning offense. Ellie sits down on the bed as Joel walks towards her. “I’ll teach your kid whatever words I want, old man. And I’m not demented,” She punches him in the arm playfully. “You are.”
Joel just rolls his eyes, shaking his head. 
You meet his gaze, smiling at him quietly. Francis is asleep in your arms, mumbling and cooing softly. He’s so sweet like this. 
Joel takes Francis from your arms, places him in his crib. Joel looks at Ellie. “Out,” he says. “Mama needs to sleep.”
Ellie gets up to leave, not before giving you a hug. You wrap your arms tightly around the girl, she’s such a good big sister to your baby boy. She doesn’t often hug you, so it’s a welcome surprise. 
Joel meets you on the bed, pulling you close to his body. You rest your head on his chest as he plays with your hair. “Get some sleep, honey,”
You yawn, melting into his body. “Okay, daddy,”
He feels like home.
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heavenlyvision · 5 months
Text
Truth or dare
Word count: 10.3k
Pairing: Kung Lao x F!Reader
A/N: I have done it !!! I have completed my Kung Lao fic, I hope it feeds you all well. It has a lot of dialogue but I think it’s fun, enjoy !!! <33
Summary: Living with both Raiden and Kung Lao is a lot of fun but it can be exhausting, especially since Kung Lao likes to play stupid games.
Warnings: 18+ only, lots of dialogue, smut, dirty talk, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex, no use of y/n, I think that’s all !!!
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Today you have already been to work and done your shift, but that doesn’t mean you’re free from being there, Kung Lao and Raiden love madam Bo’s and you do too but having just finished a shift here and then staying as a customer is worrisome for you. Every time you’re here on your own time you get nervous about being asked to cover for someone or work an extra hour, it’s only happened a handful of times in all your years of working here but still, the fear lingers.
“Hey, you with us?” Kung Lao snaps his fingers in front of your face.
You’ve been staring at him mindlessly, not even taking in anything he was doing or saying, “Yeah, sorry.”
Raiden asks you, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, just thinking.” You give him a polite smile.
“Worrying more like,” Kung Lao amends.
“Was not,” was too.
He argues, “You were, had your worried expression on and everything.”
“Whatever,” you huff.
“Leave her alone Kung Lao,” Raiden is always taking your side when it comes to things like this.
Kung Lao rolls his eyes at the pair of you, “Always teaming up on me,” he exaggerates.
“We do not,” your eyebrows pinch at him.
He whines slightly, “You do, always making me do the dishes and chores–”
“–Maybe if you did them when you are supposed to, we would not have to tell you to do them,” Raiden interjects.
“You’re complaining because we ask you to do your fair share at home?” You clarify.
“See?? You’re teaming up on me right now,” he sighs and shakes his head.
“I’m getting sick of you,” your tone is teasing but you keep a straight face.
Kung Lao’s hand moves to his chest in faux hurt at your statement.
“Should we kick him out?” Raiden joins your teasing.
Nodding solemnly, you say, “I think we might have to.”
Kung Lao gasps, “What the hell guys?”
Both you and Raiden are giving each other very sombre looks, pretending to be so sad about the loss of Kung Lao from your household.
“Guys?” Kung Lao’s tone is worried.
You look to him with your brows raised, “Are you gonna do your chores without being asked?”
He looks away in thought, “I mean… maybe?”
You shake your head at him and direct you attention to Raiden, “Lost cause,” you sigh.
“Indeed,” Raiden nods at you in agreeance.
“Okay, I do not like this joke anymore,” Kung Lao says.
Raiden and yourself break and start laughing at him.
“I do not like when you guys do that,” Kung Lao complains in reference to yours and Raiden’s ability to immediately pick up on the others joke and play along completely seriously.
You shrug at him, “I think it’s funny.”
He scowls back at you.
“Lighten up,” Raiden pats his back.
“One of you is paying for lunch,” he’s taking advantage of the situation.  
Rolling your eyes at him you say, “I will pay.”
“I will pay,” Raiden argues with you.
Kung Lao turns to him, “You never offer to pay when it’s just us.”
“Because you eat a lot, plus, she paid last time,” Raiden shakes his head at him.
“I’m fine to pay again, I don’t mind.”
“I mind,” Raiden counters.
“As long as I’m not paying, I do not mind,” Kung Lao jokes.
“We won’t make you pay; you have to keep your money for the new place you’ll be getting after we kick you out,” you jest.
Raiden chuckles at you but Kung Lao makes an unhappy face.
“Don’t pout Kung Lao, I’m just kidding,” you wonder if you took it too far.
Raiden warns, “He’s baiting you, do not feel bad for him.”
“Raiden, I could’ve convinced her to do my chores for me or something, always ruining things for me,” he whinges.
“You would think she’d have learnt by now not to feel bad for you,” Raiden languishes.
“I am right here,” you interrupt.
Living with them has taken years off your lifespan, you think.
Pointing as you say, “The day I do your chores for you is the day I die, Kung Lao.”
He lets out an over-the-top groan, throwing his head back.
“Okay, enough theatrics,” Raiden says, ending the direction of the conversation.
It’s good that he did, because Kung Lao and yourself would sit here all day going back and forth with the other. The both of you seemingly incapable of ending the bit, always bouncing off the other, increasing the drama of the situation until one of you pretends to feel hurt and the other apologises. It’s not a particularly harmful thing for either of you but the never ending back and forth between the two of you harms Raiden, in the way that he gets exhausted just watching the two of you. Quite frankly, it’s worse at home, the two of you at least try to behave out in public, or you do anyways.
You look to Raiden and give him your best begging eyes, “Please don’t kick me out.”
“Stop that!” Kung Lao points at you.
“Stop what?” You ask.
He frowns, “Stop being cute to get your way.”
“Dunno what you’re talking about,” you shrug, feigning innocence.
Raiden rolls his eyes at the both of you, “I think I might move out.”
“You can’t leave me alone with him!” You protest, lowering your voice as you say, “I’d accidentally get him wet after midnight and he’d eat me or something.”
Kung Lao takes in a breath, ready to say something but Raiden stops him, “Do not say whatever it is you are planning to.”
He deflates at Raiden’s words, sighing, “You never let me have any fun.”
“For good reason,” he retorts.
Raiden pays Madam Bo for lunch and you’re all heading home, filling the rest of the day with miscellaneous activities. Mostly, you stay in your room and read, invested in the current romance novel you bought the other day.
In the time that you’re reading the sun sets and the front door closing brings you back to the real world, you decide it might be time that you exit your room and see what’s happened in your absence.
As you enter the living area you only see Raiden, “Where’s Kung Lao?” You ask.
Looking up to you, he replies, “He’s got that date tonight, remember?”
You walk over to him and sit down, “I had forgotten, he met her at Madam Bo’s, didn’t he?”
He nods at you, “Yeah, last week.”
Humming, you say, “A girl who has seen Kung Lao eat and agrees to a date with him is a brave girl indeed.”
Raiden chuckles at your words.
You don’t have any feelings in particular towards Kung Lao going on a date tonight, or any night really. Predominantly because he never really dates them; he goes out and either gets lucky or comes home and complains about how something they did was annoying or weird. Last time, she didn’t like tea and he thought that was a red flag and never saw her again.
“I am bored,” you whinge.
Raiden huffs at you, amused, “What do you want to do?”
“Scrabble?”
“I do not like playing scrabble against you,” he says.
You know why he doesn’t like playing against you, but you ask anyways, “Why not?”
“You take it too seriously,” he shakes his head at you.
“Please,” you pout at him, hands clasped together.
He rolls his head, sighing, “Fine, but only if you try to be normal about it.”
“If you didn’t play stupid words this wouldn’t be an issue,” you retort.
He pinches the bridge of his nose, “You’re already starting.”
“I’m sorry! I’ll behave, promise.” You give him your most innocent smile.
“Okay, go get the board.” He speaks.
“Yes!” You get up to go get the board from your room, briefly you think of how much of a sucker he is.
When you come back, you set it up at the table, the both of you sit across from each other. The beginning of the game goes well, you’re pretty close in score for a while but as you both play against one another, you find it increasingly difficult to be normal. He always plays stupid words but the one he’s just put down makes you want to reach over and strangle him.
Your eye twitches as you say, “’Ax’ is not a valid scrabble word.”
“It is.” is all he says in response.
“No, and if it is, it is wrong because ���ax’ should have an ‘e’ on the end of it to be a word.” You’re restraining yourself from getting upset about this but there is no way that is a scrabble word.
“Go get the scrabble dictionary if you don’t believe me,” he shrugs at you.
Squinting at him in scrutiny, you get up and go get the book.
Once you’ve sat back down in front of him, you flick through the pages to determine if it’s valid or not. When you find it, you are more than upset.
“Did you find it?” He asks, his voice already laced with victory.
Scowling at him, you say, “Yes… I still don’t think it should be a word though.”
“Why not?”
You’re a bit frantic as you explain, “It literally defines an axe with an ‘e’, it shouldn’t be allowed as ax when axe is spelled as axe and is also a valid scrabble word, you can’t have two words spelt differently with the same definition.”
He shakes his head at you, “Are you even trying to be normal about this?”
“I am putting in so much effort, be grateful.” His stupid word is stupid and outrageous.
“Fair enough, I am grateful.” He smiles at you; you’re frowning at him.
Taking a deep breath, you give him his stupid twenty-four points, since he got a stupid triple word score with his stupid two letter made up word.
It’s not long after that when Kung Lao walks in through the front door. He sees you both playing scrabble and remarks, “You guys are like two old people in a nursing home.”
You ignore his comparison, “You’re home early,” you comment, not looking at him, instead staring intently at the board.
Raiden is putting down his next word and you swear to God if it’s something ridiculous, you’re flipping the board. He’s currently 20 points ahead, and he’s only winning because of his bullshit word.
Kung Lao walks over to you both and stands behind you, watching over your shoulder. He winces at your letters because how do you currently not have a single consonant.
“She wouldn’t stop talking about her ex, it was weird,” Kung Lao explains. “Babe, I’m sorry but you have the worst letters right now.”
You turn around and slap at him, “I know that, thank you babe,” you huff out at him, you didn’t need his commentary.
“You never call me babe,” Raiden directs at Kung Lao jokingly and you chuckle at him.
You abruptly stop laughing and say to him, “Don’t make me laugh, I am so annoyed at you right now.”
“Why do you keep agreeing to play scrabble with each other? It never ends well.” Kung Lao states. “By the way, one of you spelt axe wrong,” he observes.
“See? Even Kung Lao thinks it’s wrong!” You point at Raiden accusatorily.
“I don’t think it’s wrong, that is objectively spelt wrong,” comes Kung Lao’s reply.
Raiden opens the dictionary and shoves it in his face, “It is right there, it is legal!”
“How many points did you get for it?” Kung Lao asks, squinting at the book to read it.
“Twenty-four,” you grit out.
Raiden is proud as he says, “I got a triple word score.”
You’re seething in your seat; you still haven’t gotten over it.
“Who’s winning?” He asks.
You feel like you might strain yourself, “He is, by twenty points.”
Kung Lao cringes, “Yikes.” He puts a hand on your shoulder, “Try not to flip the board.”
“I’m not going to flip the board.”
“You did that one time I played against you,” he reminds.
“Because cwm shouldn’t be a word,” you pout.
“It is though,” he shrugs at you.
“It shouldn’t be though!” You scowl at him, “Still annoyed about that.”
“And that’s why I won’t play scrabble with you anymore,” he tells you.
“You guys act like I am the crazy one, you’re the ones putting down stupid words,” you whinge.
Kung Lao places his hand on top of your head and shakes you lightly. You slap him away, “Stop it.”
He chuckles at you and moves across the room to flop onto the couch.
“Did it not go well?” Raiden asks, looking at his letters.
Kung Lao looks at him with his brows raised, “Are you deaf or something? I said before, she spoke about her ex the whole time, it was uncomfortable.”
“Ah that is right, sorry, I am distracted.” Raiden’s reply is dismissive, trying to determine his next move.
You snicker at the both of them; you find their interactions funny.
“I am sorry about your stroke of bad luck Kung Lao,” you look at him pitifully.  
His eyebrows frown at you, “What do you mean?”
Raiden answers for you, “Every date you go on at the moment, you either strike out or there is something “wrong” with her.” He uses finger quotes on his use of ‘wrong’.
“That is not true,” Kung Lao protests.
“Mmmm yes, it is,” you counter.
He huffs, laying back down, “Whatever, when’s the last time either of you got any?”
You decide to make a stupid joke, “Earlier, we did it while you were gone,” you keep your voice even and steady, trying to be convincing. You lightly kick at Raiden under the table, asking him to play along.
Raiden looks to you, his face straight as he says, “Yup, was great, real hot.”
Hearing Raiden say that almost makes you lose it laughing on the spot, but you soldier on.
At what you’ve both ‘confessed’ to, Kung Lao shoots up on the couch and looks between the two of you, “Actually?!”
“Yeah, best I ever had,” you say, Raiden looks like he might injure himself across from you.
Kung Lao is in disbelief, “You guys have to be joking, there’s no way!”
You nod your head very seriously, “There is, it was the only way Raiden would play scrabble with me.”
“Mhm, yeah, that was my condition.” Raiden confirms.
“I’m about to lose my mind, what the hell?” Kung Lao’s tone seems like he’s stressing himself out. “Why would you– I mean– with Raiden???” His attention is completely on you, he looks lost and maybe a little upset? You aren’t sure.
You smile at him, your lips shaking with how much you’re trying to contain your laughter.
“She is joking,” Raiden says, ending the joke quicker than you usually would.
“Boo, why’d you tell him so soon,” you complain.
Raiden looks over to Kung Lao, “Because he looks like he’s about to pass out.”
The both of you are lightly chuckling at the whole thing, Kung Lao looks confused.
“So, you two didn’t sleep together?” He asks, pointing between the two of you.
“Not tonight,” you tease.
“WHAT?” He exclaims.
Raiden clarifies, “Not any night.”
You give Raiden a thumbs down in response, he’s ruining your fun.
“I think I just aged twenty years,” Kung Lao says, “I need to lay down,” he lays himself back down on the couch, being overdramatic as usual.
You shake your head at him, “Why would you care anyways?”
“I have rights,” is his ominous response.
Your eyebrows pull together at his odd behaviour, “You sure do, buddy.”
“Alright, play your word, I want to end this game,” Raiden says, bringing your attention back to scrabble.
Sadly, you lose to him by ten points, and you feel cheated. His stupid word is what got him the win. You object to him about it, but he ignores you, too pleased in himself with his bullshit win.
“I am never playing scrabble with you ever again,” you huff, crossing your arms and slumping back in your chair.
Kung Lao calls out to you, “You say that every time you lose to one of us.”
“And then you get bored and beg us to play against you,” Raiden finishes.
“I do not beg,” you sulk.
Raiden reminds you, “You did earlier, said you’d behave and everything.”
“What? Every time she asks me, I get threatened, not begged.” Kung Lao complains from over on the couch.
You shrug at him, “You aren’t as much of a sucker as Raiden.”
“I’ll remember that you have just said that,” Raiden says.
Smiling sweetly at him you reply, “I’m sorry.”
He smiles at you faintly, immediately forgiving you, “It’s fine.”
“You are a sucker,” Kung Lao directs at Raiden.
You laugh at the both of them, “Alright, I’m going to bed, good night.” You get up from your seat and start walking down the hall to your room.
“Wait,” Kung Lao calls to you, making you stop where you’re standing.
You wait for him to continue, he lifts his forearm off his eyes to look at you, “Are you working tomorrow?”
“Yeah, in the evening though,” you inform him.
“Alright, good night,” he says.
“Good night,” Raiden says as well.
You hum to the both of them and wander off to bed for the evening.
ᖭི༏ᖫྀ
The next day when you wake up, they are both gone, already having started their days while you slept. There isn’t much you feel like you can do currently, feeling stuck in waiting mode for your shift at work. It isn’t for another handful of hours that you have to get ready, but you don’t feel like you can do anything in the meantime. So, instead of going out, you stay home and read some more, do some odd cleaning, and get upset remembering how you lost at scrabble last night.
They both probably won’t play against you for a couple months now since you got pretty close to flipping the board last night. It doesn’t matter though, when they won’t play you, Madam Bo does, and she at least uses real words. She’s the one who taught you to play, and she doesn’t appreciate their stupid words either, so it’s always nice to play with her. Preferable even.
As you watch the sun hang low in the sky you think it’s about time to get ready for work, you consider taking the scrabble board with you but ultimately decide against it. Staying late to play scrabble isn’t something you want to do tonight, maybe if you had a day shift instead. Next time, you think.
As you walk into work you take note that it is busy-ish, busier than usual, it’s the end of the week and people are hungry, coming here to treat themselves instead of cooking at home. Which is good… just means there is more for you to do.
It’s towards the tail end of your shift when Raiden and Kung Lao walk in, sitting in their usual spot. You realise now, Kung Lao asked you last night when you were working so they could come in during your shift. They usually walk back with you if they’re in the area but if you’re working a later shift one or both of them will come in towards your finishing time so they can walk you home.
It’s sweet that they do, it’s also handy because sometimes the customers will relentlessly flirt with you or wait until you finish the shift and try to hook up with you afterwards. Having Kung Lao and Raiden here prevents that from happening, though, it’d be better if you being uninterested and saying no was enough.
As you make your way over to their table, you get stopped by a familiar face, he’s a regular you haven’t really interacted much with.
“Hey…” His voice gets awkward as you stop in front of him, like he wasn’t expecting you to pay attention to him. He’s kinda cute, in an awkward and shy sort of way.
“May I help you?” You ask, in customer service mode.
He scratches at the back of his head awkwardly, “Uhm yes… well not like, I don’t need help… I um… wanted to tell you how pretty you are…” He’s stumbling over his words and blushing insanely hard. It’s endearing.
You’re kind of into it, thinking back to what Kung Lao said last night you realise it has been a while since you got any action, dating and otherwise.
“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you to say,” you smile politely at him, okay so you’re a little rusty on the flirting front too.
He looks a little shocked at your openness to his clumsy flirting, “…Would you, like to go on a date? With me? Some day?”
You go to reply to him, but Kung Lao has walked up to you, “You know, it’s kinda rude to leave customers waiting, babe.”
“Give me a minute,” you look at him, frowning politely, trying to get him to understand that he needs to leave… right now.
“Oh, are you guys… together?” The cute stranger asks.
You say, “No.”
As Kung Lao says, “Yes.”
You look at him dubiously, confused by what he’s doing.
The man sitting at the table looks even more confused than you do, “I’m really sorry, I’m lost,” he says.
You exhale before speaking to Kung Lao, “Go sit down, I’ll be at your table shortly.”
He looks at you, gaze scrutinizing. You have no idea what’s gotten into him, this is the first time he’s interrupted you while with a customer. Normally if you need help, you handle it yourself or look to them, but you didn’t prompt his help.
He huffs slightly as he walks back over to the table, Raiden mouths ‘sorry’ at you, feeling badly for not being able to stop Kung Lao. You make a note to yourself to ask Kung Lao what he was thinking just now.
“I am so sorry, that was my roommate,” you direct your attention back to the shy man in front of you.
He looks relieved, “That’s okay… so, um… about going on a date? With me?”
“I think I’d like that,” you say.
The both of you exchange names and numbers and you say goodbye to him, needing to get back to work. Which means going over to Kung Lao and Raiden’s table.
Walking up to them, you ask, “Are you guys ready to order?” You’re using your customer service voice on them.
“Don’t be mad,” Kung Lao moans.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir. I’m just here to take your order,” you reply, tense smile on your face.
He turns to look at Raiden, pleading, “Do something.”
“I would like some tea,” Raiden smiles at you, trying to avoid worsening the situation.
“What kind?” You ask.
“Surprise me,” he’s being tugged on by Kung Lao but is ignoring him.
You nod and go to turn around but Kung Lao tugs on your apron, causing you to stop and look at him, “Yes?”
“I am sorry,” he mumbles, letting go of your apron.
Grabbing the top of his head and making him look at you, you tell him, “You better be, you embarrassed me.” You let go of his head, patting it once.
“I didn’t mean to…” he frowns at you, smoothing his hair back.
You hum your reply, “Mhm, I’m so sure.”
Raiden asks, “Did he ask you out?”
You nod at him, “Yeah, we exchanged numbers.”
Kung Lao makes a face of displeasure, prompting you to ask, “What is wrong now?”
“Nothing,” he shrugs at you, “Just thought he was weird.”
“He was nice,” you counter.
He immediately asks you, “Why are you even interested in him?”
You consider your answer, “He’s cute, and seems nice.”
Raiden is exasperated with the two of you, choosing to check out of the conversation. Looking away from the pair of you, suddenly finding the wall very interesting.  
“People always hit on you, you never give them your number,” Kung Lao recounts.
Shrugging at him as you say, “You’re the one who’s always saying I never get out.”
“It’s not like that’s a bad thing,” he retorts.
You roll your eyes at him, this conversation is going nowhere, “Whatever, I’m done talking about this. Do you want some tea?”
He folds his arms over his chest, pouting slightly, “Yes.”
“Okay,” you chuckle a little at his response, finding his sulking cute.
Turning around you go to get their tea. They’re only buying something so that they can stay until you finish your shift, which looking at the clock, you have less than an hour left of it.
The rest of your shift goes by quickly, which you’re thankful for. You’re ready to get into bed, tomorrow is the beginning of the weekend and it’ll be the first one you have off in a while. Lately, you’ve been covering all the weekend shifts. Madam Bo is low on staff and the staff that she does have other than you, don’t want to work the weekend shifts.
Picking up the slack doesn’t bother you that much, but you have been experiencing some burn out lately, overworking yourself a little. Which Madam Bo noticed and refused to let you come in this weekend.
When you are ready to leave, Kung Lao and Raiden are waiting for you out the front.
You come up from behind them, “Thank you, for walking me back,” you tell them, grateful that they both care for you.
“You are welcome,” Raiden says, smile polite.
Kung Lao pats your head, “You attract weirdos, someone has to walk you home.” He jokes.
You’re rolling your eyes at him as you flick his hand off your head, “Not nice.”
“Sorry,” he apologises quickly, “It’s not your fault.”
You hum at him, “It’s fine.”
The three of you begin your walk home, the stars are beautiful, there’s so many of them out here. As you walk in between the two of them, you feel an overwhelming affection for them both, your hands slip into theirs; holding both of them at the same time and swinging them back and forth.
They both allow it, letting you have your moment.
ᖭི༏ᖫྀ
With the late finish last night and your recent exhaustion, you sleep in until later in the day. You wake up confused and lost, like you’ve lost ten years or something. Blearily, you look at the clock on your wall, it’s one in the afternoon. You think? You’re having a hard time comprehending the minute and hour hands on the clock right now.
Getting out of bed, you wander through the house, looking for one of the other two. Raiden isn’t anywhere to be found but Kung Lao is sitting in the lounge, snacking.
“You’re finally up,” he observes as you shuffle into the lounge. You feel like a corpse, “Geez, are you okay?” He asks you.
Shaking your head at him is your response, you don’t feel like talking yet.
He pats the cushion beside him for you to sit on. Which you do, shuffling forward and collapsing into it, knocking into him on your way down.
“Is it after one?” You ask him.
“If by after one you mean it’s two, then yeah,” he chuckles at you lightly, “You sure you’re good?”
“Mm fine, why didn’t you wake me?”
“You have been overworking yourself, figured you could use the extra sleep,” he shrugs at you.
You grunt at him, “I feel like I’ve been in a coma.”
“You look like it too,” he teases, putting his snack off to the side.
The expression on your face is one of displeasure at his comment, you move past it though, instead asking him, “Where’s Raiden?”
“I dunno, out doing stuff?” His response is unconcerned.
Shaking your head at him you say, “You didn’t ask him?”
“Nah,” he’s still unbothered.
You can’t tell if he’s not curious enough or if you’re too nosey. “You need to ask more questions.”
“Maybe you need to ask less,” he retorts.
You roll your eyes at him and get up, retreating back to your room, “I’m going back to my room.” You tell him, choosing to change and freshen up slightly.
“Okay,” he hums at you thoughtlessly.
He doesn’t leave you alone for long though. You’re reading on your stomach in bed when he knocks on your door, he’s only been alone for twenty minutes but he knows you’re awake now and he likes company.
“Come in,” you call to him.
He walks in and flops down on his back next to you on your bed, “I’m bored,” he complains.
“When aren’t you?”
He just groans at you in response.
You’re exasperated when you ask, “What am I meant to do about it?”
His head turns to the side to smile at you, “I am so glad you asked.”
It’s your turn to groan now, you regret asking just from the look on his face.
“I wanna play a game,” he informs you.
“What kind of game,” you ask, voice laced with your uncertainty.
His smile turns just slightly evil, “Truth or dare.”
You drop your head into your mattress between your arms, your hands are still holding your book, “Isn’t that a game for a bunch of horny teens?”
He takes your book from your hands and chucks it to the floor; you pop your head up to look at him, “Hey!” You protest, “don’t break my book about it.”
“It’s a way for us to get to know each other better,” He argues against your prior question.
You side eye him as you say, “I already know far too much about you.”
“Come on, I’m bored,” he whinges.
“Kung Lao, this is a dumb game, if you wanna know things about me, just ask.”
He rolls his eyes at you, uninterested in your suggestion, “That is boring, plus in truth or dare you have to tell the truth, it’s the law.”
“Are you going to be annoying about this if I refuse?” You ask, already knowing that he is.
“Probably,” he shrugs.
Your face drops back into the mattress, “Fine.”
He celebrates, “Nice! Okay, I’ll be nice and you can ask first.”
“Truth or dare?” You drone into the fabric of the bed, voice muffled.
“Truth,” he answers.
“Lame,” you tease, “I dunno what to ask you.”
“Anything you want, free reign,” he says, eyes looking to your ceiling.
You whine into the bed, “Too much power.”
“You are such a wuss,” he chortles at you.
“Shut up,” you think on it a bit longer, “Mmmm, oh okay! Why did you interrupt me and that guy last night?”
“Dumb question,” he criticises.
You look to him, head still flat to the mattress, “Gotta answer, your rules.”
He scowls at your roof, “Didn’t like him.”
“Why not?”
He tuts at you, “You gotta wait till the next round if you want to know,” he looks to you, both your faces are close to each other, “Truth or dare.”
“Truth,” you answer.
He hums as he thinks of a question, his gaze mischievous as he settles on what he wants to ask, “How many people have you slept with?”
“Dare,” you change your answer and lay your face back into mattress.
“You can’t do that,” he’s laughing at you.
You mumble to him, “I just did.”
“Fine, I dare you to answer my question then.”
“You are such a loser,” you protest, sighing as you answer, “One.”
“I was expecting a higher number,” he says.
“Sorry I’m not a whore like you,” you tease.
“I like being a whore, thank you very much.”
You hum to him, not interested in actually answering him, “Truth or dare?”
“Dare.” He answers, you look to him and he’s smiling cheekily at you, premeditating that you were probably going to ask him the same question and trying to avoid it.
“This is not fun,” you whine.
He purses his lips at you, “I am having fun.”
“’Course you are.”
“Just give me the dare already,” his hand taps your shoulder blade.
You decide to play the same way he did with you, “I dare you to tell me when the last time you got laid was.” You’re hoping to give him a taste of his own medicine, perhaps make him uncomfortable but you aren’t that lucky.
“Probably… a month, maybe.” He answers with no hesitation, “I see you have lowered yourself to my level,” he laughs at you, pleased by you using his same strategy.
“I have so many regrets,” your face is still pushed into the sheets, you’re refusing to look at him.
“I miss sex,” he sighs.
“I’m not bothered.”
“When was the last time you had sex?”
“Not your business,” you tell him.
“You’re gonna have to answer cause that’s what I’m gonna ask you whether you pick truth or dare,” he pokes your side.
Slapping his hand you say, “I don’t know, when was my last relationship?”
“Like two years ago,” he answers for you, voice shocked.
“Calm down, it’s not that big of a deal.”
He sits up suddenly, “No wonder you don’t miss sex, you have forgotten how good it is.”
“It was never that great anyways,”
“Oh, you poor thing,” his tone is laced with pity, genuinely feeling for you, “I feel so bad for you.”
“Well stop, I’m literally fine,” you huff at him.
He rolls you onto your back and looks down at you, “Hurry up and ask me truth or dare, I have more things to ask you now.” He looks a little too excited right now.
You don’t want to know what else he wants to ask you, “I don’t think I wanna play anymore.”
“Come on! It was just getting good,” he’s staring at you very intently, it’s making you feel self-conscious.
Looking away from him and already regretting this, you ask him, “Truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
You decide to bring it back around, “Why didn’t you like the guy at Madam Bo’s?”  
He scowls at your question; he seemingly doesn’t want to answer this one question.
“We could always do something else,” you try giving him an out, mostly you’re trying to give yourself an out.
He keeps eye contact with you, “No… I don’t know, I just didn’t like him or how he was looking at you.”
You feel a little warm in the face under his gaze, “What does that mean?”
He smirks at you, “Nope, my turn now, truth or dare.”
“Does it even matter what I pick at this point?”
“Nope, not really,” his eyes are alight, amused at all of this, you guess.
You give him the response he wants, “Truth.”
“Your last partner, he ever get you to finish?”
“Kind of?” you wince at your answer.
He prompts you for more information, “What does that mean?”
“I guess, technically no?” His eyes on you are piercing, he’s waiting for you to elaborate but you don’t know if you want to, “I mean, he needed… my help?”
Kung Lao’s eyes widen in understanding, “You poor woman,” he’s shaking his head pitifully at you, “Now I understand why you don’t miss it, wasn’t any different from masturbating.”
You feel beyond embarrassed now, you reach your hand up and over his mouth, “You need to stop talking.”
From under your hand, you feel his tongue lick you, “Ew! What the hell?” You sit up properly, he’s closer to you than you were expecting.
He laughs at your disgust, proud of himself.
Your eyebrows raise at him, “Can we be done with this now?”
His own eyebrows pinch in thought, “Mmm, no.”
“Kung Lao,” you whine at him, frustrated by his persistence, “If you are so bored we can play scrabble.”
“I am not playing scrabble against you anytime soon,” he shoots back, “Plus, this is way more fun.”
“For you maybe,” you mutter before collapsing back onto the mattress.
Kung Lao’s eyes trace up your body, lingering on every part of you, “Have some shame Kung Lao,” you joke.
“We could kill two birds with one stone?” He proposes.
This is already headed in a suggestive direction and being the more responsible of the two, you feel like you should shut him down.
He doesn’t let you talk though, “I miss sex and you don’t know how good it is,” his eyes are burning into yours, he’s completely serious.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you tell him honestly.
“I think it’s a fantastic idea,” he presses, “I guarantee you’ll thank me after.”
Your gaze is stern as you look at him, “This could irreparably damage our friendship.” Your choice of words leave an opening for him.
“But you are considering it,” he blinks at you, ignoring your concerns and instead focusing on the small window of opportunity you unintentionally left.
Your eyebrows pull together, he just wants to get his dick wet and you’re the one here right now, “You’re working yourself up, go have a cold shower or something.”
He chuckles, “You want to die not knowing how good I am?”
You rolls your eyes at him and his cockiness, “Your ego is taking up so much room in here, why don’t I leave you alone with it?”
His hand is bold as it rests on your thigh, “I think… you are interested in what I have to offer.”
You’re trying your best to be unaffected by him but he is cute and has such strong looking arms, his biceps are defined and muscular. The hand on your thigh is large and warm, his heated gaze is hard to avoid, it’s making you warm all over.
Being touched by him is overwhelming, you haven’t been touched by someone intimately or otherwise in a long time and it’s making your skin buzz.
“Truth or dare?” He asks suddenly, pulling his hand away and sitting cross legged beside you. His eyes are still watching you.
You groan as you pull yourself up into a sitting position in front of him, mirroring the way he is sat, “I don’t think it’s your turn to ask.”
“Well, ask then,” he replies.
You huff at him, feeling confused by his actions, “Truth or dare?”
“Dare.”
“I dare you to…” you purse your lips in thought, wanting to make him uncomfortable or embarrassed like he did to you but you aren’t convinced you can.
Mindlessly, your eyes flit to his hands again, they’re resting on his knees. You can’t stop thinking about his hand on your thigh, it’s quite frankly embarrassing how touch starved you are.
One of his hands reaches out, his finger hooks under your chin and raises your eyeline back to his, he’s smirking at you, “Eyes up here, babe.” His tone is smug.
“I know,” you push his hand away.
He smiles knowingly at you, “What were you looking at?”
“Nothing, I was thinking,” you try dismissing him.
He hums at you, not convinced of your answer but letting you get away with it anyways.
“I dare you to… give me a hug.” You settle on, it’s dumb and a little self-indulgent but you haven’t been held in a long time.
Kung Lao looks dumbfounded by your dare, “If you wanted a hug you did not have to dare me for one.” His voice is amused as he speaks but his hands reach out to you and pull you into his lap so you’re straddling him.
In this position your knees rest beside his folded legs as your arms wrap around his middle, holding him to you. Kung Lao’s own large arms hold you; his embrace is firm and comforting. You think it’s a little pathetic of you to enjoy this so much but you feel very content in his hold.
“You are weird,” he hums, his chest vibrates with it.
Ignoring his comment, you enjoy the hug, he is warm and firm and you think he gives the best hugs. When you think you’ve overstayed your welcome in his arms you go to move away but he holds you to him, not letting you go.
His hands roam up and down your back in a soothing motion, “My previous offer still stands.”
He lets you pull back this time but he doesn’t allow you to leave his lap, your faces are close together and his eyes are slightly lidded as he waits for your response.
You voice your concerns, “I still don’t think that’s a good idea…”
One of his hands leaves your back and grasps the side of your face, his eyes are looking you over, lingering on your lips. His thumb traces your bottom lip lightly, his soft touch and intense gaze is making your resolve shaky.
“Tell me no, tell me that you are not interested,” his voice seems strained, laced with desire.
Your reply is hesitant, “I– it’s not about that, if this ruined our friendship… I’d never forgive myself.”
His eyes are begging you, “You can blame me then.”
Something about his borderline desperation for you is making you dizzy; his presence is surrounding you and it’s making your thoughts cloudy. The hand on your face, the other on your hip, his pleading eyes, it’s all making you want him.
Maybe hugging him was a bad idea, with how close he is now, you can’t make a well thought out decision. All you can think about is him and his soft lips and how badly you want him.
One of your own hands comes up to his face, stroking his cheek bone. Instead of replying to him, you lean in and kiss him lightly, you’re timid, unsure if this is what he really wants. He sighs against you, his mouth responds to you quickly, taking control of the kiss and holding you firmly.
His kiss is hot, and wet and it’s a lot. It’s consuming, especially when he deepens it. The way he’s kissing you makes your heart leap in your chest and the longer his lips are on yours, the more eager his kiss gets.
He has a whimper falling from you and at the sound he pulls back, the pair of you are breathless, his expression is cocky when he looks at you. The look on your face is apparently delightful to him, both his hands hold your face as he looks at you.
“You have such a pretty look on your face right now,” he purrs at you.
His words make you buzz, you’re throbbing for him and it’s annoying that he’s so smug about it. To punish him, you go to move away but his hands quickly move to your hips and pull you back to him, your pussy makes contact with his crotch. The minor contact makes you gasp.
You whine at him, “Kung Lao–”
“–Can I have you?” He cuts you off, his grip holding you to him, you can feel how hard he is under you. The size and feel of him is distracting you, you’re needy, “Pay attention,” he scolds, his own need for you is overwhelming but he needs your consent first.
“Please,” you ask. He considers you for a moment and it makes you whine at him, “What?”
“Wondering if I should make you beg for it,” he replies.
“I don’t think you could,” you dispute.
He raises an eyebrow at you, “Is that a challenge?”
Suddenly, you regret your words. He may have a large ego but there is usually a reason behind it, and unfortunately, you are touch starved and needy for him. You have no doubts that he could make you beg.
You’re serious as you say, “No.”
“That was a quick change of heart,” he smiles at you.
You look away from him, “I don’t think it would be nice of you to do…”
“It would be hot though,” he counters.
The way he’s looking at you is suggestive even with the humour in his words, you completely believe that he absolutely would tease you until you begged him for it and that it probably would be hot, but with how wet and needy you are all you want is for him to fuck you nicely.
You’re shy as you confess, “I want you, now.” You hope that if you’re honest, he’ll show mercy.
His grip on you tightens lightly, his dick jumps at your admission. Suddenly, he’s pushing you off him and onto your back, flat on the mattress. He pulls off his shirt, exposing his torso to you, the sight has your mouth watering. His muscles move under his skin with his movements, and it makes you rub your thighs together for friction. His hands urgently tug your pants and underwear off at once, his haste takes you off guard.
His hands spread your thighs open, looking down shamelessly at your wet cunt, you try to close your legs, but his hands hold you apart, “You’re so wet,” he observes, and it makes you squirm against him, he’s doing too much.
He moves his eyes off your centre and looks at your shirt, deciding he dislikes it, “That needs to come off.”
You hesitate slightly, feeling very exposed compared to him but you comply and tug it off over your head, chucking it down onto the floor. He places your thighs on his hips and then his hands travel up your body, caressing your sides, before he places both hands on the mattress either side your head.
Leaning down he lowers himself onto his forearms and takes your lips in his again, his tongue immediately in your mouth. His kiss is dirty and leaves you breathless, desperate. One of his hands touches your skin again. Moving down your body to grip at your thigh, holding you to him. He then moves his hand to touch your pussy, he slides his fingers through your wetness. The feeling has you moaning into his mouth, he swallows your sounds, kissing you hungrily.
When he pulls back, he keeps his forehead to yours. His fingers caress at you, spreading your slick around, his gaze is far away as he looks at you. Eventually he can’t take it and pulls back from you, sitting between your thighs and watching his fingers play with your cunt.
“Don’t think I have ever been with someone this wet,” he groans at you, his words make you feel embarrassed, and you try to close your legs, “It’s a good thing, babe,” he assures you, not wanting you to deprive him of the view.
His finger probes at your opening, he grunts as he pushes it into you, “Poor thing, you can barely take my finger.” His tone is filled with faux pity.
You supress a whine at the feeling of his finger entering you, his eyes are completely distracted with the way you’re sucking him in. His thumb circles your clit firmly, wanting you to relax. The stimulation makes you whimper and bite your lip.
He speaks to you, “Don’t need to be quiet, preferable if you weren’t, actually.”
“It’s –ngh– embarrassing, to be loud,” you respond.
“Who told you that?” His eyes are still watching your pussy, he’s starting to withdraw his finger, pushing it right back in, a squelching noise filling the room at his actions. The sound makes a deep groan come from him.
The feeling makes you gasp, hands covering your mouth as you moan.
“I like the sounds you make, they’re cute,” he pulls his finger out just to stuff a second in next to it, you feel full as you pulse around him.
“You wouldn’t know,” you counter.
“Hmm that’s cute… you think I can’t hear you? Late at night, shoving your fingers into your tight little pussy?” Both his fingers are working you open, fucking into you softly.
His words shock you, it’s not often that you indulge and to know he’s heard you sets your skin on fire.
“Always make such cute sounds, can hear how you try to be quiet,” he purrs to you, eyes never leaving your cunt, too involved with stretching you open. He wants you to take him, he wants you to be full of him.
When in doubt, deny, “I –hah– dunno what you’re –nghff– talking about.”
He chuckles at your flimsy lie, “Can deny all you want but I know what I hear, the way you gasp and whine is difficult to forget.” His hand moves quicker, the lewd sounds in the room getting louder with how wet his words make you.
His control right now is surprising even to him, abruptly he pulls his fingers from you and the loss makes you whine. He looks to you and then shoves his fingers, wet from you into your mouth, you suck them clean and the expression on his face looks like he’s about to fall apart in front of you.
After he retracts them slowly from your mouth, he lays on his stomach between your thighs.
“You don’t have to do that,” you tell him quickly.
His eyes are dark, “I know, I want to.”
His hands grab onto your legs and throw them over his shoulders. He blows on your cunt just to watch you twitch for him; his gaze is greedy. And so is his tongue as he licks into you, his mouth downright worshiping your pussy as he tastes you.
Your back arches off the bed at the contact, head swimming in ecstasy at the way his tongue fucks you, his nose pressed into your clit. It’s got your eyes rolling back and hands gripping the sheets, you’re incredibly wet, getting him wet and messy. You want him inside you, you want his body on yours, want him to press his skin up against yours as he fucks you. You want him.
He moans into your pussy, his pace quickening. He’s determined to have you cumming on his face and unwilling to pull away until you do. His hands hold your thighs spread for him, his tongue laps at you, he pulls it out of your pussy hole to suck on your clit. It has you seeing stars, moans and whimpers increasing, so incredibly close to the edge.
As he enters his fingers back inside you and begins stroking your inner walls, you start to tighten around him. He hums happily into your cunt, knowing you’re so close to cumming. Your thighs try to close around his head, but his grip holds you steady, it’s the prick of his nails biting into you slightly that has you finishing around his fingers.
You release supressed whimpers as you cum and when he notices that you are cumming, he rips his fingers from you and replaces them with his mouth, swallowing your release eagerly. He moans into your cunt at the taste of you, overjoyed at your orgasm.
When he pulls back, he’s tugging his pants down and taking them off, desperate for you. His own arousal setting him on fire, so close to finishing just from making you cum. He strokes his dick languidly, the slight pressure making him sigh out in relief.  
The sight of his cock reminds you of how badly you want to be filled with him, drained slightly from your orgasm but still needy for him. He’s fucking his hand to the sight of you, one of his hands holds your thighs apart while he kneels between them, stroking himself and looking at your cunt.
“Kung Lao,” you whine at him, urging him to move along.
He looks to you, his eyes are lidded and filled with lust, but he smirks at you, “Beg.”
His word punches you in the gut, he wants you to beg for his dick. He gave you a taste of euphoria and is now withholding.
“Mm not gonna beg,” you tell him.
His voice is slightly strained, holding back a moan, “That’s really too bad.”
He leans over you, his hand on your thigh moving to beside your head, holding his weight above you. He moves the tip of his cock through your folds, rubbing you and spreading your slick over the tip of his dick. You wonder if he’s going to give up that easily, but as he keeps sliding his cockhead against you, you realise you’re not that lucky. He’s teasing you, the sensation of him has you keening, wanting to moan but containing the sounds, not wanting him to have the satisfaction.
“Cause I think you’d sound really cute if you begged me,” he adds onto his previous statement.
“Hah– Mm not gonna beg,” you repeat.
“We will see,” his reply is unworried, unrushed, taking this at his own pace.
He continues moving the head of his dick through your folds before briefly dipping to your pussy hole, stretching you on him just the smallest bit before pulling away. He pulls away from your cunt and strokes himself, he moans at the feeling.
His eyes are on you and your needy gaze, “Could have it right now, babe.” He taunts, the tip of his cock pushing into your cunt again, but ultimately pulling away immediately.
He repeats the action, over and over again, pushing into you the tiniest amount, enough to slightly stretch you open on him and then pulling away before you get any kind of satisfaction. Moans spill from him every now and again, both from your pussy leaking on his cock and the way his hand moves up and down his shaft.
His resolve seems impeccable for a man who almost came in his pants while eating you out, he continues teasing you, never indulging you. He wants to hear you beg for him; his skin is burning for it.
You’re close to tears now, needing to feel him, your eyebrows are pinched together, “Kung Lao, please.”
“What was that?” His eyes look to yours.
You whine slightly as you say, “I need you… please.” Your eyes are large and pleading.
His reaction to your expression and pleas, is a large victorious smile, “That is all you had to say, babe.”
Finally, he slowly starts pushing into you, properly this time. Inch by delicious inch, he presses into you, filling you completely. Large and heavy inside you, your cunt throbbing around him at the feeling of finally being full. When he’s sheathed completely inside, pelvis pressed to yours, you both moan loudly.
“Gods, I might cum like this – hah – why didn’t you beg sooner,” he complains, leaning down so his skin is resting on yours, holding his weight up with his forearms.
You feel speechless, so full of him, your cunt pulsing around him. When he leans down to you, you wrap your legs around his waist, hooking them behind him. The shift causes him to slip deeper and he whimpers in response.
You clench around him at the sound, and he grunts, he pulls out of you abruptly and it makes you gasp first before whining at the loss of him.
“Wait – wait, what are you doing,” you whine at him, confused.
He’s holding the base of his cock as it twitches in his hand, “I almost –fuck– I almost came,” he curses, trying to control himself.
You go to whinge at him some more, but he stops you, “Need you to be quiet for a moment.” He asserts, worried your begging will push him over the edge very suddenly.
Complying, you wait a moment for him, and when he’s ready he pushes into you again, filling you perfectly. You wrap your legs around him when he’s pressed to you completely. He’s resting on his forearms again, framing your face and gazing at you.
“I thought you were supposed to be some kind of expert,” you say, teasing him a little.
He huffs at you, before nosing at the side of your face, “I am, but you have a divine pussy.” The compliment goes straight to your core, and you clench around him, he groans at you, “Like being praised huh?”
He draws his hips away from you, starting to fuck into you, his initial pace attempting to be gentle. He’s so big and he’s pressing up against places inside you that have never been touched, it makes you whimper and whine. The sounds are embarrassing to you and as you go to cover your mouth, Kung Lao’s hands grab onto both your wrists, pinning them to the bed.
“I want to hear how well I fuck you,” he whispers into your ear, the words send a shiver down your spine.
The pace he set changes into a fast and desperate one, fucking into you harshly and quickly. He looks down to where he’s fucking into you, groaning at the way you take him so well, he looks back to you. Wanting to see your expression. The way he’s fucking you makes your head spin, your eyes glaze over as you look up at him, his face is concentrated as he focuses on his pace.
You think he looks stunning like this, slightly fucked out and desperate as he fucks into you over and over again.
He catches the look in your eyes, “Looking at me with heart eyes, babe. What’s wrong?” He lets go of one of your wrists to hold the side of your face, “Dick so good you’re falling for me?”
If you weren’t so lost, if you didn’t feel so good right now, you’d bite back, say something teasing in nature but as he bullies his way into your cunt over and over again. You can’t help but mindlessly agree, nodding at him in response, hoping he’ll fuck you over the edge.
He relishes in your response, and he smiles at you before leaning down and kissing you. His tongue searching your mouth, making you even more breathless than his cock.
Pulling back, he watches the way you’re writhing and moaning under him, it has him right on the edge, barely fighting off his own orgasm. Only holding out by the skin of his teeth, refusing to cum before you do.
His thrusts become rougher, his pelvis grinds into your clit each time he re-enters you and it makes you flutter around him.
“You’re so close –ngh– I can feel it, cum all over me, babe.” He groans at you, “Mm the way your tight pussy is choking my dick has me right on the edge, –hah– feels so good,” he leans down to your ear, “Been doing such a good job, got the best cunt I’ve ever been in.”
All the praise he showers you with has you cumming without warning, your cunt clenching tightly around him. You moan out his name, whimpers exiting you, the force of your orgasm has you forgetting to be embarrassed. Too caught up in how good it feels to cum around him.
He moans at the feeling of you pulsing around him, his dick jerking, your own release triggers his very quickly. He rushes to pull out of you, but you lock your legs around him and hold him tight, wanting him to cum inside you.
As he realises your intent he keels over slightly, grinding his pelvis into you, filling you up with his release and riding out both your highs. His groans trail off into whimpers as he grows sensitive, but he doesn’t stop grinding into you, enjoying the way your pussy twitches around him too much.
You’re off in the clouds, not comprehending much of what’s happening around you, not until Kung Lao presses kisses to your lips, slowly coaxing your attention back to him. When you feel a little more tethered to Earth you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back properly. He smiles into the kiss, pulling back from you and then pressing a final peck to your cheek.
He carefully pulls out of you, gaze watching his cum leak out of you and onto the bed, his eyes are alight as he watches your cunt pulse. Your legs kick him away, as much as they can anyways, you’re a little shaky and sore.
He chuckles at you but flops down onto the mattress next to you, turning to his side so he can look over you.
“So?” He asks, wanting to hear you say how good he knows he was.
You pout up at the ceiling, “So, what?”
“Come on, I know I was the best you ever had,” he pokes your side.
You turn to him, “I’ve only ever slept with one other person.”
“Whatever…” he looks into your eyes, “You’re the best I have ever had,” he tells you, reaching out to tug you closer to him.
You’re resting on your side now, held against him. His confession makes your heart soar because unlike you, he has had his fair share of sexual encounters.
“You are the best I have had,” you admit, even though you’d actively have to try to be worse than the last guy.
“Yes, I knew it,” he’s celebrating his win, you can practically feel the room get smaller with his growing ego.
“So far,” you tease.
“What?” He makes you look at him, “I’m it now, babe.”
You’re a little wordless, “What?”
“I’m it, if you need dick from now on, you come to me,” he asserts, “So delete that guys number.”
“And you?” You ask him.
He looks at you questioningly, “You kidding? Why would I want anyone else?”
His words make you melt, you don’t know what this is, if it’s a friends with benefits situation or something more but either way, you like it.
“I’ll delete his number if you play scrabble with me,” you smile mischievously at him.
He flops onto his back and groans dramatically at you, “Fine.”
Moving closer to him, you kiss his cheek, and it makes him blush. Yeah, you like whatever this is.
ᖭི༏ᖫྀ
A/N: Thank you for reading it all !!! This took me a bit to finish but I am happy with it. I struggled most with the truth or dare scene and making things flow but in the end it’s a made up scenario and we all wanna fuck Kung Lao so 🤷‍♀️ 🤷‍♀️ Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed it <333 As per usual, if you have any requests, feelings, thoughts, questions, please don’t hesitate to reach out !!! I love you all <33 For the scrabble game, cwm isn't a misspell on my part, there is a legitimate scrabble word spelt cwm and is defined as: a steep-walled semicircular basin in a mountain; may contain a lake Ax is also just a variation on the usual spelling of axe and I think that is dumb, I like scrabble and think these two words would irk me, especially if I lost because of them lmao
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literaila · 2 months
Note
how do u think satoru would react to reader in a depressive episode, especially what do u think the kids would do
obviously, they’ve all noticed.
the past couple of weeks have not been lived through ignorantly. and you have not been acting normal.
the differences are just that, at first. tiny inconsistencies in your otherwise normal personality, your routine.
and then it becomes more than just a… change.
it starts off simple; megumi’s brows furrowing when you ask him a question—something about his teacher, or what kind of drink he wants in his lunch that day—and then forget what you’ve just said as soon as he answers.
tsumiki watching, smiling along idly, as you rub your temples, sighing with every other sentence and squeezing your eyes tight like you’ll be able to wake up if you try hard enough.
and satoru noticing when you linger in your room a bit longer, as the days pass. staring when you freeze looking at the wall in the morning, zoning out so hard that he has to shake you back to life.
just an accumulation of things that might indicate that something is up.
but as these moments—moments when you’re lost in your head, trying to conceal your entire being from all of them, and pretending that it’s all normal—increase, the three of them learn a little something about observing.
and lying to themselves, of course.
eventually, though, when megumi or tsumiki inevitably say something—usually when you’re not in the room, off hiding somewhere—satoru just shrugs.
(he’s going to lie his way through this, just like everything else, thank you).
“it’s a bad day,” he’ll say, like the two children will comprehend that. like they don’t know what a bad day means. “she’s just tired.”
he could make a million excuses for you. oh, you didn’t get enough sleep last night. oh, you’ve only had one cup of coffee today. oh, the world is a truly terrible place and it’s only natural that it runs you down.
but he leaves them with the simplest of explanations, instead. maybe it’s his subtle way of denying that there’s anything wrong. that you could be upset about something. it doesn’t matter, anyway.
and tsumiki, ever so trusting of all of you, listens to him. if satoru says that you’re okay, then so does she. she’ll draw you a picture at school or try to help you make their lunches in the morning, but you’re fine. her questions end with an answer.
megumi, on the other hand, has never believed a word that satoru has said.
so when the older man swears that you’re okay, that they don’t need to worry, megumi only begins to worry harder.
he sees that look on your face when you walk in the room, and megumi knows. maybe it’s because he’s the most attuned to you, out of everyone, in particular. maybe it’s because he’s observant, or too worrisome for his age (as you tell him).
but he knows.
and if satoru says one thing, megumi’s going to believe the other.
(plus the two of you have always had a symbiotic relationship. you worry about him, and he worries about you. you laugh at him, and he gives a little lip twitch in return).
so satoru is not surprised when megumi brings it up for the fourth time in a week.
“you want me to what, exactly?”
“you can talk to them, can’t you?” he repeats, giving satoru a bland look. something like ‘are you serious.’ “they know you.”
satoru snorts. “i don’t think my bosses will appreciate me telling them what they can or can’t do.”
megumi gives him another look.
and yeah, so satoru already does that. they still don’t appreciate it.
he sighs, smiling at the boy. anything to mess with him, really. he ruffles megumi’s hair. “kid, she’s fine. i can’t just tell them to give her a couple of weeks off. there has to be a reason. and,” he adds, cheerfully. “i’ve been told it’s impolite to speak on someone’s behalf without their input.”
“you don’t care about being polite,” megumi argues, crossing his arms.
satoru groans internally. he’s really not going to let this go.
it’s not that satoru necessarily disagrees, but anything he does to help you is going to be refuted with a “butt out,” or “leave me alone, satoru.”
“true,” he says, grinning as he mocks the boys stance. “but i do care about being yelled at. particularly by your mother.”
“she needs a break.”
satoru rolls his eyes. “she’s getting one. the next couple of days are free, and she’s taking a nap right now.”
megumi frowns, even deeper than usual, and stares satoru down until he breaks.
“megumi,” the man groans, childishly, pushing the boy out of the room. “you don’t need to worry about her. chill out. just go back to reading about rocks or whatever you were doing.”
“it’s geology.”
satoru waves a hand, indifferent.
(secretly trying to come up with a way to get you to talk to him. he can’t ask because you’ll just ignore him. he can’t force it out of you because that would get the two of you nowhere.
what other options are left, really? you’ve put satoru in a terrible position).
“then can we get something, instead?” megumi asks, almost pleading. “flowers, or… whatever girls like.”
“y/n already has flowers. i bought them.”
“buy something else.”
“who taught you to be this stubborn?”
megumi only scowls at him.
satoru sighs, scratching his head. he knows he should do something—but he’s so used to sitting around and waiting for you to fix everything.
yes, he does recognize that it’s a terrible habit, and completely unfair. he also recognizes that he is the worst person in the world.
eventually he sighs. “okay. how about i order dinner?” he asks, almost wincing. it’s the most natural response—everything can be fixed with food, in satoru’s sophisticated opinion. “that’ll be easy. want to go ask mom what she wants?”
megumi practically runs to your room, leaving satoru with no time to remind him that you’re probably asleep, knocking just briefly—from what satoru can hear—before going in.
he tip-toes up to the door, also wanting to check in.
satoru is nothing if not nosy.
and he might as well let megumi do all of the dirty work.
“um, i don’t care,” he hears you saying. “whatever you guys want.”
“it’s for you.”
there’s a pause. then, “really, megs, i’m not very hungry, so…”
megumi is frowning down at you when satoru steps in.
“good nap?” he asks, smiling and sitting at the edge of your bed.
“you don’t need to get dinner. it’s my turn.”
he waves a hand. “i feel like takeout.”
you frown, about to argue when megumi speaks up, glancing between the two of you with an almost furious expression.
“what’s wrong?” he asks, his voice soft but mad. like usual. satoru realizes that he’s been tricked into contributing to this.
“what?”
“why are you upset?”
“upset?” you repeat, eyes widening. “i’m not upset, megu—“
“are you sick?”
“no,” you say, immediately. “i’m just a little tired but it’s—“
“megumi,” satoru interrupts, trying to ignore the almost hurt look on your face—the glance you send his way, pleading and worried. he knows you hate this the most. “let’s let mom sleep some more, okay? tsumiki and you can decide what you want—“
“no.”
and neither of you can argue, or console the confused boy, before he’s climbing into your bed with a determined look on his face.
satoru tried to grab on to him, but megumi is having none of that, shaking him off before he can get a good grip. you’re looking at satoru anxiously, and this is the worst.
if satoru knows anything about you, it’s that you don’t want to be coddled. you don’t want to accept any help, even if it’s from your sweet, concerned son.
“megumi—“ you say, though, satoru notes, don’t make any attempts to move him when he struggles to get under the covers with you, or when he just sits by your side, barely touching you.
“i’m staying here.”
“really, bud, i’m okay. you don’t need to worry about me.”
“you’re sad.”
“i’m not.”
megumi looks at you, and satoru watches as you both share a glance. an internal conversation he’ll never get to be apart of.
for once in his life he’s not even jealous about it.
“it’s…” you say, but the two boys watch as your shoulders slack and your face drops. all at once, you lose color, life, and just sit there. “it’s fine.”
you say it to them, but it sounds more like a reminder to yourself.
satoru’s face falls. he has no idea what to say, what to do to help you—he’s spent so much time denying that there was anything wrong, that he could do anything to help, and now he’s got no answers.
he feels like an idiot, sitting there. megumi shouldn’t be taking more initiative, he should be the one worrying about you, the one to go to—
megumi doesn’t say anything though. he only moves closer to you, not complaining when your arm wraps around his shoulder and you hold him to you.
like a life vest. a support in all of the vastness.
he doesn’t need to say ‘it’s okay,’ or ‘i’m here for you,’ for the words to ring out across the the air.
and, satoru realizes, quickly, he’s only doing what you do for them. what you do best.
climbing in beside them and making sure they know that they’re not alone. being that support, no matter how unwanted.
megumi’s learned from the best.
“sorry,” you mutter to him. “i know im gross.”
megumi shakes his head and settles into you even further. and the boy doesn’t cuddle—or, at least, without being forced—but your face softens as he leans against you, allowing this kind of intimacy.
and, maybe, satoru thinks, that’s the problem with all of you.
no one knows quite what to say. what to do to help someone with something that they can’t understand. neither he or megumi is sure how to dig you out of this hole.
none of you are very good with words.
but, at least, satoru knows how to be good at this.
he sets his glasses on your bedside table, and he moves you both over with ease, smiling when you both grunt at his intrusion.
and then you’re a tower of people, all leaning against one another. building blocks stacked on top of each other.
you relax into satoru almost instantly and he kisses the top of your head, feeling some sort of pride—just at the fact that you’ll let him be here, with you.
maybe that’s the thing with families, he thinks. no one needs to say anything for it to be okay.
and the uneasiness sits there with all of you. the past couple of weeks—the distancing and disassociating—linger there.
there’s nothing he can say to make everything all better. he could destroy the entire world right now, save for your house, and it still wouldn’t be enough.
but this is nice. a hug might not fix everything, but it won’t make anything worse
and after a minute or two, you say: “where’s tsumiki?”
and she peeks her head out from your door, smiling at all three of you. it takes her three seconds to jump on the bed, having been waiting there the whole time, the final piece to your messed up puzzle.
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vroomvroomcircuit · 19 days
Text
Drive all Night
(A/N): This is inspired by the song "Call your mom" by Noah Kahan.
Summary: Max is worried about the sudden shift in his best friends behavior. But he is willing to drive all night to get to the root of the problem.
Pairing: Max Verstappen x fem!reader (little childhood friends to lovers on the side with angst/hurt to comfort)
Warnings: Association to Max's shitty childhood, reader has depression/a depressive episode, implicit mentions of suicide, listen to the song and you get the vibe
Wordcount: 2.4k
🏎Masterlist🏎 ________________________
Max Verstappen is not a big worrier. Actually, he is no worrier at all.
When there is something to worry about, he just changes it. If he can’t change it, it’s out of his area of responsibility, so he doesn’t have to worry about it.
Thinking like that helped him focus through great challenges. But his mindset wasn’t the only motivator. Through all his highest highs and lowest lows, his best friend has been right next to him, either cheering him on or being the shoulder to cry on he just needed.
(Y/N) and him befriended each other in kindergarten, having felt this unexplainable pull to each other. Ever since playing with Legos together for the first time they had been inseparable if they could help it.
Of course, as they got older and Max’s career in karting took off and (Y/N) had to focus more on school, they started to shift to calling and texting more than relying on in person talking. But that didn’t stop them staying best friends. One might even argue that through their 24/7 updates to each other, they grew even closer.
Meeting in person in their adulthood had become increasingly easier. Sometime (Y/N) travels with Max to several races back to back, being blessed with a remote working job.
The young man starts to suspect something isn’t going smoothly during one of their daily face time calls with her being in her dark bedroom and him in a hotel room halfway across the world. “But enough of how annoying these marketing things are. What did you do today? Except for work of course.” Max just finished another yapping season about the last challenge the social media teams had him participate in.
(Y/N) just shrugs her shoulders while focusing on a loose thread in her shirt. “Nothing much. I reread pride and prejudice.” Max halts a bit in his rummaging through his suitcase, being on the look out for his charger. “I thought you had plans for lunch with a friend? And didn’t you read through that book last week already? You do know that no matter how often you read it, the ending will stay the same.” He jokes a bit.
While still not shifting her gaze towards the phone screen, (Y/N) answers in mumbles. “I canceled on her. I really felt icky today, but we will try to set up another meet up some time next week or so.”
At first Max doesn’t think of it as much. Everyone feels not like socializing every one in a while. But then something else changes. The frequency of their calls and texts.
“...here we can do- Max? Are you even listening to me?” Max gets caught off guard by that question. GP was going over some points with him before starting FP2. “Oh, uhm, sorry GP. Gimme three seconds, I just want to reply to (Y/N). It seems like she didn’t have a great day and I just want to make sure she’ll be alright until I’m out of the car.”
This makes his race engineer raise his eyebrows. “Oh, what happened?” “I don’t know. But she is rewatching one of her comfort shows for the third time in two weeks.” He blinks at the Dutchman. “And in what way is that concerning?”
Okay, voicing his worrisome thoughts out loud like that makes Max realize that the signs are not too obvious for outsiders. But he is talking about his best friend. The person that always makes sure that he won’t go without his needed amount of sleep. The same person he had been having phone calls that resulted in four out of the last seven nights with him getting not more than 5 hours of sleep, if that at all.
For an outsider it doesn’t seem bad for (Y/N) to reread the same books and rewatch the same shows over and over again. Or having her best friend, the person she became emotionally most dependent on, talk with her through her nights.
But for Max, it raises red flags. It hits his alarm bells, ringing out loud that something is majorly wrong. He can’t put his finger on it, not just yet. He is still looking for a way to get her to tell him what is bothering her.
There is a certain uneasiness to Max during that entire race weekend. He is just itching to seat his ass on a plane on his way back to his (Y/N), a friend that he might harbor more than just platonic feelings for. A person that had his back all the time.
To the person he loves the most, that is also struggling the most right now.
He wants to be able to pay her back for all the times she stuck through his darkest times.
But something in him is scared that he isn’t able to get to her in time. “Didn’t you want to go out with a colleague of yours for drinks last night?” Max asks into the phone while speed walking through the airport. Ever since leaving his hotel room on this fine Monday morning, he has been on a phone call with (Y/N).
A sigh greets his ears. “I wanted to, but I didn’t feel like dressing up or sharing a space with a bunch of strangers. I just ordered some food in and watched your race.”
There is another red flag. (Y/N) maybe was never a big socializer to begin with, but she liked going out every now and then. But for a couple of weeks now the only thing Max gets to hear about plans is that she canceled them.
Listening to her just cutting contact with the outside world like that, it doesn’t only worry him. It’s not even scary. It terrifies him.
The two of them continue talking the whole plane ride until (Y/N) falls asleep. Even then Max doesn’t hang up. He still lets the call continue, not wanting her to wake up and feel alone. She doesn’t deserve to feel alone.
No one does. But especially not her.
When he was in karting, some kids gave him grief for winning most of the time. It was difficult for little Max to understand. So do people not want him to win?
It became more confusing to him since some people around him wanted him to win desperately. It hurt him, not understanding the difference of who wanted his best and who wanted to see him fail.
He felt isolated from his peers, especially those who should understand under what pressure he was, because they must feel the same. Right?
During these days, where he rather stopped driving in circles in a very fast manner and just continued playing football, (Y/N) was his only footing. She talked him out of ending his career in motorsport. She painted a picture of his future in the prettiest colors with her words. She gave him something to look forward during these trying times.
And when it got harder before it got easier, she held his hand and reminded him that she will always stay by his side.
Now it’s Max’s turn to show her that he will always stay by her side.
He opens the door to her apartment slowly, trying to make the least noise possible.
Every room is shrouded in what must feel to her like a never ending darkness. The blinds are drawn in front of every window, hindering the tiniest bit of sunlight to filter through. Even to Max it feels like the despair that is in the air will never stop. It is all consuming.
He tiptoes towards her bedroom. There she lays, illuminated by the low light of his phone screen. Curled up tight under a bunch of blankets and between a mountain of pillows and stuffed animals.
The MV lion, the first one that has ever been produced, the original prototype before giving the go for mass production, is held tightly and close to her chest. It pulls on his heartstrings, seeing the comfort it must have brought her while he was absent.
Max kneels down at the head of the bed, gently shaking her awake. “Schatje, come on. Wake up. We got a day of new adventures just in front of us outside the door.”
It’s something they started to say in elementary school. They once read a book in class with the premise that every day is the start to a new adventure. You just have to welcome it in. Back then, when inviting something unknown in your life was considered exciting, not scary or life changing.
“The adventures can wait a day longer.” She mumbles and turns around, trying to shake his hand on her shoulder off. But Max is having none of it.
“The darkness is fooling you. Every light that has been turned off can be turned on.” He gets up and opens the blinds. Sunlight floods the room, and even at the messiest state the young man has seen his best friend, she still is the most beautiful woman on earth to him
(Y/N) lets out a noise of unpleasantness. “Please Max, I can’t deal with it today.”  “No, you will. We are going to deal with it, whatever this it is, together.” He marches over to her dresser and produces a clean set of clothes out of thin air. That is what it looks like to her in this mess at least.
“You are going to shower. After that we will take a drive with no destination.” His words are final and in a tone that makes the young woman drag her limbs and body out of the bed and trudge towards the bathroom, even when the unwillingness is evident by her groaning.
Hearing the shower is Max’s cue to sit down and take a deep breath. He doesn’t know what he expected, but seeing the light of life missing in (Y/N)’s eyes isn’t on that list. It feels like a punch to his gut, witnessing her wither away without knowing from what.
It doesn’t take long and they both sit in the car. A drive without destination is exactly what it says. Just Max driving with (Y/N) sitting in the passenger seat. Usually they used these trips to catch up, to talk about everything and nothing. To voice big philosophical thoughts and dumb brain farts. They started this tradition, that usually includes some sort of fast food, when Max got his drivers license.
But sitting in complete silence for five minutes straight. That is something new.
“You know,” Max breaks it after another seven minutes. “Not talking about it won’t make the problem go away. It also doesn’t hinder it in its existence. Instead it will just get heavier and heavier until you break under the weight.” His dry tone isn’t something she anticipated.
(Y/N) looks out the window, seeing the colorful sunset for the first time in weeks. It’s easy to forget the beauty of the world when your inside thoughts feel like a graveyard. “I don’t want to worry you.”
That admission nearly has the Dutchman emergency breaking in the middle of a street through the fields. “So you play cat and mouse with your feelings because you don’t want to worry me?” (Y/N) nods.
Max lets out a laugh. “So what exactly makes you think that me witnessing you just becoming a shell of who you once were won’t worry me?”
She shrugs. (Y/N) didn’t expect him to catch that something feels wrong in her.
“Schatje. I will always worry about you, You are too important to me to not worry about you. Seeing you wither away in yourself, it made me scared going out on these tracks, sitting down in the car, and wondering if you still breathe while I’m driving another mile. Not knowing what you feel, that worries me more than the truth. Because then we can work on getting you better together. But when you don’t let me in, I can’t help and feel like by just standing and witnessing without intervening that I’m at fault for anything that happens to you. It hurts more seeing you hurting than knowing what you hurt from.”
She turns towards Max, mustering his side profile. She hasn’t thought about how her actions are perceived by her surroundings. (Y/N) just fell into that hole of darkness unexpectedly. While sitting at the bottom of that somber pit, she thought that trying to reach out for help would mean another person gets pulled into it.
If there was one person she doesn’t want sitting next to her in that dark hole, then it is Max. She harbors too much love and affection for him to want him to suffer the same fate as her. So not talking about her darkest thoughts seemed like the best way of keeping him far away from the hole.
But it just drew him in closer.
(Y/N) finally sees what he saw the whole time.
“You know, it’s hard to explain what happened. It takes time to really understand what goes on in me right now.” Max puts a reassuring hand on her leg. “We have all night to talk about it. Help me help you. Let us find a strategy to get you better. May it be medication, meditation, punching me or falling in love with someone. I need you to find a reason to stay with me, physically and mentally.”
She puts a hand over hers and looks Max in the eye for the first time since he arrived. “I already fell in love.”
He doesn’t need to hear more.
Max keeps his promise. He drives through the night, holding (Y/N) to the best of his ability while she cries, curses and explains.
By that not everything is picture perfect again. But it’s the first step. The first one to a future they both want to share with each other. For now and ever, that is enough motivation for (Y/N) to keep going, to continue turning every light on that was off.
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portgasdwrld · 10 months
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Hiii <3
Could you maybe write the monster trio + ace reacting to when their s/o is sick and has a fever? I’ve been pretty sick this week and I think this would be a cute idea T-T
Tysm<3
Hiii, you are my first ask and yes no problem! I hope you will feel better soon 🤍 Sending you much strength 🫶🏻
I Hope you will like it somehow. I didn’t know truly what direction I wanted to go but I would like to think it still satisfied your demand💕it’s 2am here so sorry for any mistakes, I will correct later 🤷🏻‍♀️
📂Op men + sick s/o reader
Featuring: Monster trio + Ace
Warning: Pure fluff so none, F!reader
Note: I got carried away. I wrote sm oml 💀
Luffy
Your name was being screamed across the ship by none other than the captain himself. He was excited to show you a new goofy trick that Chopper and him had come up with. But when he didn’t receive any response from you, he turned to the small reindeer with a confused expression.
-Oi, where is y/n ?
-She said she felt dizzy so she went to lie down in her room.
Nami answered him while putting down her magazine. She furrowed her eyebrows now also worried about your silent behaviour. It’s been now around three hours since you had left. You weren’t one to be overly loud like your boyfriend, but having you completely out of sight was worrisome.
-Aahh?! Nami! You should’ve told me she was feeling unwell!
Chopper screamed worried as he ran across the ship to grab his medical bag. He ran to your room, soon followed by Luffy and Nami.
As they opened the door, they watched your frame all curled up in the sheets as if it was cold outside. Luffy ran to you and touched your warm forehead.
-Chopper ! She’s burning hot! Do something!
-Yes!
Your eyes slightly opened from all the noises suddenly filled in your room.
-Everyone…what are y’all doing here…
-Y/N! ARE YOU OKAY?!
Luffy screamed happy to see you awake.
-DON’T SCREAM LIKE THAT! ITS NOT GONNA HELP HER HEADACHE AND FEVER!
-You are one to talk…, he mumbled under his breath after being yelled at by Nami.
-I think you simply caught a cold. I will ask Sanji to make you something warm and you will eat some medicine to help your fever go down.
Chopper concluded as he looked at you with his big eyes, reassuring you that you will be okay. You weakly smiled.
-Thank you, Choppy
-Y/N! I will keep you company until you feel better !
He announced suddenly determined. He caressed your hair softly and his eyes filled with worries. Nami shook her head and gave you a sorry smile.
-You don’t have to… I’m fine…
-No, you’re not. I will stay here with you until you are yourself again. I won’t leave you alone.
He retorted suddenly full of seriousness. It wasn’t like him to be so serious about things in general, but seeing him like that with you made your heart warm.
He indeed stayed the whole day and the day after too. He kept you company until you started feeling better.
He tried to make you laugh by telling you stupid stories about his childhood and doing goofy ass shit. He would ask Sanji to make you the best nutritive food he could so you will heal faster. He cuddled with you at night even though Chopper told him he could catch your cold. He tried his best to brush your hair, but he let that to Nami after failing miserably 💀.
He tried his best to make you forget you were suffering even though it could be just for a second. If he was able to make you smile, he considered you were slowly getting better. He loves you so much. So for him, you needed to stay by his side until you both achieved your goals and more, and he was gonna make sure of it.
Zoro
-Zoro, I think we’re lost.
-No we are not.
He said convinced of himself. You rolled your eyes well aware of the direction skills of your boyfriend. Y’all stopped for a second trying to figure your position (mostly you) in this jungle. You leaned against a tree and let your body slide down until you were sat on the ground. Your head leaned on the tree as you searched for the map you found on the ground yesterday.
-Aren’t you a bit too exhausted for a little walk in the forest?
Zoro teased unaware with a slight chuckle as he watched your frame completely relying on the tree to hold your body. You have been sweating a lot more than you are used to and fatigue waves were hitting your body since y’all slept in this jungle. You didn’t say anything not wanting to worry your boyfriend or the crew, but it was starting to take a toll on you.
-Yeah, I don’t know…
You replied without much interest to bicker with him. You pulled the map out of your bag and started to try to localize y’all position.
-Hey, are you okay?
You feel your boyfriend tower over you, creating a much needed shade. You blinked at him as you felt your vision getting weak and nodded. He shook his head and leaned towards you and placed his hand on your forehead.
-You are burning. We need to get you to Chopper.
-No don’t bother, I’m alright. It’s probably the heat from this place.
-Y/n, you’re obviously not feeling your best. You’re sweating and your body is barely keeping you conscious at this rate.
-I’m fine seriously.
You insisted with now tears in your eyes because of a sudden sharp pain you felt in your head. You had a bad headache in the morning but it seemed to have left, but now it came back even worse. Zoro eyes filled with worries seeing your eyes get teary. He picked up your body in a bridal style and pecked your forehead.
-Okay let’s try to find the others as quick as we can.
You chuckled knowing it would probably take hours with his poor direction skills. You let your head rest on his chest and closed your eyes. You trusted him no matter what anyway.
-Okay
It was the last word you said before you fell asleep in his arms. Sanji and Chopper had randomly fell on the both of you as Zoro was walking with you in his arms and yelling the crews name to grab their attention. He explained shortly the situation to the doctor. They decided it would be better to head back to the ship.
After some time you opened your eyes and saw y’all were still walking in this warm jungle, but with now Sanji at the front followed by Chopper.
-You’re awake? How do you feel?
Zoro deep voice asked you softly, but his eyes were still following the cooks figure.
-I’m okay, thank you for carrying me.
He didn’t reply but simply smiled and nodded. His eyes looked down at you with a rare grin.
-Let’s just heal you already so we can go back to our explorations.
-More like finding our way out of being lost, you mumble weakly with a weak smirk.
-Yeah yeah whatever.
Sanji
-What a beautiful day, especially when I’m accompanied by my beautiful lady~
Sanji exclaimed while lightening up the cigarette at the edge of his lips. He tightened slightly his grip of your hand as he gave you a sweet look. You chuckled and rested your head for few seconds on his shoulders.
-Of course, how could I say no to a grocery shopping with my beloved man.
He blushed like crazy at the nickname and left a quick kiss on your cheek.
-AHHHH, Im so lucky to have you~ Look! The vegetables look fresh which is perfect when we have to sail for a long time.
He excitedly walked to the few standing shops to see the quality of the vegetables and you followed behind him, your hands still intertwined in his.
You weren’t paying much attention to what he was saying due to a little fever you caught this morning. You didn’t know the cause but you were still able to function, it was just giving you a harder time to do simple task. Like walking around the new island and spending time with your boyfriend, it was surprisingly more demanding than you would’ve thought.
-Did I lost you, ma jolie ?
He asked worried that he got carried away with his excitement to try new ingredients and buy fresh food for everyone. You used your other hand to caress his arm and reassure him.
-Of course not, I’m sorry. I think the heat is getting to me, it’s making me feel a little dizzy.
-Would you like to sit somewhere in the shade until you feel better ? We can go back to the ship if you want? I will make you something refreshing.
-I think sitting in the shade for a moment could help.
-Alright my love.
He kissed you once again and you two walked to a cafe and sat on one of the table on the terrasse. He ordered a cold drink for each of you. You closed your eyes and let your body lean over the back of the chair. You felt nauseous on top of the fever, it wasn’t your day.
-You look pale, darling.
Sanji expressed in a soft and worried tone.
-I think I’m sick, you retorted plainly, accepting your fate. You hated being sick but you knew not to push yourself too hard to heal faster.
-Should we head back to the Sunny ?
-I will. You still have to shop for the food. It’s important.
-You are important too. It won’t kill anyone if I do it tomorrow or later.
-Sanji, we can’t afford staying somewhere too long. Robin stayed on the ship, I’m sure we will figure something out until Chopper comes back.
-Are you sure darling? Let me at least walk you to ship and make sure you are okay before I go. Please?
You sighed and a smile curved your lips.
-I cant say no to you, can’t I ?
He smirked satisfied. After drinking your refreshers and paying, you both started to walk to the Sunny.
-Do you want me to carry you?
Sanji asked looking down at you. You were walking a little slow and you seemed out of breath. Your sweaty hand was tightly holding into your boyfriends one. He pushed your hair behind your ear and you blushed a little.
-I think I can do it…
-Like I’m gonna let my lady walk all the way to the ship in a sickness state.
He retorted determined after you turned him down. You secretly smiled to yourself. You loved how much of gentleman he was. He carried you all the way to the Sunny and asked Robin to take care of you until the doctor was back from his exploration.
He made sure she would run to any doctor if your state got worse. You reassured him it was simply a little fever and you were fine. He reluctantly left after making sure you were all comfortable in your sheets, that you had your favourite snacks, a big water bottle, your favorite books, etc.
-You are sure, you don’t want me to stay?
-Sanji, I swear to god if you don’t go I will kick your ass out of the boat.
He caressed your hair back and pecked the top of your head. He lifted your face by putting his finger under your chin as if he was trying to read your eyes and make sure you were truly honest with him. He gave you a long kiss on the lips and brushed your cheek with his thumb before pulling back.
-Alright! I WILL BE BACK SO REST A LOT! I WILL MAKE YOU A GOOD SOUP!
He exclaimed as he ran out of your room. Robin walked in after his departure to check up on you. You collapsed in your bed, eyes closed as sleep took over you. Robin shook lightly her head as she closed the door behind her. You stayed strong in front of him just not to worry him. Sanji made a bussing soup when he returned tho.
Ace
-So my girlfriend is sick ?
Ace spoke as he opened the door of your room. You were reading a book that you bought not too long ago at the last island y’all stopped. Your eyes looked at your freckled lover that had just bursted into your space.
-I guess I’m not so untouchable, you declared sarcastically with a smile. He scoffed and walked over to your bed. He softly grabbed your face and kissed you.
-Aren’t you scared of being sick by kissing me, you idiot.
-Like I care, I know I have my pretty girl who will take care of me.
-I ain’t no doctor Fire boy. The only nurse fantasy you will get is Marco.
-Can you not put images in my head.
You both started to laugh. He sat on your bed and stared at you.
-What
You finally ask after he stayed silent.
-You are still cute even in that state.
You lightly push his big arm as you roll your eyes. You were really self aware that your hair was a little bit a mess and you had a red nose. It wasn’t your best day, but it still made you blush to hear those words from him.
-I got you some candies. I know those are your favourite.
-Omg, I was in need of those. Thank you!
You exclaimed at the view of the candies in the small bag he had brought. Your pulled him into you and pressed your lips against his. He smiled against your lips and pulled away.
-I thought you were worried about me getting sick too.
He muttered barely few inches away from your lips. You grinned and wrapped your arms around his neck.
-Shut up and cuddle with me.
-Don’t you have a fever?
He asked conscious of his abnormal body temperature because of his DF.
-Yeah but my body feels cold. You know how getting sick just fucks up your body temperature.
He shrugged his shoulders not truly sure to understand what you meant but he kissed your lips again before pushing himself in the bed next to you.
-Sooo, what were you reading?
-A romance book- oh babe, can you grab the bottle on my desk? Marco told me to drink some this morning before he left but I got distracted.
He nodded and stood up grabbing the bottle for you on the desk. He opened it and poured some on a spoon.
-Open your mouth.
You grinned and opened your mouth. You drank the bitter medicine with a slight chill going down your spine.
-Damn that was gross
You said while sticking your tongue out.
-When it’s gross, it means it’s gonna work fast.
You perked your eyebrow at him and smiled.
-Since when are you a doctor, baby?
-Since my pretty girl is sick.
He replied after jumping in your bed and pulling you to rest on his chest. You closed your eyes to just enjoy the moment. You let your arm rest on his waist as your ear was pressed against his chest, hearing his soft heart beats.
-I think I’m already feeling a little bit better, you comment as you feel your body relax in his embrace.
A silent fell between you two. You furrowed your eyebrows.
-Ace ?
You looked up only to see he was dead asleep.
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