I’m only asking cause if you wanna write some petty jealousy stuff, I think it could be fun if Vince took Bella out to try and cheer her up. Maybe he involves the rest of the guys and Lucas finds out about it somehow and gets all pouty because they’re supposed to be his friends and it’s her own fault if she’s miserable, he wanted to get back together weeks ago. Or Vince takes her out by himself and Wendy gets jealous (even though he probably told her about it ahead of time)
Sadly I don't think I can go with either in this case. While Vince absolutely would take Bella out to cheer her up, I think Wendy leans much more to the Bell side of the divorce than Luke's, so she wouldn't be jealous as much as she'd feel really bad for her and probably join in the team up.
Meanwhile Luke is moving on to the "gotta win her back/how could I lose this girl" mentality, so we're a little past the anger stage. At least in the queue we are, I'm not quite sure on what's been posted or not 😅😅
The two scenarios I could see with lukebell is Bella overhearing some girls, since she works as IT in the university, gush about the fact the captain of the football team is single and wanting to make moves or even exaggerating some interactions with Luke.
OR Lucas having to come to terms that Bella is actually putting work to move on from him, seeing her on a date.
I'd love to write Lucas absolutely crawling up the walls when a friend from New Mexico of Bella's comes to the town to stay too and suddenly she's got not just a new guy friend, but one she dated before. However I'd save this plot for when they're back together, because then there's the added conflict that Lucas really can't afford to be a huge bitch about it now.
imagine a sickie going through a lengthy explanation about some topic, just as the nausea sets in. you notice how their voice sounds a bit shaky, just slightly deeper, they seem to be slurring a bit. until they have to pause, and swallow. when they talk again, you can almost hear the lump in their throat.
what was that? you know, so you tell them to continue. sickie goes on, talking a bit slower so you can understand and they don't choke. it doesn't work, and they have to pause again, swallowing audibly this time.
their voice is thick with nausea when they talk again. and they trail off into an airy gasp, their mouth is open, their lips are puckered and you can tell they are trying not to gag. it fails, and you hear when their throat convulses and their tongue curls, it is a wet sound. a gurgle follows but it's short-lived as they swallow yet again.
what did you say? you ask, trying to sound clueless. sickie starts again, but is interrupted by another gag. this one is harsh and you hear just as they lose control of their voice, letting out a small whimper. they press a fist to their mouth, trying to suppress the next gag, but it forces it's way past him.
sickie, everything alright? you finally ask when they go completely silent. sickie tries to speak, gets half a word out, maybe even less than that before they retch into their fist. you hear the gurgle traveling up their throat, and you hear the violent rush of stomach contents into their hand, you even the splatter on the floor, and the thick slurry dripping.
then a moment of silence, before a small timid voice tells you the obvious: they just threw up all over themselves.
Ahhhhh hello!!! If I could give a request . . . maybe an angst Jonah x Leo fic where Jonah says something about Leo’s past (it’s a bit traumatic, right?) and Leo like freaks out or smth which Jonah doesn’t realize at first. But then it ends happily?? With fluffffffffffffffff at the end PLEASE!!!!
It's torture time baby (with fluff at the end).
TW: discussion of a past suicide, panic attack.
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Leo was more than a little sloshed. He tugged on the lapel of Jonah's blazer, stripping it at the door, clumsy fingers trying to undo the buttons of his shirt while they stumbled inside mid kiss.
Jonah smiled into his mouth, a hand cupping the back of Leo's neck and tugging on his t-shirt, pulling it up. They ditched it on the living room, almost tripped on the rug and Jon chuckled, stopping them from falling as they walked further into the house.
Leo happily allowed his boyfriend to shove him back on the bed, grabby hands immediately going for his social pants and undoing his belt - Jonah's phone ringing, loudly, interrupted them. Leo groaned, grabbing his boyfriend's hips.
"Don't pick up," he said, tipsy, planting a bunch of kisses over Jonah's abs, "let it ring."
Jonah chuckled, pushing him on the bed and kissed him again, "I have to pick up, baby, it could be the hospital."
"I don't care," Leo groaned, wrapping a leg around Jonah's and trapping him, "let it ring."
"I'm sorry," Jonah grinned, still kissing him and slowly peeled them away, reaching for the phone in his back pocket. Leo pouted, letting his head hit the mattress.
He was pleasantly wine drunk, which translated into fuzzy and horny quite well. Maybe Jonah did have a point about good wines and bad wines.
He glanced down, noticing Jonah's eyebrows had taken a dip, all of his own buzz having vanished.
"Who is it?" Leo asked, confused over the reaction and Jonah scoffed.
"My mom," he rolled his eyes, picking up the phone, "Jackie it is quite late."
Leo frowned as he watched his boyfriend's expression go from uninterested to exasperated and then Jonah got up and left the room without a word.
Well, so much for a good night.
He rolled off the bed, heading to the bathroom to finish stripping and brush his teeth. Leo was halfway through flossing when Jonah entered the bathroom and hugged him from behind.
"Sorry about that," he sighed, planting a kiss on his neck.
Leo smiled, rolling his eyes, "it's fine, but mood's over," he said in a muffled manner, leaning to wash his mouth once more, "what did she want that was so urgent?"
"It seems my meddling mother has found pictures of us together when she was doing her nightly stalking," Jonah said, grabbing his own toothbrush, "she's going to be in town next month, she wanted to have a lowkey get together, whatever does that mean."
"I'm sorry?" Leo frowned, more confused than before.
"She wants to meet you," Jonah cleared up, starting to brush his teeth. Leo's heart missed a beat and he fought a smile.
"Well isn't that good?"
"I'd rather kill myself, thanks," Jonah scoffed, circling him so he could have the sink.
Leo's faint smile quickly vanished and he nodded, walking back into the room.
Jonah frowned, glancing over his shoulder to look at him go, but Leo didn't spare him a glance and he figured he had just gotten pouty over the whole meeting the parents business. They could talk in a moment.
He took his sweet time doing his night routine, wine tipsy or not it was no excuse to miss his seventeen steps skincare and then finished stripping, walking back into the room.
Much to his dismay, Leo was not in bed like he expected him to be, sulking or not.
"Leo?" Jonah called, confused and walking out of the suite, "Le-" he found him in the living room. Or rather, outside the living room, in the balcony area, braced against the railing.
"Uh... What are we doing out here...?" Jon asked, pushing the glass door open and moving closer to get a better look at Leo's face. He expected an angry frown, but what met him was a distressed look.
"I... I can't- Can't breathe."
"What do you mean you can't breathe?" Jonah scrambled, grabbing his naked arms and turning him around. It was too fucking cold for either of them to be standing outside in just boxers, but Leo didn't seem aware of this or anything else.
He clawed at his throat and Jonah grabbed his hands, pushing them down so he could plant his fingers on his boyfriend's throat, "baby, baby, hey- Let me check, let me-" he said, more frantic by the second as he watched Leo try and fail to take a deep breath. He didn't find anything obstructing his throat, nothing indicating it was an allergic reaction, "Leo, look at me- Look at me," Jonah grabbed his chin, forcing their eyes to meet and Leo looked every bit like a cornered animal.
He sucked in air, wheezing, and shook his head, "can't- Can't br-breathe-"
"You can, look at me," Jonah grabbed his boyfriend's hand, planting it over his naked chest and took in a deep breath himself, making sure his chest raised with it, "c'mon, mimic me. Through your nose, baby."
"I- I..."
"Shhh, don't try to speak," Jonah took another deep breath, his hand that wasn't holding Leo's to his chest reaching out to grab him by the shoulder, steadying him. The blonde was shaking like a leaf, if it was because of the panic attack or the cold, Jon wasn't sure.
Leo took a deep, shaky breath, and then dissolved into a coughing fit. He tried, again, to take another breath, in the middle of all the wheezing, only to gag harshly.
"Shit," Jonah sighed, realizing just where this was going, "okay, baby, turn around-" he tried to get Leo to face the balcony railing, but while Leo was a couple inches shorter than him, he certainly was not small and distraught the way that he was, there was no manhandling him.
Instead Leo fell down to a knee, bracing against the balcony chair with one hand, the other pressed to his chest as he tried to breathe, "I'm- I can't, I can't, I- The fan-"
"Leo," Jonah crouched down behind him and rubbed his back, "baby, look at me. You're safe, you're here with me," he said quietly, since there was no fan in the apartment whatsoever, "look at me."
"Sick- sick of me," Leo groaned, then sucked in another shaky breath and burst into tears. Big fat tears and his whole pale face turning bright red with the intensity of the crying.
"No one is sick of you," Jonah scoffed, squeezing his arm, "Leo, please, I-"
He heard another harsh gag and then the sound of liquid hitting the stone ground of the balcony, alongside a moan. Jonah turned his face towards the opposite side, breathing shallowly through his mouth.
Another soft sob and then it seemed throwing up had snapped Leo out of the attack, even if it had left him completely disoriented. He was panting quietly, but the sobbing had gone down.
"Leo?"
"I... Fuck, I got sick-"
"That's fine," Jonah swallowed in thickly, still not daring to look back, "are you with me?"
"Yeah..." Leo mumbled, completely spent, "I'm sorry, I'll clean-"
"Shut up, let's go back inside," Jonah scoffed, getting up still without looking and holding a hand blindly for his boyfriend. Leo's fingers were clammy in his, shaky and his pulse was still racing.
"I'm sorry, Jon-"
"It's fucking fine," Jonah snapped, planting a fist to his lips and muffling a wet belch. He tried not to think of the wine-y mess covering his balcony and the same wine swirling inside his stomach... He gagged again and groaned, "let's go inside, okay?"
"O-ok," Leo sounded just as close to tears as minutes before and Jonah wanted to calm him down, but it was taking all of him to avoid the puddle of sick and keep his stomach in check at the same time.
Once they were back inside, however, Jonah managed to turn around to face him. Leo's big blue eyes were huge on his face, causing him to look even younger than he already did.
"Hey..." Jonah sighed, cupping his face, "you're good?"
Leo nodded, wordlessly and glanced past Jon's shoulder, "I'm sorry-"
"What happened?" Jonah ignored the needless apology, tugging Leo back to the bedroom and sitting down next to him on the bed. His boyfriend's naked knee had scraped when he went down, it was bleeding, not that the blonde had noticed.
"Nothing, I just- Anxiety."
"I'm not stupid," Jonah scoffed, reaching in and pushing the hair away from his sweaty forehead, "tell me." It was less a request, more of an order, but Leo didn't seem offended.
"I... You said-" he wrung his hands, glaring at a spot in the turned off television across from them, "when I was ten- No, when I was... Was eighteen..."
"When you were eighteen...?" Jonah pushed, no longer just concerned, but starting to feel something very close to dread crawl inside of him. This wasn't just a regular panic attack over insecurities, very far from it.
"I- my dad..." Leo's eyes were brimming with tears and he opened his mouth to try and finish the sentence, but all he managed was to shake his head and cause the tears to fall, "he-he-"
Jonah wiped the tears away, fighting his own anxious impatience, "Leo, breathe in."
He obeyed, letting out the air in a wheeze, then sniffled, wiping the tears angrily, "he said uhm- He didn't like me. Because- because mom uh- she left."
Jonah's eyebrows furrowed, "Leo, I doubt that was your fault-"
"-So uh," Leo coughed, trying to clear his throat, "so he was mean and he'd say things..."
"Things?"
"Like- Like I'd be better off dead... Like he would be better off-" His voice trailed off and Jonah started to feel the overwhelming urge to tell Leo to stop. This a lot more than he was expecting and he knew he was only just scratching the surface, "and then- then one day I- Well, he did it."
"He did what?", Jonah pressed, furious and completely missing the point, unsure of where to even start putting all that anger, "Leo what did your fuck up of a father do?"
"killed himself," Leo said in a small voice, "he said- He said he'd do it, that I was killing him, and then he d-did."
"What the fuck," Jon scoffed, but his mouth was completely disconnected from his body, because he was already pulling Leo into a tight, strong hug, all but tackling him, "Leo, baby, that was not your fault, that wasn't- I didn't mean what I said," he mumbled, feverishly as he realized what had triggered all of this, "no, Leo, hey-"
He cupped his boyfriend's face, forcing their eyes to meet, "I fucking love you, alright? My life is better with you, not the opposite and your father- Fuck that man. Fuck him. Everyone's life is better with you in it, you'd never-"
"Jon you're strangling me," Leo whispered, smiling weakly and trying to deflect the attention, but Jonah's brain was overwhelmed with emotion.
He hadn't felt this close to crying in quite some time, "I didn't fucking mean it like that. It was a poor taste joke, but even- Even the joke, it wasn't about you, you have to believe me. It was because my mom is a meddler and- and- fuck," Jonah felt completely out of himself with anger, at Leo's stupid mom for leaving, his stupid father for daring to say that to his kid and then dying, and at himself, "I love you, I-"
"Jonah," Leo chuckled, looking slightly amused, "you're panicking."
"I just... I love you," Jonah mumbled, undone and hugging him tightly. He was an asshole, but the last thing he wanted was for Leo to think he didn't love him. That he'd rather kill himself than-, "I didn't mean any of that, it was a joke..."
"I know, I know," Leo sighed, melting into the hug, "I know, it's just... What's so bad about me meeting your family...? I want to be a part of your life."
"And you are," Jonah pulled back, looking at him strongly, "this is my life, you realize this, right? This right here?"
"You know what I meant," Leo shrugged, wiping away the stubborn tears. Jonah nodded, taking a deep breath himself.
"There's nothing wrong with you, okay? It's not you-"
"It's not you, it's me?" Leo raised his eyebrows and Jonah's mouth snapped shut and he glared at him.
"Let me finish," he held him a little stronger, his fingers leaving red marks on Leo's pale shoulders, "Jackie is just a lot. She's a meddler and my relationship with her is strained already, but if- You can meet her, okay? If it's important, then you can meet her, because you are important to me."
Leo's cheeks blushed and he rolled his eyes, "aren't you a poet."
Jonah let out a sigh of relief, "I didn't mean what I said, Leo, I'm sorry. I'm fucking sorry."
"I know," Leo nodded, falling on his back on the bed and covering his eyes, which were swollen from crying, "I know, it's just-"
"Trauma," Jonah agreed, lying next to him, combing his fingers through the waves of golden hair, "are you alright?"
"Yeah," he smiled, exhausted, "cuddle me?"
Jonah wordlessly wrapped himself around his boyfriend, much less for the other man's comfort than it was for his own. He couldn't remember ever feeling this scared.
Leo's hand rested in the middle of his naked back and he sighed deeply, "don't say stuff like that again."
"I won't," Jonah promised, holding him so tightly he was sure to leave bruises, "I won't."
some people here reblog very very cool posts and i'd love to reblog them too (normally whump/sick dialogue), but i can tell the OP is a vanilla blog and my paranoia will not allow me to be note 45k in that post, you know? What if they somehow come for me
here’s that fic i talked about with being stuck under someone with a sick tummy 😋. i had heaps of fun writing this one.
cw for semi explicit content, making someone puke (sticking their fingers down their throat), discussion of kink
also maybe time skip of like five years, so they’re 24 ish cause why not lol.
—-
Caine and Quinn often fell asleep on top of each other, and it had never posed any issue so far. Caine had stayed awake playing with Quinn’s hair. It had gotten a little longer than normal and he was begging Quinn to never cut it. Long hair was just superior, Caine didn’t make the rules. Quinn had drifted to sleep in the past thirty minutes or so, snoring lightly on Caine’s chest. His hands were resting on either side of Caine’s body. If anyone were to come in they would probably assume Quinn fell on to Caine and didn’t want to get back up.
Caine was content to stay awake though, he quite enjoyed letting Quinn sleep. It sounded creepy but watching him sleep made his heart full. Everything that had been troubling him suddenly disappears and his face morphs into innocence. Caine can’t resist giving him kisses he won’t feel, touching and rubbing every solid area of Quinn’s body. It’s almost like he experiences cuteness aggression with his boyfriend, screaming into his hands when he catches him snoozing anywhere.
He didn’t mind being crushed under Quinn either. The warmth and heaviness drained his stress and created a barrier between him and the rest of the world. It was comforting.
Quinn was slowly easing into deeper sleep but every now and then his body twitched and brought him back. Caine shushed him each time, one hand still fiddling with his hair and the other running softly down the length of Quinn’s back. His gentle touches weren’t enough though to stop the tiny movements. Quinn was also letting out these tiny sighs and grunts that interrupted his breathing. When this happened, Caine’s eyes kept darting down to look at Quinn’s, making sure that he was still resting.
The next anomaly was Quinn’s stomach. With the way they were lying, Caine’s own stomach was almost directly under Quinn’s and he could feel each time he inhaled and exhaled. Along with his breathing, there were little gurgles happening inside Quinn’s belly. He originally had thought the boy was getting hungry, but they didn’t seem like empty growls. These ones were thick and pushed through his stomach like molasses, coating Quinn’s tummy in sick sounds.
Caine, with all his soul, was freaking out about this. It didn’t sound or feel very pleasant, but Caine was having trouble containing himself. Quinn’s noisy belly let out another sick gurgle, one that travelled from his actual stomach to lower down his belly. Quinn moaned sleepily and moved his head, smushing up Caine’s shirt. Caine’s hands no longer had the strength to play with Quinn’s hair, instead he was clamping his mouth shut with both of them. His boyfriend was clearly in pain, but there was something so incredibly erotic about being able to feel each gurgle and hear each moan so close to his ear.
Another growl and this time Quinn’s legs curled up. He moaned again and Caine felt himself flush red. He gritted his teeth and put his hands back on Quinn, down by his tailbone. He tapped and glided his fingers along the area, feeling a little guilty he was doing almost nothing to soothe Quinn. It was just too good. His brain thought of all the possible reasons as to why Quinn’s stomach was bothering him. While he was daydreaming, Quinn’s belly had grown more upset and it wasn’t letting up with the noises. Each growl and gurgle pierced Caine’s ears and made the boy on top of him squirm.
The more he squirmed, the worse he made his belly. Each time he moved, Caine could swear he felt the contents slosh and groan, churning up whatever was inside to mush. As Caine felt more grumbles, Quinn whimpered and his limp hands suddenly curled underneath Caine’s back. He jolted at the touch a little, but Caine let it happen. Quinn was probably going to wake up soon so he wanted to savour this. Caine felt Quinn’s belly contort and a loud grumble echoed out, making Quinn moan and squeeze his hands tighter around him.
Fuck, Caine thought to himself. There was another crucial part to this dilemma too. Not only was Quinn’s belly turning his brain to goo, everytime Quinn squirmed he was doing so right on his dick. As soon as he woke up, Caine would have to push him right off if he wanted to keep his dignity. It was almost unfair.
Quinn’s hands squeezed, his belly jumped and a sick sounding burp fell out of his mouth. Caine had to stifle a groan. He was actually about to explode. He looked down at Quinn and found that his brow was contorted and his mouth was open like he was panting. As he watched, Quinn let out another involuntary burp and he groaned out a miserable noise. He didn’t know how much longer to let this go on; he debated whether to wake him up or enjoy this for a little longer. It was probably quite cruel to let Quinn stay in pain, but…for a few more minutes.
So, for the next few minutes Quinn kept moaning and groaning, squirming on top of him and occasionally burping and hiccuping. A particularly sick gurgle broke through the overall noise and Quinn’s head jumped upwards, and it seemed he was finally awake. Caine immediately went into caretaker mode.
He groaned, “Caine.” His voice was gravelly. Quinn tried to roll over but he curled inwards, instead sliding down off of Caine until he was kneeling in between his legs. He moaned, one of his hands came up to cup under his chin as a bit of spit escaped. Caine could only watch. Quinn’s eyes were half shut, his cheeks were flushed and his hair was mussed from his sleep. His ‘fucked out’ look was made ever better with him on the verge of gagging and his hand digging into his belly.
Caine wanted to capture this moment in his brain forever. He sat up and grabbed Quinn’s shoulders.
“Hey, hey, love, look at me.” Quinn’s frantic eyes locked on to his, watery and red. Caine’s hand pushed up Quinn’s hair, touching his forehead at the same time. He had quite a fever. “It’s okay, calm down.”
Quinn shook his head, “No, no, I-I’m…I don’t feel good. Sick.”
“I know.” Caine leant up to kiss Quinn’s forehead. As he did so, Quinn’s throat made a strange noise, and he was suddenly much closer than before. He burped and a splashing sound alerted Caine to the fact that his boyfriend was now being sick. He rubbed Quinn’s back as he coughed, another strangled sound came out of his mouth and more vomit puddled in between the two boys. Quinn moaned as he panted, leaning more and more on Caine’s chest. He burped again but nothing happened, so he lifted his head and looked at the mess he’d made.
“Oh, Caine, I'm so sorry. My belly…”
Caine couldn’t be mad at him. Honestly, he was more grossed out with himself for being so turned on from this. His lap was dripping with puke and his boyfriend was still moaning and spitting saliva that dribbled from his lips. When Quinn finally looked at him, the vomit stuck to the corner of his mouth and the tears trailing down his cheeks was enough to make Caine’s eyes widen and his cheeks burn. It was criminal how good Quinn looked right now.
While he stared, Quinn’s stomach gurgled again and he heaved, bringing up a small amount of bile that fell down his chin. He dropped his head and another burp forced up another mouthful, making him cough and splutter. Quinn’s hands were pushing in on his belly, and by the looks of it, it was a little bloated from being upset. Caine didn’t think this could get any better.
He was wrong. When Quinn pushed in on his tummy, he groaned and gagged yet nothing came up. So, the next logical thing was for him to look up and meet Caine’s eyes and whine out a sentence Caine had been pretty much dreaming of.
“Can you help me? I still need to puke, my belly won’t let me.” He moaned out each word, pain and nausea lacing the syllables. Caine was dumbstruck.
He pointed to the bed, “R-Right here? We should probably move to the bathroom.”
Quinn wasn’t having it. He whined as moved a little closer to Caine and grabbed one of his hands. The boys touch was shaky and warm, hands sweaty with exertion. He brought it up to his mouth and let’s Caine’s fingers touch his chin.
“Please. My poor tummy needs to be emptied.”
There was a moment where Caine thought he was dreaming. This was single-handedly the hottest and weirdest thing that had ever happened to him. Quinn was acting so strange, but if he needed help, Caine wasn’t going to deny him. He crawled around to be beside Quinn instead as Quinn’s hand dropped from his own, now cradling his stomach again. Caine kissed Quinn’s shoulder as he inserted his fingers, feeling spit and residues of puke on them.
He got closer to the back of Quinn’s mouth and felt a hiccup and then the vibrations of a moan, Quinn’s mouth dropping open a little more to let him have access. Caine’s heart was pounding. His free hand went around Quinn’s waist, his fingers rubbing a little. He could feel how bloated Quinn’s stomach was from this angle too, pushed out far against his ribs like he’d eaten a big meal. Quinn’s belly rippled as he hiccuped again, but still no puke.
Caine was taking too long, he felt Quinn’s hand come up to push his hand in further and he almost choked on it. Caine pushed him away.
“Hey, hey, I’ve got it. Don’t worry babe. Relax.”
Quinn whined, “Please hurry. My belly is killing me.”
“I will.” He kissed Quinn’s shoulder again. His fingers pushed inside again and he felt some more saliva trickle out of Quinn’s mouth. The nausea was ramping up it seemed. Quinn’s belly gurgled loudly and his hands gripped it, one on either side and showing off his swollen gut. He leaned back onto Caine, now rubbing his belly from side to side as it grumbled at him to get a move on. Quinn tossed his head on to Caine’s shoulder and moaned. Caine’s fingers eventually reached the back of his throat again, but he was too focused on the way Quinn’s belly was almost being presented to him. He wished Quinn’s shirt was off so he could see how stretched his skin was. Maybe his lower belly would still be soft, the sickness not reaching there yet. It gurgled again and Caine bit back a moan of pleasure.
Back to the task at hand, he guided Quinn to sit back up again and his other hand curled further around to rest on the bloat of his belly. As he did so, he jammed his fingers into Quinn’s throat and the boy jerked forward. His throat spasmed on his fingers, more and more saliva dribbling out. Caine tried again, and this time Quinn coughed up a small amount of bile. He moaned and rubbed his belly.
Caine leant forward, “How about as I push on your throat, you push on your belly. Try to get as much up as possible, yeah?”
Quinn’s eyes met Caine’s and he could tell the boy was sceptical. “It’ll be okay, baby. I know your tummy hurts but it’ll only be for a second, and then you’ll feel so much better.” Caine whispered, kissing Quinn’s temple.
The other boy whimpered but he felt him nod. Caine smiled and moved so he could be directly behind Quinn, one hand in his mouth and the other resting on his stomach. He rubbed a soothing motion into his shirt.
“Ready baby?”
Quinn nodded.
“Okay, push hard. 3,2,1”
The strategy worked. Quinn let out a retch that brought up the last bits of puke. Vomit coated Caine’s arm as he pulled it out of his boyfriends mouth. He let it hover over Quinn’s legs as the boy continued to puke, burping and moaning as it tapered off. The noises and the way Quinn looked was too much for him. Caine’s eyes squeezed shut as he came, that final heave going straight to his already painfully erect cock and sending him over the edge. Both boys panted, Caine’s head resting on Quinn’s broad back as Quinn spat out the bitterness of his puke.
Caine’s clean hand rubbed along Quinn’s belly again, needing to feel the final churns and jumps as Quinn burped. Fuck, he was so screwed.
They both were quiet for a few minutes. Quinn was coming down from the intense nausea, and Caine was coming down from…well, you know. But, Quinn broke the silence first as he leaned back into Caine.
“Thank you. Can we please go get cleaned up now?”
Caine raised his head, “Yeah, yeah, for sure. Come on, i’ll help you.”
Caine got off the bed first and helped Quinn move. He was careful not to let Quinn’s legs get even more covered in vomit. He got Quinn into the bathroom and turned the water on. He let Quinn undress as he went to get the sheets off the bed, he was a little worried about them staining the mattress. When he got back to the bathroom, Quinn was only in his underwear and was sitting on the toilet seat.
He looked up, “I got a little dizzy. And my stomach started hurting again.”
Caine couldn’t help but chuckle. He went over to the boy and cupped his jaw, pressing a kiss to his forehead, “That’s okay, the warm water will help.”
Quinn opted to lean a lot on Caine. Caine didn’t mind, his hands were on Quinn’s belly and helping him get clean and feel better. The shower was uneventful in terms of vomiting, but Caine was glad. Quinn was completely silent during it and had his eyes closed. Clearly this was taking it out of him.
It was only after they were dressed and on the couch that Quinn spoke.
“Caine…what was that?”
Caine stiffened. Quinn was resting on his chest now, breathing slowly with his eyes closed. He had a feeling he knew what he was talking about but didn’t really want to admit it.
“What?” He said dumbly.
Quinn raised his head off his chest, now making eye contact. His expression was exhausted.
“Before, when I was sick. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” The face he was pulling wasn’t one of disgust or judgement. Caine stared right back at his boyfriend. He felt his cheeks heat up and his lip was slowly being chewed down to nothing.
Quinn laughed and one of his hands came up to touch one of Caine’s red cheeks. He leaned forward and kissed his nose, “You look frozen, baby. It’s okay.”
Was he dreaming? He had been so good at hiding it for so long, but this one incident made it all come out. He smiled awkwardly.
“I’m so sorry, Quinn. I’m not some creep who gets off to you being sick. I do care about you. I’ll be there if you’re sick.” He rambled, only shutting up when Quinn’s hand covered his mouth.
“I’m not disgusted by you. It’s something new, yeah, but I love you. I’m not going to hate you or call you gross for something you can’t control.” He leaned back down into Caine, “Do you think I haven’t noticed before? You’re always touching my stomach when you get the chance and you almost ask me to rub my stomach when I’m sick.”
Caine felt his body relax a little. He let his hands touch Quinn again but nowhere near his belly.
“I thought I was hiding it pretty well.”
Quinn laughed, “I can see right through you, my love. But, at least you don’t have to hide it anymore. I was pretty sick before but I said some of those things just to get a reaction out of you. I guess it worked.”
Caine was still confused. How he managed to find a person so understanding was a little perplexing. But, as he sank back into the couch, Quinn laid down fully and stretched out onto his back. His stomach was covered by a shirt once again, but the sickness brewing underneath kept it swelled out to reveal his lower belly. Caine hesitated.
“Go on. It makes me feel better.” Quinn said with a soft voice. He touched Caine’s face again to make him look at him, “Behind all of this sexual tension, I still am very sick. Please, Caine, I don’t feel well.”
Caine’s eyes shut on their own and he breathed out deeply. Everything Quinn said was just making his head spin. He chanced a look and Quinn had his eyes shut, a grimace tugging at his features. His hands were resting on the upper part of his belly and Caine was desperate to replace them with his own.
So, he did. He gently pulled Quinn’s away and touched his stomach. The boy underneath him sighed, tucking his head inwards towards Caine’s stomach. Caine smiled and his other hand went to hold the back of the boys head, playing with the dark hair.
One where stress, overwork and a bad stomach bug leaves the Mikage heir in tatters. College AU
Sometimes Reo wondered if everything he did was even worth the actual effort he put in. Over the past few months, since the beginning of semester, he’d been getting less and less sleep, his hours extending from early morning classes and stretching into evening practice and subsequently all nighter assignments and projects.
That said - he did enjoy football practice, and he did love the courses he was taking at university.
Sometimes though, he found himself desperately wishing that the twenty four hours of a day were to either slow down or just extend longer than they did - something that would give him the leeway to just take some time away from the field or his study table and actually take a breather.
Which is what he did as he rested his head against the cool top of the desk next to his notes in class. The lecture was particularly tedious and covered a topic which Reo had already gone over with his father. Ideally irrespective of that, his eyes would be ever strained on the digital board at the front of the lecture hall, fingers scribbling down notes quickly and neatly, but today, something was different.
With the throbbing pain radiating across the inside of his skull, paying attention to his professor’s words seemed to get harder and harder with every passing minute. He finally ended up giving up around five minutes ago, his head dropping into his arms as he shielded off the glaring lights in the room as an attempt to ease the steady pounding behind his eyes.
There was only a couple of minutes left on the clock before the end of the class, so hopefully the teacher wouldn’t mention anything crucial to the semester. Plus, even if it did, hopefully the white haired individual sitting next him would have noted down something (even if he essentially scraped through this class by leaching off Reo’s notes).
Operations Management was the only class Reo actually shared with Nagi. With their university majors being pretty different, it was perhaps a stroke of luck that Nagi ended up choosing this among his optionals, while the class remained one of Reo’s integrals. That said, he still ended up seeing a lot of his best friend given that they were both among the only three freshmen who’d been called into the first string for the team.
Speaking of practice, Reo almost physically let out a groan. He wasn’t entirely sure why but a deep seated ache had been gnawing across his body since he woke up this morning and the notion of having to work his muscles while already sore was never exactly appealing, no matter how much you like a sport.
Not to mention his headache didn’t seem to be easing up any time soon either…
Maybe he was coming down with something. The thought occurred to Reo as a particularly nasty throb had him wincing - there had been a flu virus going across campus. Only last week Chigiri, his roommate, had come down with it so it would make sense if Reo managed to catch it from him.
The realisation though wasn’t very pleasant.
Midterms were approaching fast and quick and there wasn’t exactly any spare room of relaxation in Reo’s current itinerary. For all his academic brilliance, keeping up with the number of classes he had was in itself a superhuman feat, something which even a few hours less would impact. So actually coming down with something was a risky ordeal for him.
He’d just have to swallow his symptoms down with medicine and water he supposed, if it was indeed what he thought it was.
“Ne Reo-” a small, soft voice spoke up next to him, breaking him out of his thinking spree. Raising his head from his arms, Reo realised that he’d probably completely zoned out, since he’d somehow missed the class concluding and the teacher leaving the room. Nagi, who'd already gathered up the few stuff he’d actually lugged to class, was gazing at the purple haired boy with a look Reo couldn’t exactly put a label on.
Perhaps it was confusion. It would make sense - after all, Reo was usually the one nagging at Nagi to not fall asleep during class. His questioning looked to remain unanswered as Reo’s mind suddenly went blank, another flash of pain vibrating through his skull, triggering a new sensation of discomfort in his stomach.
Yup, definitely something wrong with him.
“Yeahhh,” he mumbled out, “I’m fine, just a bit off colour today, don’t worry.” He however, didn’t raise himself to his feet just yet, the cool sensation of the desk feeling far too comfortable against his unknowingly burning forehead. The silence from Nagi surprised him a little but then to be fair with their very recent patch up after a relatively big falling out, they were still playing on eggshells around each other.
It suddenly struck him though that the next hour was an off period for him - with his Statistics Professor having been invited to an All-Japan-Analytics Meet, the class had been suspended for a week, today being the fourth of the seven days. Which meant that he’d probably have time to catch a quick thirty minute nap back in his dorm room if he rushed.
With newfound zeal in his limbs, he stood, only to have his hands shooting out, fingers clutching against the desk as a wave of dizziness slammed into him, strong and disorienting. Unlike a headrush though it didn’t clear immediately, leaving Reo with his eyes scrunched shut, knuckles turning white with how he was holding the desk to keep himself from falling over.
The swirling sensation of the ground beneath his feet was just more than enough to promote his former sensation of discomfort to an actual defined sense of nausea. He felt a hand on his shoulder, cool fingers wrapping around the exposing skin where his shirt looped around his neck - familiar yet hesitant in the touch. Perhaps it was even more concerning that Reo’s instincts didn’t immediately have him moving away, them still not having reached the physical affection phase after their last argument.
Great, now of all people Nagi knew something was wrong with him.
Drawing in a breath to steady himself, he slowly opened his eyes as the nausea and dizziness both slowly ebbed away. He cast a sheepish grin at the white hair who was now looking at him with pointed concern. Nagi didn’t voice his questions, so it was left up to Reo to analyse the obvious question in the gaze, enquiring whether Reo was alright.
Had it been anyone other than Nagi, his pale face and near-keeling over episode would have been enough ground to establish that he wasn’t in fact alright. But despite all his genius, Nagi was far too gullible, especially in front of Reo, who basically intended to make a living out of white lies and smiles.
“I just haven’t been sleeping well,” he said, which wasn’t far from the truth, “Just stood up a bit too quick there.”
Reo dealt Nagi a lot of bold faced half-truths and this was yet another one of the same. Nagi’s grip on his shoulder loosened hesitantly as he removed himself from Reo’s personal space, allowing the purple haired boy to breathe a bit easier. He looked suspicious but knowing him, he wouldn’t press into a matter (just how bad had he looked that Nagi hadn’t accepted what he said at face value?)
“If that’s what Reo says…” he mumbled out, taking a few steps forward before stopping, an obvious notion for Reo to join him.
That reminded him that Nagi too had an off period every Thursday. With them hardly having talked in the past week, they hadn’t been able to plan anything out (which in hindsight was a good idea since Reo didn’t exactly feel upto socialising right now). Nagi’s notion, though, probably implied that he thought that they’d still be spending the hour together, probably just sitting together in silence on the roof, while Nagi clicked away at whatever new video game had interested him.
An appealing invite if his painkillers hadn’t been in the bedside drawer all the way in his dorm room, a fair walk away from the main building, and his body screaming for well, his bed in general.
“Ahh,” he said, once again feigning innocence as he started gathering up his stationary, “You go on ahead today, Nagi, I have to go work on something in the library.” Yet another lie, but a selling one since never in the years they’d spent together had Nagi ever joined him on his library adventures, no matter the bribe.
Nagi nodded at that - to be fair, the argument was believable since Reo had spent quite a few free periods and even lunch hours on study work this semester, trying to keep up with his own good grades. Whether those additional hours were good or bad was something only time would say.
“Are you sure you’re alright though?” Nagi voiced, eyes moving down towards Reo’s hands, where he himself hadn’t realised they were trembling. Fisting them and stuffling them into the pockets of his loose beige flannel shirt that he’d unconsciously dawned upon his lilac t-shirt this morning.
Reo nodded quickly, probably far too quickly for it to be nonchalant, but then if he was hiding something from Nagi, the white haired boy knew better than to try to poke it out of the Mikage. Those attempts never worked well, and the effort was probably quite misplaced. So with a nod of his own, and a small half handed wave, Nagi turned around and left the room, leaving Reo to collapse back into his seat, thoroughly confused on how even standing up had been exhausting.
***
Whoever had come up with the notion that sleep made you feel better was an absolute lying bastard and they would not live to see the next morning if Reo managed to find out who it was.
That said, with his current disposition he almost doubted he’d make it to the next morning.
If he’d left bad this morning, everything seemed to have heightened over the course of his “nap”. Which he’d conveniently slept right through his alarm and missed out on every other class of the day. In hindsight though, if he’d felt even a fraction of what he was feeling now he doubted he’d have been able to spend even a second in a crowded classroom.
His skin felt like it was on fire, sweat poured down his body in gallons to the point where his inner t-shirt was absolutely drenched. His head hurt pounding fit to burst, each throb sending waves of intense nausea through his body which had him stumbling out of the bed and barely making it to the bathroom, before he was violently heaving over the toilet.
He didn’t bring anything up though except mouthfuls of saliva, his chest and stomach in agony from the convulsions of the dry heaving. It left him panting and breathless, tears gathering in his eyes from the effort, frustration bleeding into every inch of his existence. Exhaustion creeping in Reo leaned his head against the edge of the porcelain bowl, sanitation temporarily forgotten as his body seemed to want to wring him out in a matter of hours.
Another wave of nausea went over him as he was once again sent over the bowl weakly gagging, a thin stream of drool dropping out of his parted lips. Right since he was a child, Reo never had an easy time throwing up. Even when he knew that losing his stomach would probably make him feel better. Sometimes he’d spend entire hours hunched over the bathroom with either Ba-ya or his mother sitting beside him rubbing circles on his back.
He most certainly missed them as yet another violent retch sent him bending over the toilet, unproductive yet ostensibly more painful. This round seemed to be particularly rough, heave after heave seemingly ripping his body apart in pain and exhaustion.
Leaning back against the wall once that bout was over, Reo drew in a sharp breath, hand raising itself to his face to wipe off both the perspiration and the tears. A part of Reo knew it was natural to get unwell from time to time, the other part was so irrationally upset that he just wanted to curl into a ball and sob himself to sleep.
The nausea had begun to take a backseat, the top concerns being replaced by his concern of whether or not he was fit enough to attend practice. Once again his brain found itself torn between rational and irrational - rational knowing well enough that he'd just worsen his own condition by even walking out of his dorm room while the irrational screamed in panic over how his position on such a top tier team could very well be shaken up over him suddenly missing practice.
Maybe that was just the fever reigning his mind as he stood up, using the sink as support as he leaned over, turning on the tap as he just stood there, letting the cold water run over his fingers. Chigiri would probably have yelled at him for wasting water if he were here but Reo couldn't really bring himself to care - not when the cold water seemed to bring a, though minimal, relief to his burning body.
It took him a few minutes of water running along his fingers and splashing into his face to regain a semblance of clarity. Looking into the mirror, he noted that his appearance had worsened since morning. His pallor was almost ashen, other than the feverish blush on his cheeks. His usually well maintained purple hair was an absolute mess with some parts sticking up and some parts matted down with sweat. To top it all off the dark circles under his eyes were probably dense enough for him to shrug them off as some variety of eye makeup.
He sighed to himself, running his hands through his hair, the simplistic movement itching further at his deep boned exhaustion. Opening up the cabinet beside the sink, he quickly dry swallowed a fever reducer and something to help with nausea, hoping fervently that the pills didn’t sit heavier in his stomach, while simultaneously thanking heavens that Chigiri labelled the bottles for symptom management because he was not even in a place to attempt to figure out which medicine helped what.
In hindsight, actually trying to go to the five pm practice in this condition was ostensibly dumber than Reo could physically even begin to imagine himself as.
They’d barely even started warmups and Reo felt his vision swimming dangerously, peripheral range zooming in and out. His nausea had returned to full swing, the stomach calmers doing absolutely nothing to help there, as the organ writhed angrily under his skin. The turf under his feet felt far too unsteady, strong chills working down his spine, despite the fact that he was sweating profusely.
He bent over, hands on his knees, eyes closed as he finally finished one of his workouts, understandably slower than his usual pace. His breath came short and gaspy, despite him attempting to draw them calm and deep to quell the nausea in his stomach. He felt a hand on his shoulder, coaxing him to look up.
A familiar head full of long, vibrant red hair invaded his vision, concern flooding his roommate’s red eyes.
“Reo-kun,” he said, voice attemptedly made gentle, “You’re clearly unwell, you need to stop pushing yourself,” Chigiri spoke, fingers squeezing tighter around the purple haired boy’s shoulder. The realization that Chigiri hadn’t needed much more than a look at him to say that he wasn’t holding himself up at all, was probably testament to how bad he was feeling, given that he was usually quite the reasonable and convincing actor.
“I’m fine,” he forced out, between gasps. Curt and short, “It's just a cold.”
Just a cold, my ass. Reo couldn’t help thinking as he spoke the words, back straightening up again as he gazed around the field, pointedly avoiding eye contact with Chigiri. The redhead was perceptive, much more so than Nagi, who had been the only other person to enquire about his condition today, and he knew that his lies were already falling short for this one. Ostensibly the fact that his eyes were likely to glaze over wouldn’t really help his case.
“Reo,” Chigiri continued, as the hand left the taller boy’s shoulder, “Nagi of all people noticed, and Rin’s been giving you these odd looks and the captain is obviously angry. I don’t think you even begin to realise how you’re looking.”
Reo’s hands ran along his face, a sigh escaping him, as he pressed down on his eyes, almost in an attempt to smother his face if possible. A small blush crept onto his cheeks which wasn’t directly associated with the fever, but more so the embarrassment that almost the entire team had been seeing through his facade. As a stab of pain once again reverberated through his skull, he didn’t bother to suppress the moan.
“... my head hurts a bit,” he admitted, revelling in the fact that that was likely to be the understatement of the year. Chigiri’s look conveyed that his thoughts probably resonated with Reo’s own. The redhead’s hand moved down from his shoulder to settle along his arm, an offer for support that they both knew Reo wouldn’t take.
Unless he actually passed out, his pride would probably make him walk out of the turf on his own, even if he had been sporting profusely bleeding stab wounds all over.
Chigiri didn't, however, let go as the two made their way over towards the benches where the rest of the team were trying awfully hard to pretend that they weren’t looking in their direction. The attempt though was absolutely horrible. Their captain Sae had a pointed look on his face, which wasn’t exactly angry or malicious but held an odd sense of understanding. Then again, Reo assumed that with Sae’s own levels of dedication to the sport, it was quite possible that he too had ventured onto the field in a similar condition.
Isagi and Bachira were both talking with each other, casting very unsubtle looks at Reo and Chigiri as the two of them made their way over, Chigiri helping Reo into one of the chairs, offering him a bottle of sports drink. While Reo accepted it, he didn’t really move to drink it, knowing that putting anything in his mouth right now would probably send him into another retching and heaving fit. Something which was probably inevitable at this point, but much preferred in the solitude of his dorm bathroom instead where the entire team could see him.
“Reo, you weren’t alright earlier.” A familiar voice filtered through the haze that was his mind, as he looked up to face Nagi. The white haired boy wore his usual neutral look, but the emotion was evident in his round orbs as he spoke. Reo’d spent years with Nagi, enough to be able to gouge exactly what Nagi was feeling right now. A part of him was disappointed that Reo had lied, while the other part… probably was nervous about whatever Reo would say next.
It wasn't a concern, because Nagi was likely not capable of actually feeling the amount of concern which would cause him to leave behind whatever he was doing and ask around. Or that’s what Reo told himself in the moment, the sudden emotion in the latter’s eyes, hitting his own, almost making him tear up. He bit his lower lip, head pointing down at the plastic grass of the turf once again.
Sae came to stand in front of him, beside Nagi, voice holding the same contempt he seemed to always speak with.
“Can you walk on your own?” He asked, a question Reo didn’t want to answer, because at this point he didn’t know if he could walk all the way back without passing out or throwing up or both of those. He didn’t voice that to the older boy though, simply giving him a sheepish nod.
Sae wasn’t one to unnecessarily poke either so with his nod to match Reo’s he continued, “Then go get some rest before I’m convinced that you’re attempting to start the zombie apocalypse or something.”
Getting to his feet though, proved to be another challenge as the moment he stood up, the ground shifted beneath his feet, sending waves of nausea and dizziness washing over him. His knees folded without much warning, as a whine escaped his lips. He’d probably have fallen to the ground if it weren’t for both Nagi and Sae’s reflexes as they both grabbed him by his arms, steadying him enough to keep him on his feet.
Sae let go though, allowing the white haired boy to support most of Reo’s weight. And even in that fever-addled, upset condition, he was hyper aware of how close he was to Nagi, a form of contact that he hadn’t exactly willingly initiated. He closed his eyes, burying his face into the boy’s shoulder blade, letting himself feel that moment of weakness. He’d already lost the image he’d been attempting to uphold, why make himself suffer further?
“He’s burning up,” he heard Nagi’s monotone speak, albeit it wasn’t exactly a monotone, when the slight spike of worry was evident in the boy’s tone. Who was he kidding? Obviously Nagi was worried about him. Maybe not to the extent Reo would be if the roles were switched, but he cared enough that Reo’s pain would make him drastically concerned.
“You don’t need to leave practice,” Chigiri said, presumably not to him, “I’ll take him over to our suite, I need to get myself a hair tie anyways.”
When Reo’s head finally stopped spinning, he moved himself out of Nagi’s grasp, his hand moved towards Chigiri who despite his shorter stature, quite comfortably draped his arm around his shoulder, the other arm moving to support him by the waist. There was a certain level of jostling though that seemed to set off fireworks in the young Mikage’s stomach, making him swallow down the saliva that flooded his mouth almost urgently. They’d barely reached the edge of the field when Reo realised he was fighting a losing battle.
“Chigiri-” he managed to rasp out, before bringing his hand up to his mouth, pressing down in an attempt to coax his brain into not immediately triggering his gag reflex.
But when did the universe really listen to him?
With a violent retch, Reo tore himself away from the redhead, stumbling a few feet away. His fingers wrapped around the fencing of the field as he sank onto the concrete, knees being too unsteady to hold his weight as his stomach worked to expel all of its contents.
For the moment, everything around him seemed to blur out, except the burning sensation of something thick and slimy crawling up his throat, as he helplessly gagged, a sour, rancid mixture of whatever he’d put into his stomach, pouring out of his lips in a gush. It was like a dam had been broken within him. He retched once again, the painful noise scraping his throat raw as another rush of half digested food made its way out of him, bitter and hot to the taste.
It was probably the texture and smell which made his stomach turn worse, as it heaved and heaved, not even giving the boy the time to breathe between retches as each movement brought about small amounts of the slurry, which splattered against the concrete. Tears freely flowed down Reo’s eyes, a building panic growing in his chest, as spots danced in his vision.
His body sagged further downward, his loose arm wrapping around his stomach in a desperate attempt to alleviate some of the agony he felt, but to no avail. The knuckles of the hand gripping the wire fence turned white as he heaved for what seemed like the umpteenth time, this time only bringing up burning stomach acid and bile, the liquid being painful enough to send him into another fit of tears.
It was when he was finally reduced to simply dry heaving once again, stomach wrangled out and empty that he registered the two people on either side of him. Chigiri’s gloved hand was holding his matted hair out of his face as he kneeled beside him, now simply holding his head up, keeping him from face planting into a massive puddle of his own puke.
On his other side stood Nagi, who was bent over, hand rubbing circles on Reo’s back. While the supposed massage didn’t do much to help Reo’s pain, the contact was what melted him, as he let his exhaustion get the better of him. His fingers uncurled from the fence, as he let out a pitiful sob. Turns out his position and his hand holding him up was his only source of support as his body tilted sideways. He probably would’ve hit the ground if it weren’t for a pair of arms steadying him.
Through half closed eyes and his own panting breaths, he could hear a familiar voice speak.
“I’ll take care of him,” it said, distant almost as though Reo was listening to someone speak through a wall of water, “He’s my…”
The rest of whatever the person was saying mellowed out as the darkness in Reo’s vision expanded. The last thing he registered was the same pair of hands lifting him off the ground, and the sense of temporary security he felt.
***
Reo woke up feeling as though he’d been hit by a truck.
It took him a moment to gouge his surroundings. He was… not in his room, that was for sure if the white ceiling in contrast to his own violet was anything to go by. The next thing he took in was that the room was rather dimly lit. Which was certainly a relief since his head was throbbing fit to burst. Did he end up getting a concussion during practice?
“Ah, Mikage-kun, you’re awake!” a slightly high pitched voice spoke up next to him, making him wince at the decibel as he moved his line of vision to the side, to catch sight of the dark haired boy with glasses break into a smile, “We were getting concerned that we’d have to get you to an actual hospital.”
… Yukimiya Kenyu.
One of the only pre-med students on the football team who basically had the additive job of poking and prodding over any injuries or illnesses that the players came down with.
“Yukimiya-kun-” he spoke, wincing as he realised how scratchy his own throat was. Bringing his hands up, he attempted to push himself up into a sitting position, only to have a rush of nauseating dizziness slam him right back into the mattress. Yukimiya invaded his direct vision again, face scrunched up in concern.
“Hey, hey, take it easy there, Macho Man!” he called, “You’re severely dehydrated so don’t go making sudden movements, you will keel over.” He however, didn’t leave Reo the way he was, helping the purple haired boy into a sitting position, helping himself back up against the back of the bed to support himself. The exhaustion in his body was deeply embedded, but now that the memories from what had perspired began returning to him, he realised he was probably feeling a bit better. Still thoroughly and completely ill, but at least he wasn’t throwing up and passing out on people anymore.
Speaking of people… it was then that Reo noted the mop of white hair which had its head buried in Reo’s sheets, asleep in a position that couldn’t possibly be comfortable. Especially with how tall Nagi was. He had pulled himself a chair and used the bed as a headrest - but knowing Nagi’s ability to sleep anywhere he wasn’t surprised to hear the soft snores emanate from the boy.
Hesitantly, he reached out to run his fingers through the messy white locks, a small smile playing on his lips.
Nagi had stayed by his side.
Taking in the tenderness in Reo’s expression, Yukimiya chuckled, “This guy here, gave me quite the fright when he came banging at my door at two in the morning. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so worried,” the older boy recalled as his own gaze went over to the now asleep Nagi, “Apparently you weren’t able to keep anything down and you were speaking worrying things in your sleep.”
“Ah…” was all Reo could say to that as he retracted his hand from Nagi’s hair to massage his own temple. The ever lazy Nagi had hung around to look after him when he was in such a bad condition, huh? Maybe all his doubts over the boy’s dedication towards him were moot after all. Yukimiya seemingly reading into his line of thought merely chuckled along.
Could you make a work where the reader is really into how violent Bachira is but is way too shy to say anything? Something about how he was so ready to throw down in that one episode did something to me 😩
Bachira is fun when he's cute but he's even more fun when he gets unhinged.
A/N: Get you someone who can do both for you. With consent of course.
You've seen Bachira lose his temper more then a few times and it was always directed at someone else, never at you
He's always gentle with you, only going hard when you ask
But when he goes hard, when he lets go of self control you're having trouble walking for days
It makes you want him to be even rougher with you, you need the rush of adrenaline that comes just from watching him when he's in that state
Because you're too shy to ask for it directly you let him get on top of you, to get the make out session going
And just when its getting hot and heavy and his hands start to pull at your clothes you take them and wrap bring one to your neck, the other to your hair
He's so taken back that his fingers squeeze from recoil, making you moan out the most down bad moan he's ever heard from you
Well they do say that its always the quiet ones who are the freakiest, and you both fit that bill
Being given permission to he will gladly push you on your stomach, a in your hair, one on your throat and keeping himself right behind you, pulling every time he wants you to back up against him but also squeezing when you start grinding to fast
What's the rush, this is a first time experience for you right, don't you want it to last?
Could you make a work where the reader is really into how violent Bachira is but is way too shy to say anything? Something about how he was so ready to throw down in that one episode did something to me 😩
Bachira is fun when he's cute but he's even more fun when he gets unhinged.
A/N: Get you someone who can do both for you. With consent of course.
You've seen Bachira lose his temper more then a few times and it was always directed at someone else, never at you
He's always gentle with you, only going hard when you ask
But when he goes hard, when he lets go of self control you're having trouble walking for days
It makes you want him to be even rougher with you, you need the rush of adrenaline that comes just from watching him when he's in that state
Because you're too shy to ask for it directly you let him get on top of you, to get the make out session going
And just when its getting hot and heavy and his hands start to pull at your clothes you take them and wrap bring one to your neck, the other to your hair
He's so taken back that his fingers squeeze from recoil, making you moan out the most down bad moan he's ever heard from you
Well they do say that its always the quiet ones who are the freakiest, and you both fit that bill
Being given permission to he will gladly push you on your stomach, a in your hair, one on your throat and keeping himself right behind you, pulling every time he wants you to back up against him but also squeezing when you start grinding to fast
What's the rush, this is a first time experience for you right, don't you want it to last?
Gorou, Itto and Tighnari through a rut and you aren't there.
You got me.. I am SO down bad for this... and I won't elaborate on that more than I already have.
Characters Included: Gorou; Tighnari; Itto
Content: gender neutral reader; posessiveness; talk about animalistic features; talk of breeding; talk of overstimulation; semi-public; not proof read yet!
Word count: 1,6k words
Please tell me if I forgot to mention anything Content-wise!!
Minors do NOT interact!
Gorou
Whiny as FUCK
Like, Gorou is already a pretty clingy lover, but even more so when his rut is just around the corner
he is attached to you by the hip, never leaving you out of his sight, unless he absolutely HAS to. And even then, he makes it a point to return to your side as soon as the issue is taken care of
you know his rut is coming around when he starts acting like this, like you would disappear if he didn't keep a watchful eye on you
during this "Pre-rut" he growls at any other man that dares come close to you
he pulls you more into him, arms protectively around you as he growls and throws death glares at the other person
during his rut, he's not able to leave you alone for more than a minute. He is whiny as fuck, always demanding your attention to be on him. He always has to touch you
Normally, the sex with Gorou is pretty tame, he himself being a switch outside of his rut, but leaning more to the submissive side
during rut however, you can never find a way to overpower him. He pushes you down against the mattress, pushing his cock into you. He can't waist another second without feeling you spasming around him
He knows he should prepare you more for it, but he just can't be bothered
Now, you left Watatsumi Island two weeks ago for a mission. It was only supposed to last a few days, but some unforseen complications arose and you had to extend your leave, and an end was not in sight yet
a few day ago, Gorou has entered his rut and he is desperate
He is rutting his cock against your pillow, his head burried in your favourite blanket to get a smell of you
He whines and moans so loudly, not caring that the people outside his tent can hear him
He calls your name over and over again
He's lost count on how many times he came already, but it's never enough. Rutting against your pillow just didn't hold up to the feeling of your hole clenching around him, knotting you so that not a drop of his cum would be wasted
he reaches down to stroke his dick at the thought of this, wailing as he came yet another time, but his cock didn't grow soft. So, he put his cock on the mattress, placing the pillow above it and started thrusting like this, imagining that it was you laying underneath him
he hated how he was so desperate for you, how he kept calling your name and begging for you to finally come back to him so he can breed you. Yet his prayers were left unanswered and he was forced to continue this madness..
Archons, he swore he would make your legs shake and quiver from overstimulation once you came back to him...
Tighnari
He's a bit more composed and level-headed than Gorou is
After all, Tighnari is mated to you, so there was no reason for him to follow you around everywhere and fend of other people. He knows you're just as committed to him as he is to you
And yet, when the time for his rut comes around, all those thoughts and reason are thrown out the window
When this time comes around, he grows restless, more snappy than ususal and far more sarcastic. He also has a pretty hard time concentrating on stuff, since he's very easily overstimulated right now
he keeps smelling you everywhere, he is hyperaware of his surroundings and his ears pick up on every little sound
You know his rut is right around the corner when he starts nesting
Since you're no hybrid like him, you don't have these kinds of instincts. He does, although they aren't ususally this strong. But he thinks he has to make up for this, so he takes over the nesting part, filling up the bed equally with shirts and pillows both used by him and you.
because as much as he wants to be surrounded by your scent while he fucks you, he wants you to have the same experience with his scent
normally, Tighnari is a dominant lover in bed, yet he's still gentle with you, worshipping you and giving you the pleasure you deserve before he thinks about his own desires
however, when in rut, he has no controll over his urges. He just takes you every way he desires
100% bites you, everywhere he gets the chance to, but prefers to bite down on your neck, especially when he comes deep inside of you
during his rut, he has moments of clarity, where he takes care of you, feeding you and making you drink water, before his instincts take hold of him again and he begins ravishing you again
this rut however, you're not here. A family emergency came up and you had to travel back to Mondstadt to help out your parents. And while you stayed in contact with Tighnari via letters, it wasn't enough for him to get him through his rut
he required your physical presence to feel better, it was driving him and his brain crazy that you were not here, in his arms, where you belong
on top of that, this rut seemed to be especially bad, his instincts going more haywire than they normally do
yet, he can do nothing else than to grind his cock into his hands, the tight grip he has on himself trying to mimic the feeling of your hole when he's inside you
his knot swells at the thought, but only when he's about to come does he loosen his grip on his dick so that his knot is now also surrounded by his hands
he imagines how you would moan and scratch his back like you usually do when he knots you, pumping you full of his cum
that image is what drives him over the edge finally, but the feeling of satisfaction doesn't settle, like all the times before
he whines, feeling desperate, starting to beg the empty space of his hut that please, please, please, make you appear in front of him magically so he can fuck you
but for now.. he just has to figure out a way to survive this horror of a rut without you...
Itto
Itto, just like Gorou, is attached to you by the hip
he is never seen without you around, and you can never be seen without him following you around like a lost puppy
It's cute most of the time, but it can also get annoying, especially in times where you just need a break but he keeps following you around, trying to hide around corners or behind bushes, failing to notice that he is still perfectly visible to everyone around, especially you
Pre-rut Itto would also be more whiny, but he also grows very sensitive to what you say
you mention something you like? He's already on his way to get it!
You say something about him that he has taken in a negative way? He gets big puppy eyes and asks you if you're sick of him and if you don't love him anymore
It can get annoying, but it's also really adorable since he's just so desperate to make you happy, no matter what way
at some point, you started to wonder if that behaviour before his rut starts may be some kind of compensation for how he acts DURING them
because, without exaggeration, Itto becomes so selfish during that time
he doesn't waste too much time preparing you, even though his cock is huge and it always hurt when he puts it in, no matter how long he prepares you beforehand
his thrusts are also relentless, the only goal in his mind being his release. He does hit your good points, but that more or less happens on accident thanks to his size once again
He is so vocal, too. Screams and moans without care on who might hear the two of you, he really can't be bothered
He tries to stimulate you as well, but he just feels so good, thrusting his thick cock inside of you, that he forgets to move his hand. You have to grind your hips against him to get the stimulation you need to also be pushed over the edge
He always apologizes for his behaviour profusely after his rut is over, but it happens again every time after that
however, as Itto has started his rut yesterday, you were no where to be seen with him
A friend of yours invited you out on a vacation. You both have misscalculated the time his rut would arrive, thinking you would make it back before then, you agreed to the trip
so, here he was now, having to deal with this alone for the first time since he has met you, and he wasn't happy about it
Itto pumped his cock in frustration, moaning your name loudly, his eyes closed as he imagined you, above him, riding his cock like you needed it to survive
the mental image was amazing, but it just doesn't come close to having you actually on him
another grunt came out as he thrusted his hips upwards, pickung up the pace of his hand
he focused on his memories, recalling how it felt to be inside you, how your hole always struggles to take him fully, yet you always clamp down on him so nicely
He comes for the nth time in his hand, pumping himself through his climax and for the hundreth time now he moans your name and wishes you would be here with him...
TW: discussions of chronical vertigo and depression. Not as angsty as this makes it seem, actually.
********
"Biscuits?" Jonah eyed the biscuits Leo planted before him warily. They had the greyish tone of healthy food that normally Jonah didn't mind, but that did very little today to calm down his stomach.
Ever since the shitshow of passing out on Vince, he had done some more investigating, only to come to the, frankly offensive, diagnosis of having labyrinthitis. Wasn't that just grand?
There was no actual cure, seeing as they came and went unexpectedly, but they weren't life threatening, just fucking annoying. The medication to get rid of a spell wasn't any better and while it didn't make him puke, it certainly put him off his appetite, which was what brought him to the current predicament of not eating for a whole day and his boyfriend's unfazed, blue stare.
"Yeah, biscuits," Leo shrugged, "I figured you'd be sick of saltines by now."
It was so sweet, Jonah wanted to cry. He blamed it on his overwhelmed emotions at being sick, shoved the desire as deep as he could and glared at the plastic jar, "I'll try them later."
"Try one now," Leo pushed, a little harder, a lot less sweet, "you need to get your strength back if you're planning to play by Saturday."
Jonah frowned, the vestiges of nausea all but forgotten, "but I'm not..." he stared at Leo, suddenly feeling uneasy.
Leo had been in a fury ever since his diagnose. Not quite doing the smothering mother henning that Lucas did, but almost. Part of Jonah had relished in that, he enjoyed knowing his boyfriend loved and cared for him, even enjoyed being babied a little bit... But something was off.
Something in the way Leo was furiously taking care of him wasn't like the previous times he had gotten sick near the guy, and that wasn't just because they were dating now. Something had changed and Jonah couldn't put his finger on it.
"The episode will have completely vanished by then," Leo shrugged, circling Jonah on the kitchen, in order to put away his bag on the couch.
"Leo," Jonah frowned, sitting up straight.
"And Luke said you could play," Leo continued, unbothered, which caused Jon to roll his eyes at him.
"Lucas is not the coach, you know?"
"Coach Eric doesn't do anything," Leo snorted, then walked back into the kitchen area, planting a kiss to Jonah's temple, "have a biscuit."
"Leo," Jonah grabbed his chin, forcing their eyes to meet. There was a manic glint in Leo's eyes, "I'm not playing Saturday."
"Aren't you feeling well?" Leo frowned, made a pitiful pouty face and his hands were immediately on Jonah's face, as if somehow he could feel the vertigo the same way he felt a fever.
"I'm fine," Jonah grabbed his wrists, stopping the fussing, "it's not- Leo, it's not just Saturday that I'm not playing, c'mon... You know that."
Jonah knew he had fucked up before the words were fully out of his mouth. He didn't know why or how, but he knew he had messed up. Leo pulled back, blinking as if he had been slapped, a wrinkle between his brows.
"The doctor said you could live life normally, Jon," he shook his head, "no, babe, look- I know it's been a rough couple of days-"
"It's not that," Jonah was beyond confused. He had been sure that his boyfriend was on the same page as him. Not just because of the vertigo, but because of how extraneous practice had become, how much he had to dedicate himself to the hospital duties too. Leo knew all of that... "Leo, you know I never wanted to be a professional football player, c'mon..."
"No, I know, I just-" Leo sounded completely taken back, which was more confusing than upsetting. Jonah frowned at him, watching as flashes of confusion, anger and annoyance all mingled together, "Yeah, I knew, sorry..."
There was a horrible, pregnant pause. Jonah almost apologized and took his words back. Leo looked painfully confused, wounded too.
"Leo?" He broke the horrible silence, unable to keep this for much longer, "say something?"
"It's nothing, I-" Leo shrugged, pulling back, a huge step backwards like he wanted to run out of the kitchen, "I'm just gonna, uh- I have an essay to finish, so yeah- I think I'm just gonna do that."
"Leo, say something about what we're talking," Jonah glared at him, "c'mon, I know-"
"I don't think it's my place - If you don't want to play, then don't play," the last sentence turned incredibly cold and Leo looked as surprised by it as Jonah felt. He sighed, "I'm sorry. I'm just gonna go finish my essay, alright? We can... I don't know, talk later."
Jonah frowned, but didn't say anything, watching as his boyfriend walked out of the kitchen and into the living room area, opening his bag once more. He got his headphones out, then kicked off his sneakers in order to put his feet on the couch, laptop open on his lap and concealing Leo's face from view.
Jonah glared at his concealed form, then back at the biscuit's jar, opening it and grabbing one. He started to nibble on it, figuring it was as good a time as any to text coach Eric to let him know that he'd need to actually show up for his office hours tomorrow.
Coach wasn't as big an issue as Lucas would be, Jonah thought bitterly, sending the text without proof reading and then checking his schedule once more. He was booked for tomorrow's hospital shift, straight after class. It wasn't the best arrangement, but with that flu that was going around they had doctors' and interns dropping like flies, everyone's schedules were messed up.
Wendy wasn't even fully back yet, her own turn with the virus had been pretty brutal from what Vince had mumbled when they met quickly at the hallway.
"Jon..."
"What?" Jonah didn't look up from his phone. He knew it wasn't right to be angry at Leo, but in the other hand... Really? That petty toddler behavior over something that should've been more of an issue for Jonah himself than for Leo?
That was simply childish and unnecessary.
"Fuck," Leo breathed out and Jonah frowned at the uncharacteristic swear, looking up in time to see the blonde snap the laptop closed and turn around on the couch, legs spread out-
"Leo?" Jonah's heart plummeted to his stomach and he jumped up, remaining dizziness be damned, "Leo, what's wrong?"
He was by his side in less than a second, skipping to the couch, and just in time for Leo to shake his head, shoving Jonah off when he attempted to touch him and rush up.
He all but ran off to the closest bathroom, the guest one, slamming the door closed. Through it, Jonah could hear his violent gagging. Jon grimaced at the prospect, but his worry overrode the nausea that was already starting to pool in his stomach.
He could get sick after he made sure Leo was okay.
"Leo?" Jonah knocked on the closed door, "I'm coming in-"
"N-no," Leo's voice was a broken mess, thick with tears, "just- Just leave me alone!"
That made Jonah feel twice as sick as before. He leaned forward, forehead to the door, "baby, I don't care about the puke, just let-"
"Go away, Jonah!" he shouted, only for a painful gasp to follow and cause Jon to ignore his order.
"No, fuck you," he scoffed, opening the door and bracing for the worst. Much to his surprise, Leo wasn't vomiting. He was hunched over the toilet and gagging, yes, but there was no puke and no smell of it.
More importantly, he was sobbing.
"What the fuck, Leo?" Jonah whispered, crouching down next to him and cupping his forehead, expecting to feel a fever, "did you get the bug-"
He was interrupted by another wheezy breath, sucked in with difficulty and followed by a gag. Leo clutched at his chest, hands shaking and Jonah noticed he wasn't warm at all. If anything he felt cold to the touch, trembling all over.
"Leo?"
"I don't- Please, jus'just leave..." he slurred, pressing his eyes closed, "I just need a minute..."
"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what is this!" Jonah snapped, his temper quickly flaring up, patience running thin with playing sickness charades, "are you nauseous? Why are you crying, is this a migraine?"
Leo's eyes were even bluer thanks to the fact his corneas were bloodshot from crying. He glared at Jonah, forcing out a breath, "it's just- Shit, shut up, Jon."
Jonah's mouth snapped closed, but still he didn't pull back. He had meant it, he wasn't going anywhere. The annoyance he felt being snapped at didn't even compare to his worry.
They waited, for what felt like an eternity, but Jonah knew had been just about ten minutes, until Leo could sit up straight. He leaned his head back, wiping the tears off his face with the back of his sweater and causing Jonah to cringe, but still the other man didn't say anything.
"Are y-"
"It was just a panic attack, I'm fine," Leo's voice wavered, but the emotion in it was clear. Frustration, "I'm fine, you can go."
I'm not going anywhere, was what Jonah wanted to say, but instead what came out was, "this is my fucking bathroom, you can't kick me out."
Leo scoffed, sniffling again, "yeah, okay, I'll go then-"
"You're not going anywhere either," Jonah stood up in a jump, blocking the door, feeling momentarily woozy. He grabbed the sink, noticed Leo's eyes latching to his hand squeezing the marble, "you're going to tell me what the fuck happ-"
"You're going to break up with me," Leo's voice wavered and Jonah's mouth dropped in a comical O, too shocked to be able to retort, "and I just- I don't think I can... I can't."
"Can't- Leo, what. the fuck. are you talking about?!" Jonah cried out, "you sound insane, you've been acting like a maniac ever since I got sick, I just- What the hell is happening!?"
"You're going to quit the team!" Leo yelled back at him, rubbing a hand uneasily over his chest, "and you don't even like hanging out with me, you like- You like fancy museums and art galleries and- and Wendy-"
"Not again with the Wendy jealousy fit, Leo-"
"It's not about her, it's about you! You don't like hanging out with us," Leo glared at him, shoving a finger on Jonah's chest, "right? You don't bother hiding it, I might be the exception that proves the rule right, but that's bound to change."
Jonah wasn't following. Whatever Leo's overly stimulated brain was doing, was too much mental gymnastics to compete, "Leo, I'm not- I'm not understanding..."
"You're- The only reason you hang out with us is because you're on the team and now you're quitting it and I won't see you anymore and- And then we're never gonna see each other and you'll just meet some other doctor, who doesn't- Who's not a mess like I am and who can tell the difference between a dry and a sweet wine and..."
"Leo..." Jonah sighed, "baby, you can't honestly believe this-"
"And it's not just you," Leo's voice caught up, turned all strangled, "I graduate at the end of the year and I just thought- I thought I had more time... I'm not- I'm not ready-"
"Leo," Jonah stepped closer, yanking at his shirt and stopping him from talking, pressing his forehead to his, "Leo, breathe."
Leo's bottom lip quivered and he sucked in another difficult breath, clearly struggling not to burst into tears all over again.
"Listen to yourself, baby," Jonah sighed, cupping his face and stopping him from pulling back, "If I quit the team I'll have more free time for us, not the opposite way around..."
"No, you won't, because I'll still be practicing-"
"Yeah and I'll do my classwork during practices, so we can hang out in the hours I'd usually be doing that," Jonah stroked his cheek without thinking, feeling the start of a beard prickle his fingers, "and even if I wasn't, I am not going to break up with you. Yeah, I like art galleries and museums and you like to get drunk with the guys and hockey, but believe it or not we're not the first couple to have different tastes."
Leo let out a scoff, "Jonah, you're not taking me seriou-"
"I am," Jonah interrupted, glaring at him, "I am taking you seriously, I am listening to you. We aren't going to break up because I'm out of the team, Leo. I mean, I love you, this has to count for something... Right?"
The blonde shrugged, glancing down, "I love you too... I love this- This life we have, Jon, I'm not ready for it to be over..."
"Leo," Jon sighed, pulling back so he could look at him squarely, "everything is going to change, but this doesn't have to, you have to know that. You, me... Even the guys, I mean, God knows I've been trying to get rid of Lucas for years now and he won't let go," Jonah smiled as he saw a twinkle in Leo's eyes. A hopeful one, "this doesn't have to be over, it'll just be different."
"Can you promise that?" Leo sighed, nodding and crumpling against him, causing Jonah to let out a huff, pulling into a tight hug, that felt way more intimate then sex or kissing.
For the ask game, what about edging, dollification, collars with Albedo, Diluc, and Heizou?
warnings nsfw
hmm, edging and collars work for basically anyone, lets start with dollification. i'm leaving albedo out of this bc it feels both the most obvious and also bc he has his unhealthy hang ups on being an artificial creation which i wouldn't want to touch. now, both diluc and heizou would be fun, but in completely different ways.
like, if u told heizou "hey baby, today you'll be my pretty little doll," he'd be SO excited. he's into roleplay in general, loves feeling helpless and completely in your power, loves being manhandled and things being done to him, would adore to be dressed up and pampered and showed off as your pretty treasure. the problem is that he can't keep still for longer than 5 minutes or his hyperactive ass will die. so it wouldn't be so much dollification, as "enthusiastic heizou vibrating at high velocities for few minutes, trying to not move before breaking into giggles, whimpers and writhing." like he'd still be fun, just not very on theme.
now, diluc tho, that'd be a complicated case, i'm almost tempted to actually write it out. is he straightforwardly into this at first? no, but diluc is so repressed, he doesn't know shit about what he wants until it punches him in the face. he'll be open to try bc you asked, but dismissive like he doesn't even see the point. though passivity will be secretly appealing to him bc he's awkward and always anxious about doing something wrong or being too wooden and weird, so the fact that there's basically nothing for him to fuck is comforting. he'll see this as a challenge, bc diluc sees everything as a challenge, but it has clearly defined rules and expectation by which he can judge his performance, so that works well for him.
the thing is that diluc is already on several layers of dissociation, he sees his body as this kind of meat puppet, a tool to do things with, sometimes useful, sometimes inconvenient. so forcing him to ground himself in the sensations, in his body by focusing on it, being hyper-aware of positioning and movements might be very good for him, while also providing him safe space to realize he enjoys things without the psychological struggle to allow himself it first, bc it's not his decision, it's you playing with him as with literal doll.
so like, dressing him up in a pretty dress, positioning him carefully in front of the mirror, so he has to see himself, scars and all, being treated like a fragile and precious thing. leaving him for some pauses so he has to stew in this view, going back to make adjustments, touch him almost casually, nonchalantly, pretending not to notice that he's getting riled up, bright blush, cock getting harder. moving him to more and more provocative positions, until he's half undone, playing gently with his hair, while the sweet shame and desire and softness melt through his barriers, until it turns from a challenge to maintain stillness to actually relaxing and letting go of control, so when you fuck him, he's pliant, tension finally gone, trusting and open with his body.
collars - heizou would be into it, but i've already wrtten a fic with leashplay for him, and the social aspects of collars are kinda lost with him, bc like. he's just like THAT anyway. he's already wearing a choker, shirt with the sides cut off, his gloves are a combo of red ties and fishnet. he can show up to work wearing bedazzled "Master's little cumslut <3" collar and no one would blink an eye, except kujou sara who'd yell at him for dishonoring the tenryuo commission and he'd be like show me where in the regulations it says i can't be a cumslut, no i dont care about the spirit of the law, show me the exact paragraphs. so like it'd be fun, but i feel like it also derails the prompt lmao
albedo tho is that kind of introverted clingy where he won't be actively pestering you for attention, but he will drop anything if you ask him to spend time with you for as long as possible, and will be unashamedly open about it. he's also pretty direct about showing preferences to ppl he likes in public and in companies, as we've seen in few events now. so i think he'd actually be into collars unironically, as the symbol of belonging and being connected even when not together, an open unspoken secret that he's yours. he'd have very tasteful narrow leather collar, dyed darkest blue to match the darks of his outfit, with the golden ring in the center framing the gold diamond mark on his throat. like, it passes quite easily for fashion accessory for most ppl, for these in the know its like - is this ring for what i think it is??? or is this his artistic shit to accent the skin mark?? and like since albedo can be quite a mischievous smug troll, he can catch the confusion and press on it with absolute poker face, until the person is embarrassed that they were even assuming it, and then he'd drop a banger of double entendre that suggests, but doesn't confirm anything, again with innocent poker face. albedo would have a lot of fun with it
but also, the imagery of his "imperfection" framed, left open, just for you. the clasp of the leash, when closed, touching the gold diamond. silent acknowledgment of his nature and acceptance of it, the triple secret meaning of vulnerability under the already existing layer of suggestiveness. him sitting at your feet, surrounded by papers and drawings for his research, working as usual, but content to be close, glowing softly when he feels your fingers gently run through his hair from time to time, reaching up both eagerly and obediently when you tug up his leash. much to play with a little prince.
edging - heizou is so fun to tease <3 put him into your lap, hold him close, take your time. he's sensitive, responsive, eager, he'll squirm, whine, whimper, beg shamelessly, tease, cling to you, try to catch your hands if you don't tie him up, but get back to behaving if you scold him, pout, writhe helplessly, arc, moan, never shutting up for a second, regressing into some incoherent sweet and horny nonsense in the end. mwah best kitten.
the world seems to fade in and out, blood rushing through their ears drowning out the voices around them. it hurts- is all whumpee can think, the pain is setting their body alight and sending stars to dance before their eyes. they’re confused and scared, the world too big and loud for their semi conscious brain to comprehend.
but then, arms are wrapping around their fragile body, settling the shakes that ravage their frame. they panic at first, weakly fighting against whatever new torture this is; but then they hear it, the soft lull of caretaker’s voice. a hand cards through their hair and the rumble of caretakers chest is welcoming as they press against it.
the world is slipping through their fingers now, and whumpee lets their consciousness fade away as they weakly grip onto the back of caretaker’s shirt.
the hot lights making his fever worse, everything sort of swimming for a combo of his temp and the migraine, and then the sound of his in-ears only makes the headache worse. maybe he's dreading the moment the drums kick in for each song, or maybe the cheering of the crowd. by the end of the show he's swaying on his feet, gripping the mic stand to stay upright. and the whole time he's having to force a smile and give a good performance
