#High fevers and cold compresses | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moechies · 13 days

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sugu breaking your fever 〜（ゝ。∂）

“how d’ya feel pretty?”

“still feel like shit.”

you whine into his chest, the warm compress that once laid on your tummy is held in place by the man.

“y’know.. i heard that orgasms break fevers.”

“what? can’t be, s-stop it.”

“mm what’s the harm in trying?”

“c-cus i’m sick sugu! don’t wanna get you sick too. s-s okay, i’ll get better so—“ your quieted by a cough, followed by the man pressing the glass of water towards your lips.

“doesn’t seem likely pretty. c’mon, let me finger you at least, hm?”

“y-you’re so weird, sugu.”

“that means yes, right?” he slithers atop of you, looking down with a sly grin that you can’t help but flush at. he presses kisses to your hot skin, whining when he nips at your sensitive neck.

“s-sugu, ‘s hot.”

“hmm.. air conditionings on gorgeous..” he teases.

he lifts your shirt, releasing your tits, giving them a light grope. you whine at the sensation of his cold hand pressing against your hot flesh, a slight buck in your hips that yearns for more.

“don’t rush, pretty. we have all day.”

he leans in between your thighs, slim fingers that come to toy with the band of your panties. he presses a harsh kiss to your sticky clit, twitching from the attention.

“needy girl.” he snickers, whistling when he pulls the crotch of your panties to the side. he watches your feverent cunt pulse with need, cute clit swollen and aching for more.

“s-sugu, stop staring.!”

in a short attempt to close your thighs, to prove some decency to the perverted man, you’re met with a gentle slap to your inner thigh. you mewl, anticipating more as he drags a gentle finger through your slit.

“mm, say you want it. tell me ya want my fingers inside, honey.”

“s-sugu don’t tease please.. y-you were the one that said you wanted to give it t’me..”

“mhm, know what i said. now tell me, you want it right?”

you huff, but at last you fall into the man’s trap, “yes s-suguru, wan’ it. want you inside, y-your fingers, please.”

“mm, good girl.” he hums against your thigh, a singular digit slipping into your moist cunt.

“s-sugu..!” you moan with surprise.

“see? if you’re good, ya get what you want, right?”

“y-yes..!”

“now take it gorgeous.” he slips another finger along side his first, curling himself against your sweet gummy walls. you flinch at the sensation, every moment he’s inside of you pushes you towards your high.

he comes up to face your ecstatic expression, smothering your hot skin with gentle but sloppy kisses. you flinch at the sensation, body sensitive due to your cold. it’s all so intense, better, even.

“suguru, p-please..!”

“mhm, patient sweet girl.”

“need t’cum, pleasepleaseplease.. daddy..”

“oh? how dirty, baby. thought you were feeling sick. y’asking for more now?” he chuckles.

“mfgh, d-daddy please.. gonna cum..!”

“yeah? want daddy t’make you cum?”

“yesyes, please..!”

and you do, back arching from the intense sensation, your boyfriends fingers covered in a heavy slick; a sight he’s definitely not new to.

“there you go baby. good girl, such a good girl.”

he pulls himself out gently, wrapping his lips around his own digits, sucking your cum off his fingers. the entire time he stares into you, a teasing smirk spread across his expression.

“stop doin’ that sugu.! ‘s gross!” you whine, flustered from the eye contact he forcefully holds.

“taste so sweet baby.” he teases once again.

he unlatches himself with a ‘pop!’ bending over you to press a heavy kiss onto your lips. he can’t help but laugh when you moan into his mouth, overwhelmed.

“sugu.. tired..”

he presses another kiss onto the soft of your cheek, leaving your side to clean you up for bed.

upon cleaning you up, his heart softens at your sleepy expression and soft snores, pressing a final kiss onto your forehead before slipping besides you.

bonus . . ♡

the morning after is so much better. the sunlight beams through the curtains , the blankets laid on top of you two is just warm enough. doubt him all you want , but turns out his dumb little factoid proves to be true !

but of course he didn’t listen , and now he’s caught your cold.. whining and tugging at your sleeve for you to take care of him , to ride his pain away and make him orgasm so that his fever breaks too.

“y’have to return the favor princess.”

“no, you perv!”

“please, you owe me baby.”

#jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #suguru x you #geto suguru smut #suguru smut #getou suguru #getou x reader #jjk getou #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto x you #jjk geto

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ghouljams · 3 months

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Hi! Shy anon sharing brain rot once again. As always is about The Ghost Distribution System™, because that’s 100% how he’d act and i can’t stop thinking about it.

Anyway, i’ve been specifically thinking about Ghost catching the flu. Gets all of the basic but annoying ass symptoms. Runny nose, sore throat, the not-too-high-but-definitely-debilitating fever, the shivers and body aches.

And despite feeling like death, he’s still coming over to fix that leaky sink you complained about. (Because he’s been through worst and it’s not like he really takes that much care of himself, your needs go first anyway.)

So, you let him in, thank him again for offering to do it himself and saving you a couple hundred in a handyman that would take way longer to do what he insists it’s a simple task. But when he keeps on coughing and needs to stop every few seconds to wipe his nose cause it’s stuffy you definitely notice something is wrong.

And as much as he refuses and insists that he is fine and doesn’t need you to fuss over him (you already do so much for him, show him so much kindness and care. How could he dare ask for more?) you end up feeling his skin and noticing he definitely has a fever.

So now he is laying on your couch, soft fluffy blanket around him (that absolutely smells like you and it’s making his mind even more fuzzy), cold compress on his forehead and a random movie quietly playing on the background as you make him a snack (to help him recover some strength and get some fluids you said).

And while he’s laying there all he’s thinking about though his foggy mind is how he’s going to repay you for this, all the things he can do for you so you keep letting him in every time he comes back.

You're such a saint, you don't want to put Ghost on your couch, not after everything he's done for you. He kicks up a silent fuss when you offer your bed for a nap, his fingers flexing and balling into tight fists. Again you offer a piece of your sanctuary, a place belonging only to you, as if it's nothing. He's sick in more ways than one. Filthy with his desire for you. He argues with you, with his god. Benevolent as you may be, every prophet has challenges placed in the path of his devotion. The devil tempted Jesus with all manners of the flesh, so why wouldn't he tempt Ghost?

Your concern makes you agree. Settling Ghost so gently on your couch that he wonders if even this is too good for him. You disappear long enough for him to wonder against his choice, long enough for him to close his eyes against the fever. You return with pillows and blankets, arranging them and coaxing him to lay down. Your fingers hover around his head, as if laying it on your pillows might be too much of a burden for him. As if he's liable to break if he settles it anywhere but your warm embrace.

You leave him again and Ghost pushes his face against he offered comfort, breathes in your scent greedily and imagines he's laid his head in your lap. You must have brought this comfort from your bed, determined to give him everything he doesn't deserve. It makes his head spin, sick, filthy, he could never repay the goodness you give him. You pull the gently weighted blankets over his shoulders, wipe the sweat from his forehead with a cool cloth, he can't look at you. He can't face the radiant warmth you bestow on him. He's done nothing to deserve it, nothing to warrant this care, nothing that should lead you to coo your gentle praise. It all sticks in his chest worse than any bullet could.

He doesn't deserve it, can't deserve it, you should give your kindness to someone better, to someone who doesn't hoard your care for themselves like he does. It hurts. It hurts and yet the ache is intoxicating. His teeth itch to sink into you, to inflict some of the same pleasure you bring to him. As if he could ever be worthy of such a thing.

"Simon," You hum, melodic, hymnal. He feels his eyes roll with the pleasure of hearing his name before he can open them. You say it so sweetly, like he's never heard it before. His vision swims with fever, but the light halos you and you smile at him. Divinity in your every breath, he could live a lifetime in the moment when your eyes meet his.

"Love," he feels it on his breath, inaudibly whispered, just a part of his lips, a fricative against his teeth. Like any other God receiving prayer you don't hear it. It's better that you don't hear it, the casual affection doesn't fit you right. If there was a bigger word for what he feels, for what you are, he won't find it in this condition.

"Just rest," You bid him, "You can stay here tonight, if you want."

If he wants. As if he could ever want anything else. As if he could turn down an invitation to rest his head in your temple. As if he could ever have the strength to tell you no.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley cod #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost cod #the ghost distribution system #ghost call of duty #Ghost feverish and staring at his darling: you could make a religion out of this

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haunted-moon · 4 months

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Long Way Home [Part X]

[Azriel x Reader fanfic]

Synopsis: Y/n is the daughter of a healer in the city of Velaris. After a small incident, she moves to the House of the Wind to work for the High Lord, Rhysand. Everyone in the house seems to welcome her except Azriel, the second in command. Even though he is just blankly polite and does not acknowledge her much, she can't help but fall for him. Does Azriel return her feelings or remain unfeelingly aloof?

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 1 here. Read Part 7 here.

Read Part 2 here. Read Part 8 here.

Read Part 3 here. Read Part 9 here.

Read Part 4 here.

Read Part 5 here.

Read Part 6 here.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Part X

My father had taught me that most illnesses could be broadly classified into two: diseases that had a tendency to spread, and the diseases that did not.

While treating a patient with a spreadable illness, there was a high risk of the caretaker getting ill. To combat this, we had made some discoveries like: covering the nose and mouth while in contact with the patient, washing hands with soap frequently and general personal hygiene. It didn't make the caretaker infallible, but it did lessen the risk of spreading.

Azriel didn't have a cold or any other illness that spread, so I was pretty safe from that. He had an unusually high temperature paired with aches, dizziness, tiredness, and a minor stomach issue.

Rhys and Cassian winnowed Azriel to my bedroom and I helped them get him under the covers. Father had fetched a couple of bags of his clothing and other supplies which I'd need. They promised to visit frequently and left.

I sat beside him on the bed, tears threatening to spill over again as I took him in. His skin had lost its colour, his wings looked limp and he was murmuring deliriously as we settled him in. Now he looked like he was in some kind of fitful sleep, his arms and torso jerking now and then. I leaned over and kissed his forehead, sending waves of reassurance through the bond. His body instantly relaxed and the jerking stopped.

I let him sleep until I finished making lunch, consisting of steaming vegetable broth which was both light on the stomach and masked the taste of the bitter medicine he had to take. I toasted some bread for myself and took a tray upstairs.

When I gently woke him up to eat, he had trouble staying conscious at first, but when he figured out that it was me, he fought hard to stay awake. I cradled his head against my collarbone and fed him the broth from a small bowl. He hadn't eaten in days, and I didn't want him to throw up the food. I let him lie back down after wiping his mouth with the hem of the shirt I was wearing. Then, I placed a cold compress on his head to ease some of the temperature.

The medicine started working after a few hours. His body started sweating and the temperature reduced to a manageable level. It was just as Cassian had said: it was quickly healable illness, but it had come to this level because he refused any medicine. I gently wiped the sweat away with a damp cloth, then applied a soothing balm to help restore some moisture to his dried skin and lips.

As the sun dipped in the west, the villa's magic lit the candles and sconces for light. Azriel's ever present shadows weren't there, and his beautiful wings looked brittle and fragile in the candlelight.

His temperature rose a bit, though not to the previous unmanageable state. After I made him have another bowl of the medicine spiked broth, I stayed up all night trying to keep him cool with damp cloths and cold compresses. Throughout the night, there were a few times when he seemed to have awoken, but it was just his delirium talking. He was far more relaxed now, and I stayed beside him and held his hand as he mumbled my name.

I was waiting for the fever to break, which might help him return to proper consciousness. I kept a careful watch to make sure it was reducing and there were no sudden spikes in his temperature.

Somewhere in middle, he also had a nightmare, I think. I couldn't get him to wake up, so I held his hand physically and also reached out through the bond.

Finally, the fever broke on the cusp of dawn, just as the morning birds were getting ready to herald a new day. His nightmare also seemed to have eased, and he was now calm. I had the sensation that he had reached out to me through our mating bond, as we were holding each both mentally and physically.

After another round of wiping sweat, I laid down next to him for a quick nap before breakfast. I had to take care of myself too to take care of my sick mate properly.

My body was tired from the all the work, and the nap turned into two hours of sleep. The morning sunlight was spilling through the open French windows when I opened my eyes. Cassian, Rhys, and my father were on the other side of the bed, and Azriel seemed to be awake. He was propped by pillows and talking to my father in low tones.

They stopped talking and turned to me when I sat up and stretched. Azriel looked better now, not like a dead body as I had seen him yesterday. His eyes showed apprehension as he watched me.

I merely stood up and walked to the door. There was a long conversation to be had, but first, Azriel had to get healthy. It could wait until that.

"I'm making breakfast, hope you three will stay for that," I nodded at the others and made my way downstairs.

I made some savoury vegetable oats, buttered toast and put the kettle to boil water for tea. Rhys, Cassian and father made their way down just as I was finishing up. They looked a bit suspicious to me, glancing at each other and then telling me that they'll serve themselves, and I should go just ahead and take a plate to Azriel.

They wanted us to talk and clear it out. Sighing, I carried a tray upstairs.

Azriel was lying back down when those three had left, but he raised his head at my entrance. When he noticed it was me, he started to push himself upright. I moved to help arrange the pillows behind his back so he was comfortable and sat down next to him.

His body was still weak, and his hands trembled, so I fed him the food I had brought.

"How are you feeling?" I asked after a couple of spoons.

Instead of answering the question, he looked me directly in the eyes. "From the first time I saw you, I haven't had a proper night's sleep."

I exhaled audibly, returning the spoon to the bowl and waiting for him to go on.

"You were alone and nervous during Rhys's treatment without your father present. But still, you never showed it on your face and saved him. And when you shifted to the House, you were a ray of sunshine that brought a smile to everyone's face."

I looked away from his intense gaze. "Never on your face, though."

"You've made me smile and laugh so many times that I've lost count."

I wasn't buying it, and raised an eyebrow at him. "Really? And somehow I happened to not see even one of those alleged smiles?"

He replied to this statement with a goddamn smile.

I wasn't amused. I wanted to smash the bowl I was holding into his face.

I reined in my rising anger. Maybe I wasn't ready for this conversation yet. I needed more time to sort out my thoughts.

I shoved another spoonful of oats into his mouth before he could say another word. Placing the bowl back on the tray, I pushed it onto his lap and stood up. He could eat on his own.

"Finish eating and take rest," I started towards the door.

"Y/n, please, wait. Listen to me—"

I whirled on him so fast that he instantly stopped. "Say another word and I'll poison your next meal and shove it down your throat. You can't just ignore me for months, giving uninterested replies to my attempts at conversation, then reject me when we found out that we were mates. As if that wasn't enough, you have the fucking audacity to FALL SICK AND HAVE ME TAKE CARE OF YOU! JUST FUCKING SHUT UP AND LET ME BE!"

I banged the door shut behind me and stomped down the stairs, breathing heavily from my outburst.

Rhys, Cassian and my father were at the base of the stairs, trying to eavesdrop on our conversation, I guess. They scattered like mice when they saw my murderous expression. Rhys started wiping down the table, Cassian was furiously scrubbing at the dishes and father was straightening things up.

I was amused at Rhys and Cassian. Never thought the High Lord and his commander would be doing a domestic chore in my house out of fear.

Fetching a bowl from a cabinet, I scooped some food in it and sat down at the table after Rhys was done. I set the bowl down hard enough to make the table rattle. The anger was still present. They all started inching towards the front door.

"You're welcome to my house anytime," I said in a low, controlled voice, making them stand still. "But the next time you even attempt to patch things up between me and Azriel, I'll poison your food and turn your dead bodies into compost for my fruit orchard. And that includes you, father."

They all nodded wordlessly and tripped over each other trying to hurry outside.

Well.

Good thing to know that my anger rattled even the best of the High Lords in Prythian.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Tags:

@kalulakunundrum @thelov3lybookworm @hnyclover @impossibelle @sourapplex @brujitafantomatico @venuseuripedis @darling006 @fightmedraco @lees-chaotic-brain @thesunloveschips

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

Read Part 11 here.

This fanfic can also be found in Wattpad, along with other exclusive parts like playlists and pictures. Here's the link: https://www.wattpad.com/story/358573037-long-way-home

Happy reading! <3

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

[Thank you for your patience as I know I was late in uploading these parts. I love you all very much <3]

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beanghostprincess · 4 months

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In love with the idea of Shanks knowing he has a thing for Buggy pretty much since the start but Buggy only realizing that he’s in love during his fever when everyone leaves for laugh tale without them. They have shared their dreams and hopes for the future and probably fricken kissed before that, but his dumb teen brain has refused to make the connection until he was so sick he couldn’t focus on the wooden ceiling for too long without the pattern starting to move in swirls. But Shanks is there. Shanks. His best friend. Everything is spinning. Please be wants to go too captain. Shanks. God he’s going to hurl. A cold compress on his forehead. He loves him so much. What? He does? That’s a thought he can muse over later when he stops seeing spots in the corner of his eyes. No! Don’t go. No come back! He just realized he- “Let me go, I’m just getting more water.” Ah. Good. Loves him so much…

Years later and after many bitter moments Shanks is gonna reminisce about this “You know, I fell for you first, but you confessed to me first.” “The fuck are you talking about? You literally told me you always had feelings for me only a month ago. I kept that shit under a tight lock for ages.” “Not what you said when you were having a fever so high I could have fried eggs on your face?” * high pitched clown squeal* “I SAID THAT OUT LOUD?!?”

Once again asking a Shuggy ask if I can turn this into a fanfic. I was keeping this in my inbox for a long time because I wanted to be funny and write the fic and just respond the thing with it, but 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 It's your idea, anon, gotta be respectful here. So, uh, begging:

Pleasepleaseplease let me write this let me turn this into a one-shot pleaseplease I know I can make this angsty and romantic and hurt/comfort and and and please I'm starving here I wrote a shuggy fic yesterday and I want more pleasepleaseplease

#also the fic from yesterday is uhhh extremely sad and now i need fluff #if you prefer to write the fic yourself btw it's perfectly fine !!!!!!!!! BUT you're legally obligated to send it to me bc i want to read i #i love this plot i love sickfics i have so many ideas #one piece #shuggy

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bowandcurtsey · 1 year

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When y/n is unwell (haikyuu)

Been watching the Haikyuu Anime again because I've been back to playing leisure volley. hehe. Also it's the le kuroo hubby's birthday in a week's time! yay!

Kuroo | Tsukishima | Akaashi | Atsumu x f! reader

Post timeskip

Kuroo Tetsuro

Suddenly becomes the househusband and does everything in the house. Well he's not superb at everything but he makes sure that everything still runs smoothly. or Kinda.

There is a possibility that he'll use the wrong bowl for the cat. Or he may mistake the softener as detergent.. But it wouldn't be anything major.

He'll make sure you're tucked in nice and snug and if you're cold he'll put on them night socks for you. If your temperature gets too high he'll grab a towel and do a cold compression for you.

He gets kinda worried actually seeing how fragile and unwell you are. And when you start muttering nonsense like "am I going to die.." He'll shush you and give you extra kisses on your forehead.

he'll pat you to sleep before he carries on doing other things. Yes he'll slack off a little and watch some volleyball vids on youtube or social media.

He'll buy you some soupy meal because god bless, this man can not cook that well. He'll feed you of course, very gently and blowing at your food before putting it to your mouth because you're his queen.

Well, when you're finally feeling slightly better and you find the strength to get out of bed, you creep out to your living room to find your hubby napping on the couch with the animals. awww.

Tsukishima Kei

He doesn't really know what to do actually. You seldom fall sick and are usually independent so it's really a rare sight for him to see you vulnerable like this.

He even took a day's leave from divisional training just to take care of you.

"Am I dying?"

"Well at least you have the strength to make dumb jokes like that." your husband is as savage as ever.

He disappears for awhile and then he'll come over with some warm water and some asprin. He'll help you get up to take your meds before tucking you in again.

You'll wake up and find those cooling patch pasted on your forehead and water right beside your bed. He came in to take your temperature.

"Good. Your fever went down. Are you feeling better?"

Whether you said yes or no, he'll bring you to see the doctors, to be safe. He was actually really worried about you, while you were sleeping, he constantly came in to check on you, stroked your hair and pressed a kiss to your cheek.

And when you were feeling much better, he would definitely tease you about it.

"Maybe you should fall sick once in awhile, you're more sweeter and less naggy."

Of course you knew he was kidding.

Akaashi Keiji

Your Akaashi was Mr perfect husband. He knew exactly how to take care of you. He would totally apply to work from home and take care of all your needs.

From cooking some hot soup or porridge, to making sure you were properly tucked in, Akaashi took care of you well.

He made sure you always had warm water to drink and he gave you a water bottle with a straw so you could drink without using much effort.

He constantly changed your cooling patch on your forehead and sponged your body with a cold towel to keep your temperature down.

Bokuto was banned from coming over because he was "too noisy and would disturb your rest"

When you took your meds, he would bring in some gummy so that the meds weren't too bitter for you.

He would also make you something yummy and healthy at the same time, like a berry smoothie so that not all your food were too bland. He would let you cheat a little and eat some ice cream too, because a happy mindset keeps the body healthy as well.

Would keep you in his sight 24/7, works in the same room as you with a mask on and a tiny lamp turned on while you were resting.

You should also take this time to ask your husband for anything you want, he'll probably agree because you looked so vulnerable and sad, he'll do anything to make you feel better.

Miya Atsumu

Actually, He's probably sick together with you. But hey in the case that he isn't, he's panicking.

He calls everyone. Osamu, his mom, Sakusa... Even Bokuto and Hinata. Well, initially you had doubts when he called Bokuto but he was the only one that suggested ice cream so you were glad he did.

Well he runs out to the supermarket after leaving an ice pack over your head.

He comes home with BAGS of stuff. Different types of medicine, more ice packs, all kinds of healthy food- fruits and vegetables, and yes, ice cream.

He feeds you some medicine and pastes the cooling patch on your body as well.

He then proceeds to make a lot of noise in the kitchen and tries to make you some fruit salad or some sorts and some miso soup or something that has chunks of fish and chicken inside.

When your fever does not go down by the end of the day, your husband calls 911. Yeap. He tells the person that it's an emergency..

You had to drag you sick ass to your husband and grab the phone telling the person over the phone that you're okay and that your husband is just a little panicky.

You end up telling him to just bring you to see a doctor.

"Oh yeah baby! why didn't I think of the doctor!"

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leviathans-watching · 2 years

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hello! if the requests are open, as the obey me brothers (+diavolo if you can) reacted to mc start to get terribly sick (always coughing, high fever, always in bed, doesn't eat etc) kisses from Kisses from Brazil 🇧🇷❤️

sick mc with lucifer, diavolo, and satan

includes: lucifer diavolo, and satan x/& gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: 1.8k | rated g | m.list

a/n: sorry this took so long but ty for requesting! i hope you enjoy!! my inbox is open to chat, leave feedback, and request so come say hello!! and kisses from the US <33

warnings: depictions of illness, fevers, and colds, mentions of vomiting, taking medicine, coughing, sneezing, etc. if you're squeamish about sickness/sick fics then this is not for you lol

please reblog <333

lucifer was aware you weren’t feeling too hot, but he figured it’d pass with a little more sleep and promptly turned his mind to other things. he kept an eye on you, of course, but you were insisting everything was fine, and, well, he had work to do.

it isn’t until you don’t come down to dinner that he realizes that that may have been a mistake.

“mc?” he calls knocking on your door. no response. “i’m coming in.”

your room is dark, the curtains drawn, and its warmer than the draftier halls are. stepping forward, he looks around. you’re under a big nest of blankets, but sweat shines on your skin.

hastening forward, lucifer strips off his glove, pressing it to your forehead, you’re burning up.

“mc,” he tries again, “wake up.”

your eyelashes flutter a little but other than that he receives no response. lucifer curses, working on getting you out from the tangle of covers. your clothes are damp from sweat and your skin is a worrying color.

picking you up, lucifer carries you to his room, where it’s cooler. he changes you out of your old clothes, putting one of his shirts on you, then sets you into his bed, smoothing your hair back. you still don’t move, or make any indication that you understand anything that’s going on around you.

he hopes it’s just exhaustion. your fever isn’t nearly bad enough to knock you out, and to be fair, he hasn’t seriously tried to wake you up in any extreme way.

quickly making his way to the kitchen, lucifer speeds through gathering everything he needs. a cold compress of asmo’s from the fridge, one of beel’s sports drinks, and a handful of other provisions is what he ends up with, and he wastes no time getting back to your side to set you up with them. once he’s got the cold compress on your forehead and has put everything else on his bedside table, lucifer grabs a real thermometer from the bathroom, one from the human world he was glad he’d had levi order earlier on in your stay.

like he had thought, you weren’t dangerously warm, and all of your other vitals seemed okay. his theory of exhaustion was seeming more and more reasonable, especially when he considers how hard you’ve been working.

there's nothing he can do now besides monitor you and make sure you’re okay, so lucifer pulls his armchair up closer to the bed and settles in. he thinks maybe he’ll be able to get some reading or work done but quickly realizes it’s hard for him to take his eyes off of you.

he’s never seen you this sick before. sure, you’ve had the occasional stomach bug or cough, but it’s never been bad enough to take you out like this. he hopes the flu is all it is. he doesn’t know what he’d do if your fever gets worse or you don't wake up in the next few hours. call solomon and simeon for sure, but aside from that?

he has no clue.

it’s evening when you finally stir, opening your eyes with a small groan. lucifer instantly raises the sports drink to your lips, gently encouraging you to take a few small sips before you speak.

“i feel awful,” you finally say, smacking your lips.

“i’ll bet,” lucifer replies, leaning over to fluff a pillow. “you’ve got a fever and have been asleep for a while.”

“oh.” you sit there for a moment, contemplating. “how’d i get to your room?”

“i carried you.” even though you’re awake and coherent, lucifer still feels off-kilter and worried. “you were sweating to death in your room and the sheets were all gross so i figured this might be better.”

“that explains the shirt, i guess” you say, looking down at your attire. “thanks for doing all of this. i haven’t been feeling great, but i didn’t think it was this bad.”

“of course darling,” lucifer says. “now, are you hungry? you should try to drink and eat some more then go back to sleep.

diavolo steps out into the hall, pulling his robe tight around himself. it was rare for him to wake in th middle of the night and he hopes a drink of water will help him fall back asleep.

planning on just drinking from the bathroom faucet, diavolo’s surprised to see the light in there already on, peeking out from the crack in between the door and the floor. you were spending the night, but what were the odds you were both up at the same time?

after waiting a bit and not hearing the toilet flush or anything, diavolo decided to knock.

“you can come in,” you call, and diavolo thinks your voice sounds kind of weird.

pushing the door open, he’s surprised to see you on the ground, leaning up against the wall of the bathtub.

“are you alright?” he asks, crouching down to get a better look at you. your cheeks are flushed and your eyes are glassy and he’s starting to get seriously concerned.

you wave your hand. “i’ve been better. i think i ate something i shouldn't have,” you explain wryly. “my stomach hasn;t been happy.”

“you mean you’ve thrown up?”

you nod. “yeah, and then i tried to drink some water but that came right back up too.”

“why didn’t you come get me?” diavolo asks, and you laugh.

“and wake you up? no way.”

diavolo frowns. “you should have. i wouldn’t have minded, i promise. you can wake me up for anything, anytime.” you don’t look convinced but he resolves to put the matter aside for the moment, moving onto more pressing matters. “i think i have some stomach medicine, if you want it?”

you nod. “thank you, i’d appreciate that. since there’s nothing left in my stomach, i haven’t thrown up any more, but since i definitely need to drink some more water i think it’ll help.”

diavolo stands. “i’ll be back in a moment,” he promises, hurrying to his room. even though he knows you’re not actively sick, he still feels this sense of urgency, this need to get back to you as soon as possible.

bottle in hand, he finds you in the same position as before, but now your head is tipped up and you look a little more green. you still manage to give him a weak smile, though it’s clearly strained. sweat beads at the edge of your hairline.

“you don’t look too good,” diavolo notes gently.

“wow,” you say. “you really know how to flatter a person.”

diavolo winces. “i didn’t intend-”

“i know,” you say softly. “i was teasing, but i guess it fell flat.”

“ah.” pursing his lips, diavolo waits for you to swallow a pill, taking the bottle back. “let’s get soem water in you and then if you don’t puke, get you back to bed.”

you look sheepish. “actually, the first time i didn’t quite make it to the bathroom, so my room isn’t exactly a viable option. i’ll clean it up though, i swear. i’m really sorry, by the way.”

“silly human,” diavolo says. “don’t even worry about it. this isn’t the first time these walls have seen a sick person. and anyway, barbatos knows a spell to magic it away.”

“if you’re sure…”

diavolo nods, resolute. “i’m sure. now, water.”

you’re able to drink one glass, and then another, and after about fifteen minutes has gone by, diavolo feels confident in getting you out of the bathroom.

“we have more guest rooms, obviously, but my room is always open to you as well,” he offers, and you look at him sharply.

“um, is there one you’d prefer?”

“actually-” and now it’s diavolo’s turn to feel sheepish “-i’d rather be able to keep my eye on you, if you’re comfortable with that. i also keep a wastebasket right by my bed which may come in handy.”

“alright then,” you agree, “thank you. and thank you for taking care of me.”

“of course.” offering you a hand, diavolo helps you up. “next time you get sick, let me know and i’ll be there right away.”

satan raises his eyes from his textbook as you sniffle for the nth time since he’d sat down to his study session with you. you don’t even seem to be aware that you’re doing it, but the noise is grating, and, satan’ll admit, a little concerning.

noticing his stare, you look up from your own work, raising an eyebrow. “what?’ you ask, and you’re voice is a little scratchy.

“are you well?” satan asks without preamble. “i believe you’re coming down with something.”

“no? i’m fine,” you say, but the words are broken with a fit of coughing.

“oh, really?” satan asks, unimpressed. “that didn’t exactly sound ‘fine’ to me.”

you scowl. “it’s probably just a cold. and anyways,” you continue with a little sigh, “i don’t have time to be sick, not with exams right around the corner.”

it’s a noble through, but satan knows that’s not how it works.

“i think we should call it a night,” satan says, bookmarking his page and shutting his book. “you obviously are sick and i can’t concentrate with all of your coughing and sneezing.”

“awww, so you do care.” the words are sarcastic, almost caustic, and the tone takes satan by surprise. the venom seems to take you by surprise as well, as you lean back, rubbing your eyes. “i’m sorry. that wasn’t kind of me. i’m just tired.”

“and sick,” satan adds, and you roll your eyes.

“i’m not that sick,” you argue but another bout of coughs cuts you off. “fine,” you say after a moment, “maybe we should stop for the night.”

the two of you pack up quickly, making your way out of the library within minutes. noticing your shiver, satan wraps his scarf around you, tucking the ends in. you smile then, and he feels a little bit better. upon getting back to the house of lamentation, he instructs you to go to bed then promptly does the same.

satan wakses with a start, catching the end of a knock on his door. “come in,” he calls tiredly, sitting up. he’s only a little bit surprised to see you on the other side; no one else had reason to call upon him.

“satan,” you say, and he sits up even straighter. you sound absolutely awful. “i think i’m sick.”

“you think?” satan stands hurriedly, pressing his hand to your cheek. “you’re definitely warm.” underneath his hand you shake and quiver, teeth chattering.

“are you cold?” you ask, and he shakes his head. “drat,” you mutter. “i was hoping it was just freezing in here.”

“let’s sit down.” satan says as you sway a little, pulling you to his bed. “when was the last time you drank some water?”

“i don’t know,” you reply. “probably a while ago. satan,” you say again, “my throat really hurts.” with that, you begin coughing again, much raspier sounding than earlier.

“i’ll bet,” he murmers. “i think i have some of that throat soothing tea. would you like me to make you some?”

“don’t go out of your way.”

satan huffs out a sigh. “it’s only a cup of tea. besides, if we don’t start treating you now, you’re only going to feel that much worse later. let’s go to the kitchen.”

you stand, and he pauses to hand you one of his pullovers. you're not terribly fevered, so it’s fine for you to put on a few more layers.

“thank you,” you say fervently, pulling it over your head. “i feel like my fingers are ice cubes.”

“the tea will help with that too,” he says as he ushers you towards the kitchen. “if you have to cough again please don’t do it on me.”

you smile. “i’ll try. thanks for helping me out.”

“of course,” satan says. “thanks for coming to me so i could help.”

leviathans-watching’s work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

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whumpetywhumpwhump · 11 days

Note

Perhaps some slightly bittersweet whump thoughts?

Whumpee with repressed feelings for Caretaker is very sick, laying under a pile of blankets, a cold compress on their forehead

Caretaker is at their bedside, running their fingers through Whumpee's hair

Whumpee wakes up, they are barely coherent but they smile up at Caretaker

Their fever is still so high and they are still so delirious but they start confessing their feelings to Caretaker

Caretaker is understandably baffled and somewhat touched

Whumpee passes out again, startling Caretaker

They're fine, just exhausted from the illness

Caretaker just resumes comforting them

Naturally, Whumpee remembers nothing when they are fully recovered

Whumpee and Caretaker remain friends

Thoughts?

Enjoy! - 🌻

Ohhhhhh feverish whumpees accidentally revealing too much is a niche genre of whump that I just LOVE.

the way caretaker's heart skips a beat when whumpee confesses, especially if they reciprocate the feelings. is whumpee telling the truth or is this the fever talking? do they really mean any of it or are they just babbling?

#whump #whump prompts #sicknario #sickfic #sickfic whump #prompts #fever whump

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toomuchracket · 7 months

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heyy so I was thinking about sick girlie at one of the shows, she never fails to work and everyone knows how committed is she, but at a show day she ignores all her body signs, avoiding sleep and trying to low her fever. D word matty worried at her because she’s pale and still working along Jamie, causing a bit of fight. Maybe George would try to make her eat something more than an apple and water but not getting more than that, then Adam checking her temperature and Ross just handling his hoodie.

And yes, I’m sick while writing this

oh i hope you feel better soon, sweets! and yeah maybe you wake up one day with a bit of a stuffy nose and you feel warm and a bit more lethargic than usual, but it's a show day and you're busy, so you take a couple of paracetamol and get on with it. although it hits you worse than usual because you're feeling tired as it is, you know yourself that it's just a cold, and you get really quite exasperated that morning by matty's constant hovering around you backstage and frequent utterances of "sweetheart, you've gone a weird colour. i know you keep saying you're fine, but i think you should take it easy"; you DO feel like shit, and it's making you irritable, and in turn you end up snapping at him like "matty, for fuck's SAKE, please just let me get on with my work and fucking LISTEN to me when i tell you i'm alright. but if you're so insistent that i'm not, it's probably best that you leave me alone in case you get ill too", and matty's a stubborn little git so he just snaps back "fine. i fucking tried!" and walks off in a huff. so naturally you both feel worse, but whatever, you'll just get on with it. in fairness to matty, he at least manages to get the boys on-side to keep an eye on you and make sure you're ok - like you said, adam manages to calmly convince you to let him feel your forehead to check your temperature (high) and subsequently to take more paracetamol and drink a lot of cold water, and george ends up in the canteen at the same time as you and tries (mostly unsuccessfully) to coax you into eating something substantial for lunch. after lunch, you're working on your laptop in the green room with ross's wife, and she's like "babe i can hear your teeth chattering" - she makes ross, who's playing with baby eilidh on the floor, go and get his hoodie to warm you up. while they're away, she softly says "you're poorly, aren't you, lovely?"; you just crumble and start crying like "really don't feel well. thought i could push through it but i can't. and i don't want to not do my work but also i don't want to make everyone else unwell. and i pissed matty off so i can't even get him to cuddle me", and straight up just sob into your friend's arms as she pats your head quite maternally. ross and eilidh come back in - he passes you a zip-up hoodie and eilidh passes you one of her teddies 😭 - followed a minute or so later by matty, whose face just crumples when he sees you crying. he hurries over to you with an "oh, sweetheart, c'mere", hugging you and shushing you when you try to apologise for earlier (although he says his own apology - he sits with you until he has to get ready for the show, despite your protests that he'll get sick, letting you sleep with your head on his lap and holding a cold compress on your skin to cool you down. during the show, you stand with ross's wifey and a cup of soup at the side of the stage, bundled up in hoodies and cardigans and blankets but feeling better than you did beforehand, matty stealing little glances at you to see you're alright. it's a pretty quiet night for you and matty post-show - dinner, a shower together, some more paracetamol (for him too, so he doesn't get sick), and cups of tea and cuddles in bed. the best remedy, i think <3

#mads answers asks #matty asks #fluff asks #d word matty

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writing-whump · 5 months

Note

okay request about my specialest babygirl, I'd love to know more of Matt's backstory!

Maybe a fever having him spill to Zaya and Sel?

Fever revelations

"Stay still," Matew grumbled against his shoulder.

"You are heavy," Isaiah protested with a fond smile.

Matthew was surprisingly clingy, when he was feverish. The redhead came home all sluggish and tired and Isaiah knew something was up before he napped through the afternoon. No surprise that when he woke up, he was shivering, flushed and more grumbly than usual.

Isaiah wanted to let him sleep in peace, but Matthew followed him around the kitchen like a lost puppy, blanket halfheartedly clutched around his shoulders. So Isaiah settled for the couch, Matthew a living furnace beside him, leaning against his shoulder under a heap of blankets while he trembled with chills.

"You guys watching something fun?" Seline's voice came from the staircase as she walked down.

She raised her eyebrows at them. "Cuddle session without me?"

Isaiah snickered.

Matthew got even more red than he was already, which was impressive. "We- this- ufff. This is not cuddling!"

He gave her an indignant stare. Would have been more effective if his eyes weren't so glassy, his nose wasn't running and his body was all but glued to Isaiah side for additional warmth.

"Matthew's sick," Isaiah explained.

"How do you always catch everything that comes through town?" Seline complained, sitting down beside Matthew on the sofa with a huff.

"As if I had any say in it."

"Well, hurry up and get better. It's just a week until Christmas!"

Matthew rolled his eyes, then sneezed loudly.

Seline grimaced. "Bless you. But you could at least cover your mouth."

"If you covered yours, I might not have ended u-"

Isaiah shook his head in exasperation, tugging Matthew closer against him, disturbing his equilibrium enough for him to cut himself off.

It seemed Seline and Matthew figured out a way to talk through awkward situations. Not that there was anything all that nice about it, but it put them both at ease and Isaiah knew nothing serious was up if they kept it up.

Matthew sneezed again, hugging himself. Isaiah adjusted the blanket so it covered him up to his neck.

Seline got up. "I'll make you some tea. You too, Isaiah?"

Isaiah nodded in thanks.

"What do you two always have with the tea? It's not a miracle cure," Matthew murmured under his nose. He was shivering, but sweating simultaneously, his brows and upper leap covered in it, dark red hair plastered to the back of his neck.

"It's healing herbs, warmth for your organism and it makes us feel like we are helping," Seline said cheekily from the kitchen as she put the water to boil.

Matthew rolled his eyes, then sagged against the sofa, rubbing at his temples.

"Don't do that," Isaiah chastised, "you will just make yourself dizzy."

"Already did," Matthew whined, pressing his forehead against Isaiah's neck and shoulder. "What the hell is a fever even for? I could handle the sniffles and the raw throat, but not being able to move because my body weights a ton doesn't make sense."

"It's fighting the virus inside you and making you rest. Or do you mean to claim you would not go for your run and then to the gym, if you only had the sniffles?"

"Tsk. Sniffles wouldn't stop me. Not a weakling..."

Isaiah just shook his head again, arm propped around the sofa where Matthew was leaning. Not quite snuggling, but opening the possibility.

Matthew sagged against him, grumbling something in gibberish as his voice trailed away.

Seline came with a tray of tea and cups, making a displeased pout, though her eyes were sparkling. "He didn't make it that long, huh?"

"Maybe better without the tea," Isaiah said, cupping the side of Matthew's face that was still hidden against his neck. "His fever is real high."

"Should I get him some cold compress? Thermometer? Or outright with the ibuprofen?"

Isaiah bit his lip in worry. It wasn't such a big thing. Matthew was strong, uninjured, safe and at home. Nothing that bad was happening. His chest still twisted in worry, like ants crawling down his ribs. "Maybe everything?"

Seline huffed, leaning over to kiss the top of Isaiah's head before going to collect the items.

In a few minutes, all three of them were settled on the couch, Matthew between them as per the tradition. Seline mopped the fever sweat from Matthew's neck and cheek, sliding it over his skin carefully.

Matthew groaned, wiggling uneasily under the touch.

"Shhhh. Just sleep. It's okay," she whispered, brushing a lock of hair away.

"Mmmmm." Matthew's face scrunched up as he slid down the sofa to an almost lying position, an arm around Isaiah's waist. "I don't feel good."

"I know, bud," Isaiah shushed, a hand running down Matthew's sweaty back, looking at Seline. "Maybe we should help him into some dry cloth-"

"Nooo. Don't send me to my room." Matthew's eyebrows drew together, forehead furrowing as he nuzzled against Isaiah's side.

Isaiah chuckled. "I'm not-"

"Please. I don't want to be alone there."

The smile vanished from his lips immediately. "Matt?"

"I swear I won't do anything. Just let me stay here."

Isaiah exchanged a concerned look with Seline, who lifted herself up on her knees. "Alright. That fever is going down." She reached for the meds and a glass of water on the table.

Isaiah put his arms around Matthew, helping him sit up so Seline could hold the pills to his lips. "Mattie, sweetheart, take these. Your fever is super high."

Matthew opened a bleary eye at them, nodding slightly and opening his mouth enough for Seline to slide the pills in. She held the glass of water to him to help him swallow.

Matthew shuddered, another chill running down his spine.

"Matt? You with us, bud?" Isaiah wrapped his arm around him from behind, guiding him back into a lying position on the sofa and against his side.

"Hmmmm. You are not leaving, right?" Matthew looked at him with big dark brown eyes. Isaiah didn't know if they glistened from the fever or unshed tears. His heart was clenching in his chest at the sight nontheless.

"Of course not, buddy."

"They wouldn't let me stay," Matthew complained, face scrunched up in concentration to finish the thought that troubled him. "Had to be in my room or outside...but I just wanted to see her again."

"Who did you want to see?" Isaiah asked softly, petting Matthew's hair.

"My younger sister. Marcella. She is a witch, so they wouldn't let me...but she was never afraid of me, you know? They...they were always afraid, but she never was."

"I didn't know you had a sister," Seline said quietly, propping her head on her hand, elbow on top fo the sofa as she watched Matthew carefully.

"Many siblings. But only Marcella...I only got to see her during summer holidays, when I got back from the boarding school...haven't seen her since starting uni." Matthew turned his face towards Seline, voice small. "She was so small back then. Do you think she would remember me?"

Seline frowned in thought. "Depends on how old-"

"Of course she would," Isaiah reassured, interrupting her. Objective information wouldn't be of help here.

Seline pressed her lips, bowing her head.

"Do you think..." Matthew's voice wavered dangerously, bordering on a sob, "do you think they would let me see her again?"

Ah. Isaiah knew Matthew was considered troublesome because of his giant shadow and bad temper. He obviously had control problems since he was a child. His pack was big, his family had many kids from Isaiah understood and they had little time and patience for 'problematic' shadows.

And witches were rare and precious for any pack to have. Isaiah wouldn't be surprised if Matthew's parents had as many kids as they could just so they could get one witch for a daughter. Humans would be ignored as disappointments if they didn't become something useful like doctors or lawyers and troublesome pups would be neglected and delegated to wolf boarding schools as soon as possible.

Isaiah wrinkled his nose. 14 was the earlier age to get into a boarding school. A very sensitive age for a wolf. Pups in their teen years needed good examples and guidance from their fathers and older brothers to manage their training and to rule their tempers. He didn't hear many good things about the boarding schools either. There were only a few of them specializing in wolves, to help them get their adult exam, which would give them permission to study and work in heavily human-populated areas.

"Your sister surely wants to see you as well. I don't see why they wouldn't let you guys meet," Isaiah said pragmatically, thinking of all the reasons that might not work.

If Matthew's family pack decided he was too much trouble to waste resources on, they would cut all contact with him. It was very likely that was what happened, with Matthew being known around the campus as the wolf without a pack. Not because he didn't want one, like Isaiah, but because none would have him.

Matthew grimaced, turning away from the light to press his face into Isaiah's thigh, drawing the blanket over his face. He was shaking slightly. "That's a merciful lie, Zaya. Thank you."

Isaiah rubbed his back, deciding then and there he was going to make that lie a reality, whatever it took. The next wolf meet was the week after Christmas. He would just ask around for the Blackwells a bit, see who represented them in the city and how he could get access to their leader. Arrange a meeting or two.

If Matthew's family wanted nothing to do with him, he could hardly make them. But if Matthew had a backing of a wolf known for diplomacy and control? If he had an official pack now, including a witch of his own? Isaiah could change their minds alright.

For today, he could just stroke Matthew's arm as Seline pressed against the redhead's back.

#sickfic #whump writing #cold #fever #my writing #werewolf wip #hope you like the sneak peak #Matt

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usafphantom2 · 2 months

Text

SR- 71 up in the clouds …Everything about the SR 71 was exceptional and brand new, but let’s get into some details.

Special hydraulic fuel was created that would function at unusually high temperatures. The JP 7 fuel had a flashpoint that was so high that a lighted cigarette tossed in a pail of it would go out!

Pure rubber tires filled with air would’ve exploded and caught on fire, even when retracted in the wheel wells, so BFGoodrich came up with tires whose rubber was mixed with aluminum powder to make them fire-retardant and then filled them with nitrogen, not air so that they wouldn’t burn in the heat. The wheel wells into which the landing gear retracted were themselves shielded and surrounded by tanks of very cold fuel tanks, which were what engineers call heat sinks. The fuel absorbs heat in the wheel wells and elsewhere, as a cold compress absorbs heat from a fevered forehead.

The following incredible idea that worked was the hot fuel, which had absorbed much of the plane's body heat, was pumped into the engines, which made them more efficient!

How fascinating!

William Burrows

@Habubrats71 via X

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fizzing-imagines · 10 months

Text

Playtime Pt. 1 | Daycare Teacher! Billy Hargrove x Reader

Notes: This, too, has been living in my head rent-free

Warnings: Alcohol consumtion, pregnancy

Words: 2k

Your best friend and roommate Jenny called in a panic, asking you if you could pick up her 1-year old daughter, your godchild, from her daycare as she started running a fever unexpectedly. She put you down as an emergency contact at her daycare, and she was so caught-up at work that her boss wouldn't let her leave. Of course you agreed, you loved your godchild and treated her as your own. So you got into your car and drove down to said daycare. Once you arrived, you saw the photowall with the employees pictures at the entrance as a new face struck out to you. A handsome, young guy named William Hargrove. You greeted the known faces of the other attendants as you quickly made your way into her toddler room.

"Hi, I'm here to pick up Ari.", you said to the new employee, William, as you entered. "Are you her godmother?", he asked you. "I'll have to ID you because I've never been here for you to pick her up." You gave him an understanding nodd before fishing your wallet out of your bag. Once found, you showed him your ID to which he turned around and got Ari from the book corner. Her face was flushed red and her eyes were watery. "(Y/N).", she mumbled as she reached out her arms to get to you. Happily, you carried her on your arms to make her feel better. "Can I ask you a question?", you asked William in a worried tone. "Sure, any time.", he said with a smile. "I've never took care of a sick toddler, and her mum works for three more hours. What do I do now?" You were at a loss, Jenny always knew what to do. This was a first, for both you and Ari. "Well, I don't have any kids of my own so I can't really recommend anything. Other parents here use Calpol though." You nodded your head while mumbling "Calpol, okay." to help yourself remember. "And cold compresses on the legs and neck if her fever gets higher." You nodded once again. "But it's best if you try and go to the doctor with her, they can tell you much more than I can." He smiled at you as you nodded for the third time. "Thank you so much, and thank you for looking after her.", you said while smiling back at him. "It's not a big deal. Just remember that we have a 48-hour rule of being free of symptoms until she can return to daycare." You were happy that he told you, because you wouldn't have known any of that. "Thank you very much, William.", you said with a smile. "Just call me Billy."

Ari stayed home with you for the entire week as you were on a two-week holiday for your mental health. It helped you a lot, actually, as you had a hard time getting up and doing anything for yourself. So taking care of a tiny human, feeding her, putting her to bed, bathing her, it helped you with doing something good for yourself. So good that, when Jenny was home for the weekend, you decided to go out partying with two friends from high school on a Sunday night. You picked out a beautiful dress, did your makeup, styled your hair and you haven't felt this good about yourself in weeks. After months of low confidence, it shot through the roof just like that.

The club was loud and smelly. People were chatting, dancing, making out in some corner and most of all, drinking alcohol like it was water. Your friends made it their goal for the night as well and made a bee-line to the bar with you. They ordered three shots of tequila, followed by a mojito and a vodka-soda. As you felt the alcohol kicking in, you felt like dancing and made them go on the dance floor with you. You gave it your all, dancing with anyone who was willing to get close to you. And you had such a fun time, being carefree and wild for just one night until you bumped into someone you knew while looking for your next dance partner. "Billy?", you yelled over the loud music. He looked at you, trying to match your face with someone you knew, and he remembered eventually. "(Y/N)!", he said with a grin. "Nice seeing you here!" Billy was clearly intoxicated, and completely different than from who you saw at the daycare. Well, teachers have a private life so you shouldn't be too surprised. But you did end up being surprised when he put an arm around your shoulder and led you to the bar. "Let me buy you a drink, pretty thing.", he said with a flirtatious smirk. You blushed at his words, wondering how one 10-minute impression could get him to talk like that. "S-sure.", you replied, a bit flustered. Billy bought you a Rum-Cola with another shot of Tequila. Your already-buzzed brain did the math and concluded that you'd be piss-drunk in about an hour. "You know, you have to look each other in the eyes when you toast.", he said to you while taking the shot in his hands. "Why?", you asked him. "Because if you don't, you'll have bad sex for the next 7 years." His statement surprised you so much that you couldn't even look away from his eyes, so he took his opportunity to toast with a wink. Oh, so that's the road he chose?

Did you end up back at his apartment? Absolutely. Both of you got drunk as shit and slept together. But you did leave his place when you woke up at 2am and realized what you've done. One check on your Nokia 3110 showed you that you've abandoned your friends at the club with no warning; you had 7 missed calls from them and 3 missed calls from Jenny. "Shit.", you mumbled under your breath as you wriggled out of Billy's arms that were wrapped around your waist. Quickly, you got dressed, called a Taxi and drove back to your apartment. Once you entered, you saw dim light in the living room and stumbled inside, still slightly intoxicated, to find Jenny on the couch. She was trying to keep herself occupied, but you could see her nervousness because she chewed on the nail of her index finger. "Jenny.", you whispered while clumsily taking your shoes off. "Jesus Christ (Y/N)", she whispered back while getting up from the couch. "You've had me worried sick, where were you?". Oh shit. Now you'll have to tell her. "I was...uhm...at a guys house.", you stuttered, still whispering. "Seriously? What, isn't that good? When have you last done that?" She had a wide smile on her face, the initial anxiety and anger washed away in an instant. "Not really.", you whispered in an anxious tone. "It was...it was William, Ari's teacher." Jennys eyes went wide in shock. "He was at the club, and we got drunk so..." She didn't say anything for a while. "Well, you sleep it off and we'll talk about it tomorrow, yeah?" That wasn't really what you were looking fir as an answer. "I'm not angry. I'm just surprised." Now that actually calmed you, but you understood that she needed to cope with what you told her just now.The two of you went to bed, and you didn't wake up until 1pm. The apartment was empty by then, and as soon as you woke up you had to make a bee-line to the bathroom to throw up. Your guts hurt like a bitch, your throat burnined and your head was pounding. Jenny, being the sweet soul that she is, already put out ibuprofen and a glass of water on the small table you had in the bathroom. You were so lucky to have her. In hopes of relief, you took the ibuprofen and went back to bed. Your phone woke you up two hours later with Jenny calling. "What's up?", you grumbled into the speaker. "Good morning.", she said in a cheerful voice. "I have to work overtime today, can you pick up Ari?" A cold shiver ran down your spine. "With Billy there? I doubt it.", you replied in a hoarse voice. Why did your throat hurt so bad? There must have been more than just throwing up...oh. "He went partying yesterday, I doubt he'll wanna work while hungover. He wasn't in this morning, so he most likely has a day off." Jenny was right, and you knew it. "Fine, I'll be the lesbian adoptive mom.", you replied while getting out of bed. "Thank you honey, love you.", Jenny said before handing up. Slowly, you got dressed, put on sunglasses and started driving to Aris daycare. Your brain fully convinced you that Billy wouldn't be there, because who in the world would be such a jackass, so you took it easy as you walked in. Well, both you and Jenny were horribly wrong. Ari was standing behind Billy, who sat on a tiny chair, while putting bows and clips in his mullet. Both were all alone in the room, all kids being picked uo already and the other two teachers outside cleaning up. Did Billy look pleased? Not really, but he didn't look hungover either. Your goddaughter saw you as soon as you closed the door behind. "(Y/N)!", she cheered as she took you by the hand to lead you to Billy. "Pwetty.", she added with a proud smile. "Oh yes, Ari, you made Billy really pretty.", you agreed and undermined your statement with a nod. She then pointed at you with a questioning look. "You can do my hair at home, yeah?" She smiled and nodded in agreement before you picked her up and carried her back to the door. "Can you say bye bye?", you asked Ari. She waved her tiny hand at Billy with a grin on her face. "See you tomorrow, Ari.", Billy said with a wave back.

Weeks passed, you haven't picked up Ari in since the first incident. Once you told Jenny, she started asking Aris godfather to do pickups. Her baby daddy was a no-good leech, and her parents didn't support her so it was just you, Jenny and the godfather. And you thought that it was ideal, but that ideal was broken by a tiny plastic stick with two blue lines on it. "Fuck...", you mumbled. It was all you could say. Jenny was at home, taking a quick shower before wanting to pick up Ari from daycare. "What does it say?", she asked you while peaking out of the shower. "I'm pregnant...", you mumbled. It felt so real now that you've said it. "And you're sure it's Billy's?", she continued. "I haven't had sex with anyone else in the past six months.", you told her while pulling your legs into a criss-cross position. The two of you were having a deja-vu, as this was the exact same way Jenny found out she was gonna have Ari. Just with a different father. "So, I'll give him your number when I pick up Ari and we'll go from there. At least he has a stable job.", Jenny said while washing out her conditioner. "You're way too calm, Jen.", you said. "I just told you I'm pregnant, you're taking this easy." You could hear her chuckle. "Well, if he's a dick as well we'll just be a four-people household."

But Billy did call you and asked to talk with you face-to-face. While Jenny didn't tell him what exactly happened, she did tell him that it was important. Billy already had his suspicions at those words, but he didn't know how to feel about them. His mind was reeling as he drove over to your place to pick you up, and you were waiting on the sidewalk with the test in hand. He parked at the nearest parking spot and waited for you to enter. Once you sat down next to him, you silently handed him the test. "Well, fuck.", he mumbled as he looked at the two blue lines.

"Yeah, that's kinda how that happened."

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine

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akariarda · 2 months

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Best team and family

Request from ao3.

Llyod won't come out of his room for a while, it made the Ninjas, Master Wu and Sensei Garmadon got worried and when they checked his room and he has a fever.

"Where is Lloyd?"Sensei Garmadon asked when he came out from the training room.

"I haven't seen him all day.

"He doesn't want to come out of his room," Kai spoke while he and the rest of the ninja were playing video games.

"Why?" Sensei Garmadon asked.

"I don't know," Nya shrugged her shoulders. "He just keeps saying he wants us to leave him alone."

"That's strange," Jay said. "Lloyd doesn't usually behave like this."

"Maybe he just needs some time alone," Zane suggested.

"Watch out, Jay, we're going to lose," Cole said as they all continued playing games.

"Who gave you permission to play games all day?" Sensei Wu angrily asked. "You were supposed to come to training."

"We thought of taking the day off because of Lloyd and everything," Kai tried to save the team.

"Okay, that's enough," Sensei Garmadon came and knocked on Lloyd's door.

"Lloyd,son, are you okay?"

"Just leave me alone," Lloyd grumpily said.

"See, Zane was right," Cole shrugged. "He wants to be alone."

"I'll go see what's happening," Sensei Garmadon exclaimed and opened the door to Lloyd's room.

"Lloyd..."

"Are you okay?" Nya was the first to reach him and saw that he was lying on the bed.

"I just need some rest," Lloyd mumbled.

"Lloyd, buddy," Kai looked worried. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Come here, son," Sensei Garmadon gestured as he reached Lloyd's bed.

"I was thinking the same thing," Sensei Garmadon said after checking his forehead.

"Is he okay?" Sensei Wu asked.

"He has a fever, a high one," Garmadon said worriedly. "It's best for him to lie down."

"I'll bring you tea," Kai said and ran to the kitchen.

"I'll get the blanket, and Zane and Cole can get the cold compresses," Nya said.

"And me?" Jay asked.

"You can keep him company until we come back," Nya replied.

"Okay, then," Jay said as they all left.

"I don't think he's up for talking," Sensei Wu said.

"I know," Jay agreed, sitting by Lloyd's bed across from Sensei Garmadon.

"It will be fine," Sensei Garmadon said, gently patting Lloyd. "You have a great team looking after you."

"That's true," Sensei Wu proudly said. "They have matured a lot."

"Of course we care for him," Jay said. "In a few days, you'll be back and playing games with us."

"And training," Sensei Wu added.

"Here's the blanket," Nya said, entering the room. "Are you cold?"

"A little," Lloyd shivered, his teeth chattering.

"Then here, have more blankets," Nya tried to sound carefree, but it was obvious she was worried.

"I'll call Misako to bring fever-reducing tablets when she comes back from work," Sensei Garmadon stood up.

"In the meantime, apply cold compresses. Where are those two?"

"Here we are," Cole said as he and Zane brought the cold compresses.

"Let's apply them."Sensei Wu said.

"Here's the tea," Kai exclaimed and went to make Lloyd rest, but accidentally spilled it on himself.

ARGG!

"Are you okay?" Zane asked.

"No, I spilled the tea all over because of this..." Kai looked as if he were about to strangle Jay.

"Enough!" Sensei Wu exclaimed. "How aren't you ashamed! Your friend is sick, and you're yelling as if you're on the street. Apologize to Lloyd."

"Sorry, Lloyd," Kai came and sat next to him. "How are you?"

"I really didn't mean it. We are all worried about you," Jay explained.

"Thank you for caring about me. You are truly the best," Lloyd said.

"Of course, we will always look out for you," Cole said.

"You would do the same for us," Nya added. "We know that."

" I think it's best to let Lloyd rest," Sensei Wu said as the ninjas started leaving the room, saying goodbye to Lloyd.

"My sensors say you might recover soon," Zane said as he left.

"Thanks, Zane," Lloyd smiled. "Dad, can you stay with me?"

"Of course," Sensei Garmadon said, sitting beside him.

"Your mother will be here soon and will bring the tablets. Until then, you'll be fine. Everyone, take care of you."

#ninjago #Sensei garmadon #lloyd montgomery garmadon #kai smith #nya smith #jay walker #cole brookstone #zane julien #Master Wu #Sensei Wu #Misako mentioned #Ninja team

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bumblepony · 5 months

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sick fic with ellie falling asleep on joels chest? 🥺 👉🏻👈🏻

Ok, this one totally got away from me! So thanks, Anon, I blame you. But I also hope you really like it. Story below the cut and cross-posted to AO3. Shout out to @freetobeyouandmichi-me for helping me with the title.

Cold Compresses and Shaky Hands

Joel heaves Ellie back up into his arms, knees creaking, back aching, and tries not to think about the heat coming off her. Her skin, where it’s exposed, is covered in a fine sheen of sweat, and her breathing is thin and labored.

Ellie's gonna be ok. She's gonna be ok. She's gonna be ok. Joel keeps repeating to himself as he moves, he clings to the words like a lifeline thrown out in the trashing waters of the ocean to a drowning man. Because he is drowning, if he can’t save her, there's nothing in the world that would save him. She's gonna be ok. She's gonna be ok. She's gonna be ok.

The gates of Jackson rise up in front of him, and he nearly collapses with relief, but he knows he has to keep going for her. His feet stumble on a root, and he falls to his knees. He has to throw a hand out to catch himself, his other arm clutching desperately to Ellie. He is just barely able to keep her against his chest, but the jolt of their landing causes a pained moan to escape Ellie's throat. He soothes her as best he can with mumbled words while trying to gain back his feet.

"It's gonna be okay, baby girl, we're almost home." His voice is rough and broken, and his eyes are barely able to keep open. They had been walking for two days now.

They had been out on day two of their four-day patrol when Ellie started showing signs of sickness. Ellie had tried arguing that they should continue on, but Joel put his foot down, sighting the patrol rules stating if a patrolman was sick or injured, they must return to town immediately. It had just been sheer bad luck that when they had made to turn back to town, a group of infected happened upon them, spooking the horses and leaving them to track back on foot once they’d dispatched the small group. Joel knew the horses would make their way back to Jackson, but it left him and Ellie at an impasse.

Should they stay at the nearest lookout until someone finds the horses and comes out to find them, or should they just head back on foot? They had camping gear they could safely stay out a few nights, Ellie finally made the choice against Joel’s better judgment to push on.

By nightfall, Joel was kicking himself for letting her talk him into it. Her fever was high enough that she was shivering uncontrollably under all her layers, and her eyes were dull with the heartache she complained of. They set up camp and slept for a few fitful hours before Ellie could sleep no more. They cleaned up and started moving again, Ellie’s grip tight on her riffle head tucked down inside the coat of her jacket. The late falls in Wyoming got cold fast, and Joel could already feel the first nibblings of winter in the morning air. By midday, Joel knew they should have stayed at the checkpoint, but it was too late now, they had to keep pushing. By evening, Ellie was barely coherent, she spoke to herself and jumped at every shadow. They sat down for an hour to get some water in her, and Joel tried to encourage her to eat, but she just threw up everything he gave her. He pressed a cold compress to her neck with shaky hands and prayed to a god he no longer believed in that she would be ok.

When they started moving again, Ellie could barely walk. Joel finally convinced her to ride on his back, and they trekked closer to Jackson at a much-delayed pace. They stopped once more when Joel could feel Ellie trembling so hard on his back he thought she might break apart. He swore when he pulled her down and could see that her skin was pale and clammy. “Shit, Ellie baby, ya can’t do this to me. We are gonna get you back.” He had hefted her into his arms, leaving his and her packs buried under a pile of leaves. All he carried was his rifle on his back, a canteen in a sling to try and keep her hydrated, and his baby girl in his arms.

He was not gonna lose her.

On his knees in the dirt, Jackson’s wall looming in the distance, Ellie’s still, small body against his chest, Joel pushes himself up, desperation so old it went back twenty-some-odd years the only thing keeping him moving, he is not going to lose another daughter.

When he hears the hoofbeats and sees the face of his brother, he weeps, babbling to him, holding Ellie out in supplication. Tommy comes forward, taking Ellie into his arms and leaving Joel to the other two patrol men to wrangle on a horse. Tommy is already away, Ellie held tight to his chest as he gallops towards the gate.

Joel comes after as fast as his exhausted body can move. By the time he is finally inside the gates and at the clinic, Ellie is already inside, doctors hovering around her, outer clothing pulled away as they gently submerge her in a cooling bath. Joel stumbles to her side, reaching for her limp hand in the water.

“Joel, brother, c’mon. She’s gonna be ok, we gotta let the doctors work,” Tommy's hands are warm and steading on Joel's shoulder, and he lets his brother pull him away but only far enough so as not to get in the way.

—

Tommy brings him clean clothing and a thermos of hickory root coffee, knowing that Joel will not be sleeping until Ellie is safely in the clear. Hours pass, and Joel helps the doctors get Ellie out of the bath once her temperature has come down enough to have her out of danger. He gently comforts her when she awakens, confused and frightened, in wet clothing, memories of a winter four years past still plaguing her nightmares. He shoos the doctors away, and he and Tommy help dry her and clothe her in comfortable, warm sweats, so big on her petite frame she swims in them.

Tommy calls the doctors back, and they get her hooked up to an IV of fluids. A nurse hands him a cup and two small pills to help with her pain and the fever, and he helps her hold the cup to her lips so she can swallow them. Once that’s done, Tommy and the doctors leave, and Ellie makes grabby motions for him. He happily climbs into the bed with her, and she presses herself against his side and over his chest, her ear to his heart.

“What happened, Joel?” She asks, her voice weak.

“You got sick, kiddo.” His hand rubs up and down her spine, the bones still far too prominent for his comfort.

“I know that, but how did we get back?” Her hands clutch to his chest, and her face presses against the soft flannel of his shirt.

“We walked, and then I carried you.” He says, placing a soft kiss on her head as his other hand cards carefully through her knotted hair.

“That had to have been miles, Joel, how could you have managed that?” Her body loosens by his side, and he knows that she won’t be able to stay awake much longer.

“Doesn’t matter how far I have to go, baby girl, I’m always gonna be able to carry ya. Nothing on this earth could stop me from gettin' ya home safe and sound.” He has to cough to clear the tightness in his throat, and then he lays his cheek against the top of her head, and he rumbles. “I got you, baby. Go to sleep, I got you.”

Ellie sighs, and they drift off together, warm and safe in each other's embrace, father and daughter.

#tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller #ellie williams #tommy miller #sickfic #family fluff #ao3 #asks #ficlets

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zhongrin · 9 days

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G I X Y D

selfship a-z ask game ->

cw. slight angst on "I"

G - Greetings what was their first meeting like?

𝔃𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓲 ᡣ𐭩 this fic hahaha

ⲇⳑ ⲏⲇⳕτⲏⲇϻ ᡣ𐭩 at al haitham's grandmother's house, while the adults are chatting over teatime: "what'cha reading?" "…. a book." "…. fair enough. *proceeds to take a book from the shelf and reads it beside him*"

𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔶 ᡣ𐭩 "*is especially nervous bc oh no he's hot* hello, your grace." "oh, hi. *notices i'm trembling like a pitiful wet dog* haha, relax, i don't bite." "*dies a little inside* y-yes, your grace...."

I - Imagine what do they imagine their futures together like?

𝔃𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓲 ᡣ𐭩 all contracts comes to an end eventually, once the conditions are fulfilled ー and the same goes for ours. but until then, he'll just enjoy walking in the long winding path that is an immortal's life. maybe a few kids, watch over our descendants, be awed at the technological advancements of liyue… as they say, when the boat gets to the bridge-head, it will naturally go straight.

ⲇⳑ ⲏⲇⳕτⲏⲇϻ ᡣ𐭩 we're both chronic planners, so we have regular talks about it and therefore a clear plan on what we want or not want to do in the future. married, preferably two kids, a nice pension plan, some savings in the bank, adopt a dog when the kids leave the nest, enjoy retirement reading books and doing whatever nerdy hobbies we want to enjoy.

𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔶 ᡣ𐭩 this man keeps telling himself not to dream too high lest it all crash down horribly at the end. honestly, with his past i think a part of him desperately wants a happy little family of his own, but the other half is so afraid he'll fuck it all up because he's never really truly experienced familial love. but deep in his heart he really just wants a resemblance of a normal life ー he knows his situation isn't ideal, but he wants a little family he can care for and be surrounded with as his fists get weaker and he passes down the title of the fortress' administrator to a suitable successor.

X - X-ray how do they help the other if they’re sick or tired?

𝔃𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓲 ᡣ𐭩 he's big on acts of service and words of affirmation, so he'll brew a pot of osmanthus tea and either sits me down to relax (if i'm tired) or tuck me in to bed (if i'm sick). househusband material, will cook and do all the chores flawlessly. liwei and liwen (especially the former) tries to sneak past him to cuddle with me, but he'd scoop up the littol noodles and distract them somehow ᰔᩚ

ⲇⳑ ⲏⲇⳕτⲏⲇϻ ᡣ𐭩 makes sure to tick all the steps in 'how to care for a sick person' book. but also he takes all the things that his grandparents do for him whenever he got sick ᰔᩚ like making me soup and (if i plead enough times) humming a calming lullaby to help me sleep hehe

𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔶 ᡣ𐭩 makes sure that i'm taking time off from work, calls sigewinne for a home visit, and most of all, if i have fever, he'd personally use his hand as a cold compress. none of the staffs in the fortress of meropide would ever imagine they'd hear an excuse "sorry, can't come to work today, i need to be my wife's compress." from their administrator but they let him skip work since they know he deserves the rest anyway :3

Y - Yes who would propose? What would the proposal be like?

answered here ->

D - Danger how do they react to finding out the other person is in trouble?

...... *squints* i seem to remember answering a selfship ask game with this prompt last time...

𝔃𝓱𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓲 ᡣ𐭩 if it's within liyue, i'd like to think that he'd know almost immediately, but if not, it would be a little more complicated. depending on the severity of said danger... hmm.... well.... let's just say he wouldn't take it just lying down....

ⲇⳑ ⲏⲇⳕτⲏⲇϻ ᡣ𐭩 have we ever seen al haitham truly furious or 'panicked' in-game? (mmm that azar cutscene... yummy... but i mean that's him acting mad so does it count??) i'd like to think that he still tries to be rational, figure out a way to handle things efficiently... but push a man hard enough and he'll break eventually. just remember what they say about the quiet/calm ones...

𝔴𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔩𝔢𝔶 ᡣ𐭩 ohohoho- ahem. i mean, we've seen it in his story quest. man takes action immediately. will throw a few punches if need be. if the duke wants somebody dead, he needs no justification. understood? ˙ ᵕ ˙

#rin answers #rin is having tea with: queen 💙#rin selfships #zhongrin #meitham #wrin

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catsandgoodbooks · 7 months

Text

No. 13: “It comes and goes like the strength in your bones.”

Cold Compress | Infection | “I don’t feel so good.”

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

“It’s really not that bad,” Dream protested. He glared at Punz from his place on the bed. It was fine. So he was a little sick maybe. So what? He wasn’t going to die, and, even if he did, Punz could just bring him back. It wasn’t an issue.

“I’m sure it isn’t, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there,” Punz answered, eyes down and unwavering as they took the thermometer out of his mouth. They clicked their tongue. “104. That’s bad, Dream.”

“I feel fine.” Dream shifted uncomfortably. He knew that was bad – they both did – but still. He didn’t want them to be worried about him, even if he could acknowledge that is a bit late for that.

“Good to know,” Punz commented. “It still doesn’t change the facts, Dream.” They reached over to grab a wet cloth and drape it over his forehead. Dream hated to admit it but it made him feel a little bit better. “Want any water?”

“Sure,” Dream answered. He did – his throat was sandpaper at this point – and it wouldn’t hurt to say yes. Knowing Punz, they probably wanted him to.

“Here.” They passed him a glass of water and placed a comforting hand on his back as Dream struggled up into a vertical position. The glass was cold, so so cold against his fingers. The water was too. He decided he liked it.

(Punz’s hands were cold too. He wondered which one of them it was; where they actually cold or was he just hot? There wasn’t any reason for their hands to be cold)

“Anything’s been happening?” Dream asked as he handed them back the glass and lay himself back down.

“Not much. Things seem pretty chill right now,” Punz answered. “The manhunt’s still going on; no progress, though. No one’s heard from Tubbo or Technoblade for a bit; still not over Ranboo, I guess. Sapnap’s still Sapnap,” they rolled their eyes, “Sam’s gone silent but that’s not new and you already knew that.” Dream hadn’t told Punz everything about what happened, had omitted a couple details (didn’t tell them it was a week, didn’t tell them about the cake, didn’t tell them about how the death had been a mercy), but they still had a rough idea. Even if they didn’t, even if he hadn’t told them a thing, they’d probably still know. The scar had been meant as a message, and it did its job well.

“George’s still asleep, Ranboo’s still dead, Tommy’s still annoying. Not much happened. Not much changed. You haven’t missed that much, I swear,” they said, grinning crookedly.

“Good.” Dream let himself relax a little. Good. He hadn’t missed anything. Good. “Thanks, Punz.”

“Of course,” they replied, smiling. “Anything for my favorite war criminal.”

Dream snorted at that. “Let’s not ignore the fact that you helped with like half of them, Punz.”

“Exactly. Our love language is murder,” Punz said dryly.

Dream rolled his eyes. “I mean, you’re not wrong.” He closed his eyes for just a moment. “Thanks for–thanks for all of this, really, but you didn’t have to do this, Punz. I’m not–incompetent. I can still do stuff,” Dream argued. He was still useful. He hadn’t been ruined. He didn’t need to rely on other people as a crutch, no matter what happened. “You don’t have to do this.”

Punz nodded. “I know. That doesn’t make it so that I don’t want to do this, and you doing stuff while you have a ridiculously high fever and five infections is just going to make it all worse.” They gestured for him to lift his head up and he did. They wrapped another wet towel around his neck. “It’s not going to help you get better, and we’re not on enough of a time crunch that it's necessary. We have plenty of time; we can take a couple days off.”

“We’re falling behind. We still have so much to explore–” Dream started.

“We can do that later. When you’re feeling better. It’s just going to get worse if you don’t take a break. We can deal with the opportunity cost. We can survive.” They leaned forward and kissed him, lightly, gently, for just a moment, on the lips before pulling away. “We can survive, Dream. It’ll be fine.”

#whumptober2023 #no.13 #cold compress #infection #dsmp #fic #c!dream #c!punz #staged duo #drunz #my writing

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