sth oneshots

hhh 💕💥

[20.07.2024 → 22:20p.m.]

•••

"Let's just go to the bedroom and relax—"

Everything was so loud. Something in his abdomen stirred uncomfortably, his mind was exploding with sounds as everything became sore and ached, his body filled with things he didn't want.

He couldn't bear to hear Sonic talking. He didn't know why he was in such a shit mood. He didn't want this either. But something in his brain urged him to argue back.

Shadow's eye twitched, "Stop fucking talking!"

Sonic fell silent. He huffed, crossing his arms as he glared at Shadow.

Shadow shoved Sonic aside, before storming upstairs.

Sonic looked at Shadow.

Anytime soon.

He heard a loud, not so shocking, bang of a door slamming shut. He walked towards the kitchen and sighed, grabbing a cup of chilled milk from the fridge and setting it on the table. He kicked the fridge door shut gently, and reached for some simple boxed pasta.

Shadow groaned, squeezing his abdomen with his arms as he winced, the pain pulsing and pulling and stinging. He choked, but didn't cry, shuffling uncomfortably in the sheets.

What was going on?

He hissed, his core aching as he struggled to not move. His breath hitched. He couldn't really breathe, sweat was pouring off of him and the new silk sheets pooled around his body. He shuffled and moved and kicked, but it didn't go away. Not even for one second. He groaned, upset and irritated.

Why was this happening to him?

He had been in a bad mood for about the entire week, besides for that one day where the sun shone upon his crystal. Everything started to hurt starting three days ago, his muscles sore as if torn, his stomach aching, as if it was twisting and turning in his abdomen. He couldn't endure this.

This was hell.

But he had to. He knew that if he just pushed through, he'll be just fine. He'll live. Maybe not so happily for a few days, but he can move on.

Then he heard a creak from the door.

There was silence.

Sonic didn't bother to speak.

"What do you want," Shadow muttered coolly, stopping the shuffling and wincing, trying to maintain the control he had over how Sonic saw him. He couldn't let Sonic see that tiny bit of weakness.

He didn't know why, but he was so ... stressed. Agitated. And so protective of himself. What kind of instinct was that anyway?

Sonic padded quietly towards the end of the room, but Shadow was too busy holding in his squeaks of pain and squeezing his eyes shut to notice. Sonic placed something out of Shadow's sight.

Shadow was annoyed that Sonic didn't answer his question.

"What do you want."

"Shh," Sonic hushed, "I need to do something."

Shadow groaned, "So you can't answer my fucking question?!"

"It's better not to. Anything could hurt you."

Hurt?

Hurt?

This motherfucker is asking to be hurt.

Shadow muttered a string of curses and insults as he curled up again, the pain suddenly shooting up, as if he'd been shot in the abdomen.

He bit his lower lip, trying to act like the pain was just a tiny rock on the road. He needed to scream, to whine, to beg for it to stop, but Sonic was in the range. He could hear. So Shadow only bit his lip until it bled. It was better (to Shadow) like that.