#I HAVE SUCH BAD BABY FEVER IM SORRY

[goodlucksnez]

personal/emotional vent/observation thing please understand how vulnerable i am right now and respect that

what is my life

i am sitting in a hospital recovering from one of the worse experiences of my life,so traumatic, still sick with infection and pain, AND the fucking Netflix adaptation/live action of avatar --THAT made me realize im broken and i need people...like what the fuck is this timeline....I'm crying like actively sobbing/wailing at the show because fuck i relate to zuko too much. --god i need therapy -but even that, i dont know that would help, im going to do it but fuck depression is SPIRLING

"the truth is we would do anything for the ones we love...we travel incredible distance,risk our life and even fight mosntors ....it is scary to admit you need people....so people might see that as a weakness/liability, after all what greater pain is there for loving someone you lose or worse finding out someone you love has left you behind.

#emtional vent #im sorry for anyone who read this is and like what i baby #i am a baby #im 25 and i am scatred #scared #i dont know what to do #im emtional and sad and scared and bunch of other stuff #in other news i have been taken out of icu just in regular recovery hosital wing BUT i did get phenomena.... #i fuckin told them i had a bad immune systyem and they still didnt belive me when i spiked a fever #but then 2 days ago when i woke unable to breathe they were like of yeah phenomena #love it love my fuckin life #thank god for insurance becuase fuck i would be paything this off for the rest of my life if i did nt have my insurance #im going to keep crying over this show #god i would kill for a hug or something comforting #also spoiler but the fucking “leaves from the vine” chords that they keep putting in the show background music #my heart cannnot take it bro

[uglyducklingofthe2000s]

Hiii i love you and ur writing and idk if ur taking requests or not but if u are then please please can u write tooth rotting fluff for lando where the reader is sick and is nauseous all the time, not eating and has a stomach ache and he just helps her and take care of her..

I've been sich and puking my guts out from like 2 days and im in desperate need of lando taking care of me.

Ew You're Gross - LN

Ok, so usually I try to prioritise older requests but when I see it's sent in for a specific reason I always gotta knock it up to getting written first.

I do feel like Lando would sort of be a bit of a twat and try to use humour to make her feel better while being as best a nurse he can. also I'm so sorry, I didn't include like actually vomiting in this, just bc I wrote a fic about the reader having alcohol poisoning where she very much spewed everywhere just yesterday. I hope that's ok, he's still very caring, tentative and so boyfriend in this (that's what I'm aiming for).

It was entirely Lando's fault. They both know it. But not only has she got tonsillitis from her wonderful boyfriend who has since recovered, but she's got an ear infection because apparently her body had to double-down on itself.

Thankfully it's the Monaco race next and since they've got a couple weekends, she doesn't really need to worry about anything in terms of travelling with her ears being so vulnerably to the pressure of flying.

"Oh baby, you look so gross." Lando coos as he walks into the apartment and finds her struggling with a fever that won't break and no amount of ice cream has aided her throat in feeling better. "My poor baby."

"Don't even. This is your fault." Y/n croaks sounding like someone took sandpaper to her throat.

Lando pouts at her, kissing her cheek softly while he smiles at her.

"I'm going to nurse you for a bit. We've got load of time to get you all well again." Lando smiles trying to ignore her scolding temperature just from cupping her cheek. "I spoke to my mum, I spoke to Jon. I've got all the credentials to be a fully certified nurse."

"You are mental if you think I'm trusting you to be my nurse after you just said I look gross." Y/n pouts making Lando smile at her.

"Ok, stop talking because you look like you're in pain when you talk and you sound like you swallowed grit. So let's get you in a cool-ish shower, try and break your fever and then we'll get you all comfortable in bed and cosy. I got chicken noodle soup because I know it's your favourite and the only soup you'll allow within the vicinity."

Y/n does smile a little though she isn't exactly excited at the thought of a shower than is anything but hot at the very minimum. Burning is preferable.

She takes some coaxing to say the least, but Lando manages to get y/n in the just colder than lukewarm shower.

"You're so pretty." Lando smiles as her red face pouts at him. Even cooling down the tonsillitis has her face flushed just because it's pretty bad.

"Can I please get out now?" Y/n whines making him smile at her and nod, readying a large towel which her surrounds her in as soon as she steps out, her body trembling and shivering hard as she seeks warmth in the room temperature towel.

Progress is made since he manages to take her to the bedroom. Drying her hair on the cool setting, dressing her in the lightest weight pyjamas that she has.

"Alright, I'm going to heat up the soup. You just keep yourself comfortable." Lando instructs while she smiles lightly at him. "I love you."

"I love you too...a lot." Y/n murmurs though he knows she wishes she didn't love him enough to have kissed him, confident she wouldn't catch his tonsillitis. Too confident because she did and hers is worse than his was.

After getting her to eat half of the soup before she started to insist that it hurt too much to keep swallowing which did earn a small smirk then in turn she rolled her eyes at him.

-

Morning rolled around and actually y/n's ear infection has fucked her balance so when she gets up to pee, her body just tips off to the side and by some miracle her boyfriend's quick reflexes save her as he manages to grab her hand and yank her back onto the bed.

"Jesus. I think you dislocated my arm." Y/n winces while Lando shrugs.

"You were about to face plant and not save yourself. I had to do something." Lando states then sighing as he reaches over and frowns feeling her temperature has gone back up. "Are you hot or cold?"

"Cold. It's fucking baltic." Y/n groans making him laugh a little before he grins at her. "Can you help me to the toilet? I really have to pee and it's about to come out."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go." Lando nods rushing to help her and get her to the toilet. "I love you."

"I love you too." Y/n hums, her voice quieter than yesterday as Lando moves to get her antibiotics and some water for her to drink them with.

She stands up from the toilet flushing and moving to wash her hands before jumping when she feels Lando press up behind her, his body keeping her in place between her and the counter as he reaches around her to tap her chin making her mouth drop open before he tosses the pills into her mouth then holds the glass to her lips tipping it for her before she takes a couple sips. Careful not to drink too much and hurt her throat.

"Ok, baby. Rest and recovery. Your fever is back so...can we just try the cold cloth method rather than putting you into another shower?"

He might cope with humour but there's worry and concern about his girlfriend's welfare, she's usually so bright and energetic but she is visibly drained and the fever is taking it out of her.

"Yeah, that sounds fine..." Y/n murmurs but he can tell there's something else she didn't say.

"What is it baby?" Lando smiles softly then her shoulder as he continues to look at her through their reflection.

"I was just going to ask if you can stay with me today, but you have padel with-"

"I cancelled that before I got home yesterday baby. I'm not going anywhere. I promise you." Lando tsks making her smile brightly before she swallows thickly. "I'm not letting you out my sight again still I've got you back to full health."

So that's exactly what happens. Lando makes sure the cloth is constantly cold while y/n basically sleeps through the day. Though one thing that makes Lando practically melt is her fist clutching tightly onto the fabric of his shorts as she sleeps.

He kind of just sit on the bed with his laptop to game next to her, pausing and stopping every so often to check on her and wake her up just to make sure she's properly hydrated since the last thing he wants it for her to be feeling worse from not having enough water.

Her fever breaks again and this time Lando is determined to keep it that way, he wakes her up for the antibiotics too and gives her some painkillers when she complains about her ears hurting.

"Baby, do you want to have something to eat maybe?" Lando asks softly when he checks the time and notices how late it is.

"Yes, please." Y/n murmurs her voice still sounding pretty raw.

Y/n's fist is still tightly holding Lando's shorts leaving small creases, he actually captured a picture of it and shared it to his Instagram story because sometimes he does like to flex his bragging rights over having nabbed such a girlfriend that he's so taken by. Plus she's adorable so why would he not share just the photo of her hand grasping his shorts so tightly.

His followers know she's sick because they always manage to find things out no matter what. But he wanted to share that he is in fact being a very good boyfriend and spending his days off taking care of her.

"Soup?"

"Yeah, soup." she nods earning a grin before he leans over to kiss the top of her head softly.

"You stay here, I'll be right back."

#f1 #fanfic #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #lando #norris #lando norris imagines #ln4 #mclaren f1 #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris fic #ln4 one shot #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 fluff #mclaren #ln4 x you #ln4 x y/n #fluff #mclaren racing

[senanatheskenana]

The Sinclair Twins With Baby Fever

This contains smut so minors do not engage thank you. Contains graphic depictions of sex/ sexual acts.

(Also i havent written smut in a while so im sorry if its bad lmao)

Bo Sinclair

Bo never thought he'd want kids.

He thought they were sort of like inconveniences from how his parents acted when they were kids.

But that idea slowly began to change after meeting you

For one, it takes two people to make one, and in a ghost town, there isn't an abundance of living women.

And Bo didn't really believe he would be a good parent.

However, it all flipped rather suddenly for Bo.

You had been showing him photos from an old vacation you went on with family and he stumbled across one of you and your niece.

A tiny one-year-old, in cute pink dungarees, all swaddled up in your arms with big blue eyes and one of her chunky hands in her mouth on an exploration.

Bo admitted that it was rather cute and you started to ramble about the times you've looked after family and children.

And it occurs to Bo that while he may not be wonderful with children, you certainly were.

The thought comes along all too suddenly for his liking and before he knows what he's doing, he's imagining you with your baby- his baby.

It makes his chest flutter, the image of your swollen belly and milk-filled chest burning into his eyes.

He tries to give it some serious thought, weighing up the pros and cons of such an important choice.

Bo of course brought it up to you. He wasn't going to just grin and bear the need he was now experiencing.

~~~~~

"Oh my god," you grin up at him. He scowls and huffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

"What? I don't see what the big deal is." he's still pouting and you have to admit he looks pretty cute like that, with blushy cheeks.

"Bo, you've got baby fever!" you giggle and him as he huffs again. 

Bo throws his arms up in the air and sighs. He knows he isn't going to win that battle. "Look did you want to have a baby or not, sugar?"

You give him a long drawn-out silence, leaving him in anticipation for what he deems to be far too long, however, he doesn't want to push his luck on the situation.

You finally give him a smile and a wink, "Of course I do, Bo." he fights back a smile and slinks closer to you to give you a peck on the cheek but lets out a chuckle when you pull him back again for a proper kiss.

He smirks and practically throws you into the bedroom, not wasting a moment to take off his shirt and throw it to the side. He tugs down his jeans and you both begin to shed clothing as fast as possible. You can hear the clink of your husband's belt hitting the floor over the sound of your loud heartbeat. He finally moves to slot himself between your thighs, grinding against your clothed heat.

Bo hasn't felt this nervous in a long time. Normally, sex is rough and teasing with Bo, but every little touch against him feels like fire and it has him moaning into your chest like a virgin. The image of your swollen belly ingrains itself into his mind again, and he feels himself becoming too needy to pace himself. Before he can fully grasp what he's doing, he's already rutting into you with quick deep thrusts. He doesn't bother pulling out and wasting time on long thrusts, choosing to just chase the pleasure you both want so badly.

Bo loves the way you look under him like this, eyes nearly closed and rolling back with your mouth agape from the breathless moans you're making after every rub of his cock against your g-spot. He can feel you tightening around him, and he honestly can't recall a better feeling than this. He can tell you're going to cum soon with how loud you are and how your hips try to chase his.

Bo slips a hand between you both and plants it on your folds. He'll be damned if he was going to cum this soon without you. You let out a moan that sounds like it was straight out of a porno, and Bo feels it travel like electricity down to his groin. You can feel him twitch deep inside you, kissing against your internal ridges. You're so tight that Bo can barely move without moaning like a bitch.  

He comes close to your face, watching your fucked out expression closely. His fingers speed up, deftly finding your clit and circling it like he's begging for you to cum around him. "'Gonna cum, sugar?" his southern drawl drags you out of your fever dream state and you nod up at him, failing to find words anymore. You grip his shoulders and you wrap your thighs around his waist. He laughs at the idea that you're stopping him from pulling out. You cum and he can feel you completely spasm around his cock. Bo knows he can't take another second of that intense pleasure before he's cumming so hard he's seeing coloured patches in his vision, moaning as he stills inside of you. Hot ropes of his cum spurt out into you, making you gasp from the new feeling.

Bo nearly collapses on top of you after, head laying on your comfortable chest while your fingers rake through his wet hair. He can't bring himself to pull out of you just yet, and he's still breathless from finishing inside you for the first time. He can feel your thighs rocking still with the aftershocks of the experience. He kisses your chest lightly and looks up at you.

"I love you, Sugar," he murmurs softly against your skin, "I love you so much."

You don't miss how one of his hands rubs gentle circles into your tummy.

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent's biggest problem is his lack of communication. He can't simply speak about how he's feeling most of the time.

If he could, you may have found out about this sooner.

Vincent has always been more tolerant of children than Bo was so he experienced this quite early on but didn't know how to approach you about it.

He was worried that you would think he was weird or that you wouldn't want kids and then leave him.

So for months, he suffered in silence, fighting the urge to paint your insides with himself, and fantasising about what life would be like if you had a baby.

He's touched himself to the thought of you swollen and glowing, and imagining it's you he's coming in before the reality sets in again and he feels disgusted with himself once more.

You've started to notice his hesitance in intimate moments and you finally confront him, asking if he doesn't think you're attractive anymore.

He moves his hand to different parts of the basement, all filled with paintings and sculptures of you. It was a stupid thing to ask, of course, he thought you were gorgeous.

~~~~~

So you finally ask him what the problem was, and why he was suddenly not willing to touch you.

Vincent is of course quiet. He, in all honesty, was trying to hold off sex because he didn't feel he could trust himself to pull out anymore. He was worried that the temptation would be too great and he wouldn't be able to help himself. He's not really sure how he can say that and not come off as a huge pervert.

So he just comes close to you and embraces you momentarily, before placing a hand on your abdomen. It's just barely present but you can feel the touch. Then he takes his hands and makes a cradling motion.

For a moment you're confused. What does he mean by 'baby'? until it clicks in your mind. Did Vincent think you were pregnant? Was that why he was being so careful?

"Vinny, sweetheart, I'm not pregnant you dont need to worry about hurting me or anything-" Before you can finish, Vincent shakes his head and begins to sign.

'I know he looks at you to make sure you're following him, 'I think that's the problem'

Some sort of realisation becomes apparent to you and you ask the question he's been wanting to ask for months.

"Do you... Want a baby?"

He waits a moment and then nods before looking down. He begins signing again but doesn't look up, he doesn't want to see your grossed-out face.

'I was scared to force something on you but I wasn't sure how to say it. I didn't think I could trust my body during sex anymore.'

Your heart swells a little bit at the confession. Had Vincent been beating himself up for wanting to get you pregnant?

"I think I want a baby too, Vince" you giggle when his head shoots up from looking down at the floor. He signs too quickly for you to follow but you can just about catch the words 'Angel' and 'love'.

He stops signing and abruptly picks you up, spinning you before holding you bridal style in his arms. He hasn't said but you have an idea of where he's taking you. Vincent kicks the door to your shared bedroom open and gently places you on the covers. He removes his own clothing- save for his mask- and then patiently removes your own, kissing the skin that is revealed. 

Usually, Vincent gets quite needy during these moments, and his touch is feverish. He's painfully hard at this point, but he wants to savour you. He doesn't want to lose himself just yet. 

You're the one who removes his mask, taking in his flushed face and pulling him closer for a kiss. He can't begin to describe how much he loves you at this moment. He puts little weight on you as he traps you on the bed between his arms. 

You make a noise of surprise when he pulls back from you to lean on his feet. You're about to ask what he's doing but he's already sliding down your body to slot his head between your thighs. He gives the left of a small nip before kissing it again. Your core floods with anticipation when he gazes up at you like that. He waits for you to push his face closer to your folds to make sure you're okay. As soon as you do, he pushes his whole face against you, breathing you in and flattening his large tongue against your pussy. He lets out a raspy moan before he truly begins to lick. You know what's coming and the anticipation makes your thighs shudder around his head. 

He looks up through his hair to see you throw your head back in pleasure. He's always loved how you look like this, with his head between your thighs and your hands in his hair. The sight is so hot that he knows he could probably finish from it alone. 

Your breath hitches when you feel his hand travel from your hip to your folds. He uses his hand to part them before he gives a few kitten licks to your clit. His own eyes roll back as you spasm, and he continues that motion, fingers sliding into your wet core. He moves his two fingers slow and deep inside you, crooking them upwards halfway through each languid thrust. And just like that he can feel you tightening on his fingers with each lick and movement. Your moans get louder but he continues, spurred on by the look of pleasure you give him.

Your hips rut against his face and he moans against your clit, taking it into his mouth and sucking it. Just like that his fingers bring you over the edge, moaning and shaking as you wrap your legs around his face. Vincent removes his fingers and pushes his face into you again, licking up your juice before rising once more to be above you. You still look fucked out and he takes pride it in. You pull him in and kiss him deeply.

Vincent's hands travel down your thighs and stop at your knees. You briefly wonder what he's doing before he pushes them up and pins your legs against your chest. He's never tried this angle before.

But he likes it. A lot. 

You can see from his expression that he's enjoying the view and briefly his eyes flicker between you and a sketchbook. You grab his face gently and make him look at you.

"You can draw later. Right now I want you to fuck me, Vincent" 

His one good eye widens as if to say 'Yes ma'am' and before you know it, he's slotting himself into you, using his body weight to keep your legs pinned against your chest. Already he's so deep inside you that he's pushing against your sweet spot without trying. Vincent takes a moment to gather himself- he doesn't think he's ever been this deep inside you and suddenly he loves this position even more. He begins to roll his hips against you slowly, teasingly. He knows you want more so he begins to move, throwing a fair amount of his body weight into each deep thrust. Vincent can hear your breathless moan with each slap of his hips against your backside. He leans down on his strong left arm and uses his right to fondle your bouncing chest, making eye contact with you. It's your half-lidded hazy expression that makes his heart hammer in his chest. Vincent mouths the words 'I love you' and 'so pretty' over and over like a chant.

He's sure you can feel every little twitch and pulse of his cock with how tight you are around him. Fuck, he thinks, you feel so good. He's missed your pretty cunt so much and he's certain you've realised by how desperate his movement is becoming- degrading from measured, long, strong thrusts to irregular, quick jabs accompanied by crackly whimpers of pleasure. He's worried that he'll cum first now so he pulls his hand from your chest and pushes it between your folds to play with your clit.

A low, fractured murmur of "G-Gon' cu-um" falls from his open mouth and you're shocked for a moment.

Vincent stills against you and you feel your insides flood with warmth. The feeling along with his fingers still rubbing you tenderly, makes your own orgasm wash over you and he moans again as your pussy sucks him in further. He waits until you both finish before slowly pulling out of you, globs of excess cum seeping out of you. He uses his fingers to scoop the leaking cum up and fingers it back inside of you, humming when he sees that it isn't leaking anymore.

"I love you, Vinny," he looks at you and smiles, placing a pillow under your hips. He comes back to you with a flannel and washes the sweat from you and places a kiss on your forehead. Vincent lays beside you on the bed, placing his head against your chest and running his palm over the soft part of your tummy. 

#xreader #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax 2005 #house of wax x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #slasher x reader #slashers #slasher fucker

[mxlktxa]

shameless plug, tlou masterlist - quick reads/rambles

𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘭𝘢𝘸𝘴; @jinxtheplanet @solaceocean

an; just to have a little something something while i work on two something somethings ;)

“abby, no! that is raw cookie dough, stop fucking eating it!”

“its so good though!”

“youre gonna get sick, you big dummy! do you know how serious salmonella is?!”

“not serious enough to stop me!”

“abigail-fucking-anderson!”

you chased after the huge set of muscles, throwing a spoon at her as she ran off with a bit more of the cookie dough from the mixing bowl. the bowl you were trying to hide from her to bake her some of your delicious vanilla sugar cookies alongside a large coconut cream pie, abbys favorite treat you make for the anniversary you both loved to celebrate. the blonde managed to sneak into the house while you were preoccupied with your phone and began scooping small servings of the raw mixture into her mouth.

“abby, seriously, stop it! you’re gonna get sick!” you began to soften your voice, too worried to be angry any longer, “i dont want you to be in the hospital for this, abs. its so stupid.”

abby turned to you as her smile faltered due to your behavior change, “hey, baby look, im sorry, okay. i couldnt help myself. i love when you make those sugar cookies,” both hands were on the sides of your face, kissing your forehead, “and that coconut pie? dont even get me started. oh! and your muffins and sweet bread are heaven sent.”

you giggled, hiding your smile as abby seemed to be going nuts over your baking skills. soon you both calmed down, now settling for a nice hug to give you comfort. abby placed plenty of apologetic kisses on your head, swaying you back and forth.

“i give it six hours before a fever starts to kick it.”

“huh?” the dirty blonde questioned.

“then youll shit yourself because youve got diarrhea, possibly start vomiting.”

“wait, what?!”

“youll be in pain as well. just some abdominal pain, of course,” you turned away from abby, leaving her to silently panic at what you just said, “im just fucking with you but it is gonna be bad. now, stop eating anything thats raw.” you sighed, walking back to the kitchen to start prepping the baking sheet.

“does that include you?” abby questioned, a small smirk on her face.

the comment flew over your head as you placed your focus on the task at hand. slowly your brain started obsessing with what she said, piecing together what she meant. your head slowly rose, eyes filled with annoyance while abby held back a chuckle, “you slut! stop being so nasty!” and with that you threw the whisk at her, having to chase her down once more since she started eating the remains of the raw mixture from the tool.

#𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 ⋆˚✿˖° #the last of us #the last of us p2 #tlou2 #tlou #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic #abby anderson x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson imagine #the last of us abby #abby anderson imagines #abby x reader #abby the last of us #abby anderson #abby x you #abby tlou #tlou abby #abby anderson tlou2 #abigail anderson #tlou part 2 #tlou fanfic #tlou imagine #quick read #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson the last of us #abby anderson x f!reader

[levmada]

Hey how are you feeling?

Im glad your requests are still open. Loved the answer to my last request so I hope you don’t mind me sending in another one?

Some cute hurt/comfort with taller gn reader and postwar Levi. After the ackermanbond is gone I imagine Levi getting really sick for the very first time. Fever and everything also adding the flashbacks to when his mom got sick. And reader ofc nursing him back to health and also comforting him 🧡

im so so so so so so SO sorry😭i took literal months with this sari... i wish i had a good excuse, but i hope you like this :(

i took a lot of inspo from this eruri fic from ao3. stress cannn cause flu-like symptoms, and i wanted this to be the outcome of all those years of suffering for levi finally catching up to him.

probably not medically accurate: it's not very clear what the nature of levi's knee injury. it's seen partially crushed, but it's not clear what medical technology marley has (especially w/ the last volume cover in mind). i'm functioning on my idea that levi can't get around without a wheelchair, but he does have range of motion, partly based on the health of the cartilage/joints/bone, but mostly based how painful it is. it's more complicated than that, but i wanted to add a disclaimer anyway.

(tldr this is the levi torture hour)

➥ pairing: postwar!Levi x taller!gn!reader

➥ about: Not even Levi is invulnerable, both after the war and back then, so it's stupid to be scared when he gets sick.

Until it isn't.

➥ c/w: sick fic, post-war Levi, delirium/nightmares, reverse hurt comfort, implied past csa, happy ending (promise), medical inaccuracies, nightmares, established relationship (married)

➥ wc: 5.3k

In the comfortable, quiet rays of mid-morning, you hum to yourself, and sip your mug of tea. You watch a white cardinal with red tips toddle on the windowsill on the other side of the glass. That’s rare.

It takes off.

You trace the rim of your mug, sighing slowly but heavily through your nose. It’s getting harder not to think about it.

You want to think that—now that you and Levi are retired (what an odd word…)—it’s reached that natural time to start sleeping better. Sleeping in, not out of an absurdly rare indulgence, but to relax.

It’s been nine months, not counting the few Levi was cooped-up in the hospital.

Even for him, relaxation shouldn’t be impossible after some point. In fact, he hasn’t shot awake just before dawn for a while, anticipating a reveille that won’t ring out.

But you fought beside him; your bad habits and your happiness wrestle over the reality of your new life too.

But…

You reach across the small wood table and hover your hand over the cup of tea you poured for him; decent, but not piping hot and steaming like earlier.

This will be a once in a lifetime opportunity: you get to coax Levi out of bed late in the morning.

You stand, bringing your arms behind your head to stretch just a little as you walk to the hall, down to the bedroom. The door is cracked like you left it.

Like a tired waterfall, the vast majority of the thick covers lay spilled haphazardly to the floor, so you’re surprised even before you take a look at Levi, who’s still curled up asleep, facing your way. That leaves his back to the light glowing through the curtains.

He kicked them off?

Like the sheets, his sweater is white; his trousers are dark, loose and cut (with his knee brace on underneath). With his arms tightly crossed like that, and the harsh crease sitting on his brow, he almost looks awake and stressed out.

“G’morning, ‘Vi…”

Importantly, his pallor, normally as pale as snow, glows pink. A few strands of black cling to his forehead.

You stride over with a bit of a frown that wasn’t as deep when you were feeling just plain impatient, and take a sit on the edge of the bed.

“Are you feeling sick, baby…?”

That crease deepens. He twitches awake. "M-Mm?"

Now that you’re close, you notice his breathing is a little labored. You touch your knuckles to his temple. Eyes barely crack open.

"Sweetheart, ‘Vi… You definitely have a fever..."

You comb his bangs off his damp forehead, and they close.

The heat radiating off his skin—you grimace a little.

Actually... have you ever seen Levi so much as under the weather? You can’t even remember.

He shifts slightly, as your strokes rouse him.

"Do you feel sick?" you ask for the second time.

"Huh? I'm fine..."

His eyes finally blink open, fluttering once or twice. But then, a shadow passes over his face that seems to disprove that assertion of his.

He shoves his elbow underneath himself and starts to lift himself up. "Stop—fretting. 'm fine."

He gets most of the way; he’s resting heavily on one arm when he grunts, then leans.

"Stop, sweetheart," you huff, and take him by the shoulder. "What hurts? Your head?"

Looking dazed, like he’s not all there, he lifts his bad hand to his temple and, with his ring and little finger, feels his temple.

“Don’t know…”

"Lay back down, you clearly need some rest—even if this is rare for you, okay?"

“What?” He looks perturbed with you. “Don’t be stupid. There’s too much t’do. N’ I’m fine,” he grumbles, blatantly lying.

"Levi..." you warn.

"I'm just... tired," he mumbles. He rubs his eye with his thumb. "Fuck. Fucking tired."

His strength starts to evaporate as his eyes slip closed.

In an instant—before he collapses—you thrust your arms around him, and lay him back down on his side slowly.

It doesn’t quite hit you until you maneuver his arm out from under him, and listen to his even but labored breathing for a bit of time.

You stare down, eyes wide. Are you scared?—Or anxious?

Well either way—it’s not until you stopped being at risk for a violent death day-in and day-out for years that you even realized you were constantly anxious.

It’s not a nice feeling.

It’s okay. Though. You rationalize. Not even Levi is impervious to everything, and certainly not now. It’s stupid to be surprised.

You feel his forehead with the back of your hand one more time, and kiss your teeth. Definitely a fever, but an exact number wouldn’t hurt.

The thermometer and other simple medicines are shoved in one of the high kitchen cabinets, a second thought when you both moved into this quaint little cabin in the woods (aside from his prescriptions). You didn’t even say it out loud, even. 

Now pinched between your fingers, you stand back and stutter on your feet, unsure of what else you need. You want to need something more helpful, but the need to go and check back on him is most powerful. 

A short ways down the hall, you pick up on the unbelievable yet unmistakable sound of… crying. Unrestrained, and yet, the kind of crying that steals breath. 

You expect to wake up as soon as you reach the bedroom—some disturbing but absurd dream.

But you don’t. He’s curled up where you left him, eyes closed but now gasping sharply through his teeth with tears glistening on his cheeks. One drips off his trembling chin.

You drop onto the edge of the bed immediately, and try to speak, but find yourself helplessly stuck at a complete loss as to where to even start.

“Why…” You card your fingers through his hair, to no reaction. He must be asleep, right?—But how, why?

“Hey, hey, c’mere,” you coo gently, sitting so as to swaddle his back and caress his head.

You make it all not sound like a question. “Everything’s okay. It’s okay, sweetheart… Wake up.”

His eyes tightly shut, and tears squeeze through. He croaks. “Can wake up.”

It takes a moment for you to register that he really meant to pronounce it as “can’t”.

“…You sound sorta freaked out, and you want to talk to Falco?—Is Levi alright??”

You silently curse Gabi for being so observant.

“Which place? I have the books, um, right here…!”

“No…” You swallow a little, and coil the bright red cord to the phone around and around your finger. You wish it was as simple as some tinnitus, or nerve pain. 

“No?” Gabi asks on a high lilt; a question within a question.

“I know. He never gets sick, which is why I want to talk to Falco. I appreciate you trying to help, but please hurry?”

“Oh yeah, okay!”

You peer over your shoulder from your place stood in the hall and rock on your heels nervously. The only space of time you could find where you could bear to leave him was when he was quiet.

Falco has matured so much, even over the past year, and you trust him with this. He’s training to be a doctor; being a soldier never suited him much anyway. Levi was the first to say so, as usual the perfect judge of character. 

You speak slowly and calmly to him, encouraged by his own composure.

“It sounds like a flu, just with that added symptom,” he’s thinking out loud. Thin pages turn. “Severe stress can cause flu-like symptoms sometimes… Especially when it’s prolonged. Does that sound like anything?” 

 “No. No way.” You shake your head, your brow pinched tightly. In fact you laugh. “Haven’t fought any Titans lately, at least.”

His voice lowers, thinking as he talks. “True, yeah. Especially for you guys, nothing could ever really compare, right?”

“You have no idea. Not with Levi.”

“We can talk about it another time, maybe,” you amend quickly. You know almost for certain that’s not going to happen.

Falco hums. “Anyway, if that’s the case, that would explain why it’s been so severe, with the sudden onset. But think of it like a fever he needs to sweat out,” he explains.

“Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You hear the light smile in his voice. “Don’t be too far away, though. It’s easy to tell, you know.”

You smile to yourself.

Even if the Rumbling somehow started back up above your head, you’d rather die. 

You write on a little notepad—some scrawl verbatim—Falco’s directions and words of advice, the phone trapped between your ear and shoulder. Most of it is generic, for influenza of course, but you write. 

A blunt but dense thump sounds not so far away. You even flinch, but just as quickly let Falco know you’ll be right back.

In the bedroom, the pale blue duvet and sheets spilled onto the floor looks like a stiff waterfall being wrenched this way and that by Levi’s attempts to sit back up, like a puppet trying to pull its own strings. He grunts in what sounds like frustration, but you can’t know for sure as his bangs obscure his eyes. His hair all over is a downright wreck.

Gaping, you fall down beside him and hurry working off all the offending fabrics he’s twisted in. 

“Lee—…”

Your help lets his shaky hand hover over his knee, like he can’t be sure if it’s his. He’s breathing hard; it’s ten times shakier than his hand.

“Come here.”

He doesn’t so much as twitch, but he doesn’t resist either. Then, when something in him registers that you’re there, he leans into you like you’ve just brought the weight of the world off his shoulders. 

You tug the soft pantleg up, and sigh at what you see. The scarring, like a row of pink and purple mountains stabbed into his flesh, is more inflamed than usual, leg minutely trembling when you raise it.

He must’ve tried to stand up.

“Does it hurt very bad?”

Not even such an obvious question gets you a retort of any kind. He whines softly when you have to brace that area to lift him back up, but no more.

From the dull darkened blue cotton in the shape of a V in the center of his chest, and coming down from his underarms, he’s burning up; you need to get started just as soon as you’re finished with Falco. For now, you wipe his clammy temples and brush his bangs back. He’s looking at you, but he doesn’t seem to see.

“Levi…” You press on his round cheeks under your palms, grimacing at the heat pelting off his skin.

He moans softly, some relief softening his features. “Huh. Take m’jack-et. Yer cold.”

You shake your head even though he can’t see, as, sharply and without warning, tears appear and stab at your eyes. He’s not even wearing a jacket. 

“Be right back,” you manage. “Okay?”

You don’t really expect a response, and you don’t get one.

First thing’s first, he needs water. You feel stupid not thinking of that first. That was at the top of Falco’s directions. 

You catch Levi in a moment of relative quiet—not peace, but quiet—and cradle the back of his neck, unhinging his jaw with your other. Easy enough. You tip the glass and feed him water with the utmost care and precision. This is some act terribly intimate, a type of intimacy removed from hand-holding or sex entirely while managing to rank above them both. Over all these years, his life has been in your hands a few times, but feeding him pills—something for the fever and something for the pain—and working his shirt off for something fresh and loose-fitting feels more reverent even still. You put him in shorts and practically fortify his knee with a brace and pillows wrapped up with the belt of a housecoat so even if he rolls over, he won’t.

He chokes on a sob while you’re tucking a cold press behind his neck, forcing you to stop. His eyes squeeze shut.

“Levi?” you ask softly.

Either he’s having a nightmare, or he’s in pain, or, both. He tightens his crossed arms. His first movement in hours.

“What hurts? Falco said it might be your head.”

Another sob bursts from him. “S’head’s all over the wall, looked, it… sorry….”

He continues mumbling, but none of it sounds like words. 

"Levi, it's okay, it's okay. Okay, baby? S'okay," you murmur; on and on. The washcloth has gotten smushed between his shoulder and the pillow—you set that somewhere aside. Then you lean over, rubbing with your thumbs the tears off his glistening cheeks, and messy black strands off his forehead.

Sometimes you will catch a word, sometimes you won’t. You will almost wish you didn’t the times you do. Yet you feel sworn to make sense of every mumble, a pervasive, unbreakable, urge. You’re sworn to it.

That’s how the rest of the day goes. He’s never lucid enough to eat; only enough to mumble when he’s freezing, or when he’s burning.

After dusk has bled into the sunset, and night has set in, you sit and watch over Levi religiously. To be fair, you don’t have anything “better to do”, but you hardly ate. If he knew, he’d be in your ear grumbling or otherwise dragging you by it to the kitchen, but does it matter, when he can’t know?

No, you decided, with some fucked-up determination. You want him to bitch at you when he wakes up. Not shivering trapped in an uneasy sleep.

When it gets late, you, arduously but carefully, do what you can for his knee.. He moves too much.

You wipe his face and neck of sweat, and lay a fresh, ice-cold and wet folded washcloth on his forehead. The fever is slowly getting worse.

You dote on him, carding back his bangs, and murmuring and repeating all manners of comfort you can think of. It’s becoming obvious when he’s having a nightmare.

…Finally, as Falco suggested, you’ve kept him hydrated; fever reducers every few hours. 

All that's left to do then, is sleep. This realization makes you nauseous with worry.

Nonetheless, you squirm under the covers on your side, close beside him with your face tucked in his shoulder. You take a slow, deep breath. 

It’s so discomforting; Levi can’t fall asleep flat on his back, ever, and yet…

Your head shoots off his chest before you’ve registered you even woke up—gasping, and a guttural cry from below. It’s pitch black, too dark to see.

That explodes him into motion. He repels you backwards as you grapple for his shoulders, and like fists closed around your throat, as he resists your every attempt to stop him hurting himself, as he whimpers tiredly, as his bawling stabs the most tender place inside you—you feel sick.

“Levi—! Stop. Levi listen to me!”

You’re louder than him, but nothing—his eyes won't open—and your stomach swoops just then as he almost succeeds in jabbing his knee in your stomach, an extra hard punch combined with the brace. That cry is a sob of nothing but pain.

Enough. Finally you bite the bullet, you drop your full weight down on top of him, if it means he’ll finally stop. 

At first, you’re as steady as a boat on rough waters. A huff of relief slips out when his writhing grows sluggish, quickly.

He squirms mildly under you, breathing still stubbornly labored. “Get… off me.”

He tries to raise his arms from his sides, but can’t. 

“I’ll, fuckin’ kill you.”

You viciously shake your head. “It’s just a dream.”

Are you telling only him that?

“S’ get off, you can’t, s’nough hurts ‘er.”

“L-Lee…”

You strain to make him out, as he sobs weakly. “Leave me alone already...”

His name escapes you over again like a prayer in the heat of a battle. Your determination crumbles right into dust; you fall beside him and sit up, unsure of what to do besides take his hand. You can’t bring yourself to switch on the lamp.

“It’s going to be okay.” You squeeze.

He whimpers. “…Please.”

You can’t open your foolish mouth and tell him or yourself that it’s just a dream anymore.

Falco was more correct than you gave him credit for.

Falco also warned you that it would get worse before it got better.

With the hours that keep passing—which have stretched out into two days so far—he more and more mutters in his sleep, other times under his breath, but most times he’s incoherent.

But, it’s all come to fall under one topic. 

And just like that first night, it doesn’t quite make sense, but it doesn’t have to. 

You don’t want to think about it; you just want to take care of him. Your anxiety is constant, and sharp. If only he’d wake up; you talk to him as if he’s awake—but to no response whatsoever, like you don’t even exist.

Moments you’re forced to leave him are the worst—for you and for him. Most times when you come back, the washcloth meant to rest on his forehead has drooped and sagged beside his temple.

At any rate, the difference between fever and tears has gotten hard to tell.

You just can’t stop from shaking, and your throat is tight, but Falco remains adamant that the flu is what he said it is. 

A lamp is still glowing on your side in the late night. The air is cool, and it’s quiet, but a rare moment of “peace” makes the sounds of your shared breaths obnoxious.

Your heavy eyes sting; despite that, when they creep closed you feel yourself fading in seconds, with Levi’s head tucked under your chin, upon your chest. Seemingly, any covers are too stifling for him at the moment; pressed against your collarbones, you feel his forehead is hot again. 

You cradle gently the nape of his neck, idly rubbing the knot of bone at the base of his jaw. As if you’re doing anything to protect him from anything…

He mumbles, slurring, “Y’have t’come back…”

You’re not dizzy with the shock or the horror, but it’s worse almost, to be confronted with the full magnitude of a rueless, unceasing pain that is just as lonely in its magnitude as it is devastating.

You rub his back as he buries his face in your neck, sobbing like it takes all his energy to do so. “I’ll be faster.”

“I don’ know where t’go, what do I do now?” he babbles over your soft hushes. “Wait, next time I’ll get it right...”

“It’s okay, love, it’s okay.”

“I don’ know why I even…” 

Trailing off, he starts to whimper, and can’t go on. 

He doesn’t stop, it doesn’t, not for a second while—all you can do—is hold and console him even though he may not know it.

Until he exhausts himself. Drifts. into a light sleep.

For it to happen all over again. Seeping into his sleep like crude oil, the next stress-induced terror to force his breathing shaky, labored.

"...Need," he whimpers, the first word you’ve made out in a while.

Your stomach swoops, the thought that you can do anything to help directly. "What do you need, sweetheart?"

"Don't sell it. Don't sell it, I need it."

You deflate, jaw wobbling. "Sh, sh, it's okay,” you soothe. You reach for the tray on the bedside behind you, and, using the cold cloth, you dab the sweat from his blushing temple and neck.

"S'gonna take away from m...me." He starts to pant, continuing to mumble, crying, a complete melting away. Lamenting, abject.

"Shh... Shh..."

His arm loosely draped around your waist—which you’d put there—tightens its hold, but in drifting bursts, like he keeps slipping.

“Please.”

You inhale sharply. "Please?"

"Don'. Leave me."

"I won't leave," you swiftly promise. "I won't leave, I won’t.”

He cries in his sleep for so many names that aren’t alive anymore.

Don’t go. Don’t go.

Wake up, Momma.

Wait... Just wait.

That wasn’t the worst point. Not even hunched, taken-over by so much stress and pain until he gagged was the worst point. None of what he had already said combined could amount to the last night.

You snap awake on your stomach at some blurry unknown instance, acutely aware you’ve slept like shit.

Did you even, only blink?—No. The most faintest shade of grey weakly gives your bedroom the suggestion of texture and shadow, but—your arms are empty. You reach over blindly, but the side where Levi should lay is empty and cold.

A pit bursts open in your stomach, filled with bright panic. 

You lurch up and shove off the covers, breathing hard. 

Where could he be??

If he was feeling better, then you would've woken up a while ago, because he would've told you. Not just... 

He can’t be far.

You shiver. 

On your feet, you cross the room in a few strides, and frown as you pull open the bedroom door. It's never left closed at night this time of year; it gets about ten degrees colder without the insulation. (But the chill pressing to the bottoms of your feet, you barely even noticed.)

"Levi!?"

The switch on the wall is right within reach, which lights up the hall. You look right and almost jump back; you might’ve tripped over him if you hadn’t looked first.

He sits hugging his legs—tightly folded against his chest, Levi, why?—there right outside the white doorframe. Shivering, glossy face red with fever, and most certainly in agony by now with all the abuse done to his knee, you’re not sure if he even notices you. Not from this angle.

You fall down on your knees. “Levi? Look, I’m here. Talk to me, please, okay?”

His bloodshot eyes are cracked open, staring ahead, but seemingly seeing nothing. Between the tears, you can’t tell if this is good or bad. 

"Levi..." You take his shoulder in an attempt to nudge his attention towards you. “Look at me. Please.”

He was already tense. His head turns, mostly looking at you sideways—emphasis on his pale eye—but looking at you nonetheless. Good.

"What's wrong?"

His brow knits together.

“C’mere.” You lean forward and card his damp bangs back to feel his forehead. The whole time, he just looks at you passively.

“Better... But this cold won’t help in the end. Medicine is in the bedroom, so...”

You huff very softly to yourself. “…You need more bedrest. I don’t know why you even came out here. Why didn’t you wake me up?”

He blinks.

“Let’s go back to bed,” you insist then, under your breath. 

Some clarity crosses his dark eyes, his voice then a cracked brittle rasp.  “…Not the bed.” 

His gaze sort of drifts away from you. 

You thought he was through with that habit. Confused, you ask, “Why not?”

“It’s ruined. It was always disgusting, but… this is worse.”

“I’ll change the sheets then. I know, it’s not—”

“You can’t do anything,” he says, tucking his chin to his chest, intent eyes focused somewhere down. “Corpse smell doesn’t come outta anything, it just smells worse the longer you leave it. It gets colder n’ heavier, then the smell, it attracts bugs. There’s a fluid,” he says quietly. Casually. “And then it shrinks. Getting eaten’s all the same. But I think that way’s worse.”

What can you even say to that?

“I won’t do th-at to you…” His brow furrows sharply, gripping his sleeves—you see now—with bright white knuckles. Even sitting up, he’s almost curled up into a ball.

You talk quickly, before the full gravity of all this can reach you. 

“You won’t do anything,” you insist. “How about the sofa? Would the sofa be okay?”

“I can’ go to sleep,” he hisses. “I won’t wake up.”

“That’s not true. Why do you even say that??"

"I'm sick."

"Yeah, but it’s not bad-sick!”

You regret the moment you raise your voice. That almost innocent passivity he exuded is crushed by complete and utter detachment. 

“…Denial doesn't help. Don’t be stupid. Don't even—shouldn’ touch me. It’ll end worse fer you.”

You tremble minutely, stewing in silence while in panicked, rapid-fire fashion, you rifle through explanations. He sounds so serious. And he's nothing but.

You know that Levi’s mother died from sickness. He’s called out for her, a lot.

In nightmares… A nightmare?

You guess that’s where it all started for him, as he always slips into a warm voice and delicate eyes those rare moments he does tell you about her. Being sick then, being sick with you here… It all clicks into place.

Okay. Fuck…

The real monster of it all is the fever—making him unglued like this.

You rub the bridge of your nose, swallowing thickly. Okay. 

A firm calm settles over you; for once, Levi is scared. That means you won’t be.

“Levi…” you console.

You reach out to his shoulder, only to flinch when he flinches before a push knocks into your chest. It sends you falling into your backside with an injured grunt.

Instantly, intrinsically, you know it’s going to bruise; all his strength, one hand.

Your eyes pop open to his own—uncannily—wide with his lips twisting into a grimace. 

Putting his eyes ahead again, he sucks in a choked breath and slumps. “Sorry, I thought you were… Sorry.” He gasps. “I’m sorry.”

You get back up on your knees, slowly, and settle down beside him without hesitation. You’re more frantic than ever to close this icy chasm-like space.

“It’s okay.”

He shakes his head as sharp and as fast as his rattling breaths. “I thought you were him. I don’t get it… it just kept hap-happening… Fucking…”

You see him still searching for the words to explain.

“It’s okay. It’s all okay.” 

The warmth in your voice is genuine. When it shakes, you just hate that he’s suffering with nothing you can do to lift it all away, like blood by steam. 

He grips his hair, having made himself as small as possible again. “I’m—s-sorry.”

“Shh…”

Slowly until now, you’ve been leaning in, and now you firmly rest your hand on his back, rubbing in long, consoling motions. This seems to help.

You stay like this while his breathing shudders through tears. It’ll only hurt you both to bring force into it again; either way, any way, it’s not his fault. You don’t know what he meant… but why would it be the man who came and chose to look after him?

“Sorry…”

Everything you see if one ruddy cheek and his temple glistens with either tears or sweat, and his eyes look painful.

“Look at me. Baby.”

An order seems familiar. He does.

“You trust me, don’t you?”

He understands slowly, but you know the answer. After a time, he blinks, and nods.

“Stay still, please.” You kiss his temple. 

“…Sure.”

One arm around his back, the other scooped under his knees, you lift him up into your arms with not too much difficulty. He goes tense, but leans into your chest nonetheless.

“It’s going to be okay,” you murmur as you walk. You want desperately to ask about his leg, but this feels too fragile, like if you bring up physical pain then the whims of the fever will take him back over. 

He’s trembling all over, it seems, before you lay him back down in bed, and once you do he clutches a bit of your blouse at the collar with a grip that confirms for you that he’s not letting go. You sit beside him with his waist pushed against the side of your thigh.

“I’m sorry, it’s all my fault,” he croaks out softly, staring at your sleeve which he now grips. “I wasn’t fast ‘nuff. I hesitated n’ it got ‘em killed for nothing after made the same mistake… Sorry i-was my damn pride…”

You let him talk, rather mumble. When there’s a lull, you rest your palms on his hot cheeks. Better than the last time you felt them. His eyes instantly flutter in relief.

It’s surprisingly easy to give him water, then the fever reducer. Meanwhile, he’s clearly fighting the weight of exhaustion pressing down on his eyelids.

“Don’t make me sleep…”

“I’m not. I’ll just stay by your side. Then”—you cup his cheek—“I’ll do it again.”

He hardly grunts, eyes closing.

You won’t sleep, and you can’t sleep (if there’s even a difference). In fact, you’ll bring in one of the kitchen chairs and sit by him with a novel; you’ll read by candlelight, with a handkerchief hanging like a tarp from the lampshade so maybe he can rest easy.

Being that the flu is a release of stress… He’s getting better. He’s getting better.

Hour-by-hour, more or less (but mostly less), you snap awake at the tiniest stirring from your husband beside you. Maybe mumbling a ghostly snatch of a word; mostly sniffling. It takes you half an hour to drift off again.

This unforgiving cycle obnoxiously persists until morning sunlight poking your sleeping mind wakes you. Suddenly, again. You see him.

It’s a mystery, how long, but Levi is gazing at you softly with bloodshot, but, maybe aware eye. You feel better when he glances away, like every time—if, not when—you catch him staring. Your legs are tangled slightly, his slow breaths brush your cheek.

"Baby," you murmur. "You’re awake?”

He looks annoyed. “No, I’m sleeping with my eyes open.”

“How do you feel? Be honest," you quickly add. You drape your arm around his waist.

He frowns at your tone. "...Like my head got hit with a sledgehammer.”

You say nothing.

His voice gets softer and gentler. “I don’t remember… And you look like shit. What happened?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“…So I’m going to be wrong,” he surmises, looking away. “I slept in too late.” 

He goes to rub his eye, and sniffs. The distress marring his expression grows. 

“It’s been a couple days, but it’s alright,” you say. You’re quick to explain as the realization seems to come over Levi that he hasn’t had a proper bath in that length of time.

Though, it’s hard to explain. It’s even harder to wrap your mind around the fact that he doesn’t remember how he’d cried, and—insinuated, what he did. What horrors he spoke of. 

You finish. Behind a thinly-veiled straight face, he stares into your eyes with the quiet accusation that you haven’t told the whole story. 

“It… was… bad,” you bear to admit. “That’s why I look like shit.”

The self-loathing that falls over his expression like a deathly shroud is instant. He looks away, glaring at nothing, but before he can think anything, you squirm much closer, tighten your hold, and kiss his chin.

“It’s not your fault. And if I had to, I’d do it all over again. So don’t start.”

He watches you for a beat, as if searching for some exaggeration, but soon looks resigned to the truth in your vow. At this long-awaited point in your lives, with some legwork to say the least, you’re relieved to know you’ve finally got it beaten into his head that you love him, whether he agrees or not.

You watch him swallow, and many emotions cross his eyes as he mulls your words over. 

“I don’t like that it’s just a flash for me,” he resolves.

“I know. But we can… talk about it?”

Honestly you’re shocked the words left your mouth. Levi also stares at you like you just spoke a foreign language. It’s pathetic, as he would say, sure, but—people like you and him don’t just talk about things like that which fueled those nightmares of his.

He looks away, considering. Finally, he brings hand up to yours, nestled deep under the covers. Your fingers clasp gently, foreheads brushing. His silvery blue eyes calmly watch yours. That’s his answer.

It’s so different, and not so comfortable right now, but you believe, now, that’s okay.

Levi masterlist | main masterlist

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman x you #levi x you #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x y/n #levi ackerman oneshot #levi ackerman angst #aot oneshots #aot fanfiction #captain levi x reader #captain levi x you #captain levi fanfiction

[bumblinv]

Hi! Are your requests open? If they are I'm just gonna leave this here, Neteyam, Ao'nung, Lo'ak (sperate) x OmaticayaGnReader who is sick, like flu for the na'vi or something like that, they have a fever and the chills and everything could it also be fluffy and absolutely adorable

--- personal doctors ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

neteyam, ao'nung, rotxo (seperated) x gn!metkayina!reader

you catch a cold, its time for your lover to take care of you

a/n ; im not good at writing lo’ak, so i bring you rotxo instead! i hope you dont mind<3

: ̗̀➛ neteyam

realizes your sickness even before you did

when you first sneeze or cough, his mind goes straight to the day before, recalling any peculiar food you've had

neteyam would notices too, when you pause between chores to massage your forehead

he will take over cleaning. making sure every corner is clean so you won't sneeze from the dust. he also makes sure you stay hydrated and even whips you up nutritious meals until your condition got better. usually, the fever never got up to you

but when it does, he goes in full momma mode

this man grows with 3 younger siblings, caring for someone is natural for him. he would stay by your side, whispering your name every few hours to wake you up, so he could feed and help you drink

neteyam might not be the best healer, like her sister, but he can make certain herb drinks

makes you ginger tea regularly to warm up your shivering body

you tend to get all sort of nightmares from your sickness, but dont worry, you’re waking up to neteyam since he’s cuddling you all night long. he will run his slender fingers through your hair, whispering comforting words to your ear

“everything’s okay, dear. i’m here” 

we all need neteyam in our lives:(

_

: ̗̀➛ ao'ung

acts like he doesn’t care, but the moment your temperature starts to rise, he brings his mother straight to you

the tsahik would probably do nothing. she tell him to go ask kiri for some herb tea, and to make sure you drink and eat well, since fevers could heal by itself

but mans stressed

would refuse to let you lift a single muscle. he will be the one helping you change, wipe your face to keep you fresh, feeding you

since he’s not the best cook, he would ask tsireya to make you soups, wich she happily does. she makes great food, but your tongue tastes sour and your appetite is no where to be found

so ao'nung scolds you

“quit acting like a baby and please, just eat” 

you know ao’nung. none of his scolding are anger, he’s just extremely worried.

watching you go to sleep after being scolded makes him feel like a villain. he would join you in bed and whispers an apology. gently bringing you closer to his chest as the both of you fall asleep

remember he's a worrier? it makes him act too much like a mom. he will insist on taking care of you, even when you're feeling better. will only stop until he's sure you're 100% healthy

ao'nung is a big softie

_

: ̗̀➛ rotxo 

most clueless compared to the other 2

pls dont be mad, its not his fault

something tells me he’s an only child, a one that rarely got sick too, so he doesn’t know anything about caring for ill people

rotxo might be confused, but he’s not an idiot

the moment he touches your forehead and realizes you're scorching hot, rotxo instinctively wraps a fluffy blanket around you. the man will make you drink a lot of water, and went off running to the sullys

“what the fuck?” 

“sorry lo'ak! its an emergency!”

he got home with omaticayan food wraps in hand. you’re too sick to say anything, so when he lifts your head to feed you, you don’t protest

the one thing that scares you the most is that his jokes completely disappears

all his stupid jokes, gone.

not in a bad way, this man is just so dedicated on you that he stops joking around. he cannot stand that you're feeling all sick and uncomfortable and wants you back to your healthy self

this man is so serious, even when he tried feeding you raw cloves of garlic

one time, he heard kiri saying that garlics are ‘good for boosting the immune system’ 

he’s not wrong😭😭😭

but kiri hits him on the head once she founds out

instead of feeding you raw garlic, she gives you a mix of aged garlic and honey as medicine such an asian mom move

he feels bad afterwards, would kiss your entire face despite your protest

the next day, you wake up feeling fresh. but your lover boys voice got so hoarse from sore throat and complains about his sore limbs

yes, he got your fever and yes, he never regret kissing you, even when you're sick

#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam x reader #aonung #aonung x reader #rotxo #rotxo x reader #sick reader

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Fever and Fainting

Pairings: Wandanat x R

Word count: 1.6K

Summary: being sick sucked a little less with your girlfriends.

TW: vomiting, fainting (i guess?), like one swear word

A/N this is my first fic so it might kinda suck sorry

You had spent the last five days looking after your old neighbours kid who was sick, so it was no surprise to you when you woke up feeling like your head was packed with sand. The headache you could deal with but the pit of nausea that seemed to only get worse had you throwing back the sheets and sprinting to the ensuite in a heartbeat. As your dinner from the night before made a reappearance you thanked whatever gods were out there Nat and Wanda had training early this morning and weren’t there to watch. As much as you loved them you had never once been sick whilst together. Sure Wanda had the flu a couple months back and Nat had been great but this was different. This wasn’t the flu, and frankly you didn’t know what it was yet. You flushed the toilet and wiped your mouth, wanting nothing more than to climb back into bed. Fixing your hair in the mirror you saw how pale you looked. Ghostly. Changing into Nat’s fluffy long pants and Wandas sweatshirt, and throwing on some makeup you walked down to the kitchen. Pulling your hands into the sleeves as a chill ran up your spine. Clint was sat in the kitchen as Wanda made breakfast Nat hovering nearby and stealing bacon.

The sound of your girls laughing made it an easy decision. You weren’t going to tell them. They looked so happy and they had just come back from a week long mission in Moscow and needed some time to relax. You’d taken a swig of anti-nausea meds that had tasted like dirt so you thought everything would be fine. Clearing your throat, the girls looked up. It had been a bad idea. Now along with the headache your throat hurt too. Smiling you gave them a hug dodging their kisses to your cheek, you missed they looks of surprise. You never avoided kisses. Once you sat down at the table your body seemed to suddenly gain mass. Your limbs now felt like dead weights and it was somehow getting colder. Suppressing a shiver, Wanda came over with a plate of bacon and toast, knowing your dislike for eggs. But after only a couple bites you went back into the kitchen to “get more”, but really you simply put back what you didn’t eat and left.

Wanda frowned at the slightly larger pile of food in the kitchen, her and Nat knew you were acting odd, but lying to them and not eating wasn’t something you did.

Your legs screamed at you as you walked back to the lift. When your eyes landed on your bed your legs seemed to not take no for an answer. Eyes rolling back in your head you didn’t hear the door open.

Walking into their shared room to find you halfway to the floor wasn’t something Nat had ever planned on. “Y/N!” She yelled, reaching you a second too late and having to watch you head connect with the floor. Nat rushed over pulling your unconscious body into her arms.

“Friday, alert Wanda that i need her now.”

“Right away Ms. Roman-off”

A second later Wanda appeared in the doorway.

“Nat you needed m- OMG what happened.” Wanda raced to Nat’s side who now had you clutched tightly to her.

“Im not sure she just passed out, I only got here in time to see her hit her head when she fell” Wanda tapped you cheek lightly in an attempt to brig you around.

“Y/n/n. Wake up sweetheart. Come on”

A muffled sound pulled you out of wherever you were. But as it came clearer so did the pain in your head which had increased ten fold. Groaning you made out the voice to be Wandas.

“Baby, are you ok” Wanda laid a hand on your cheek, only to sharply pull it back a moment later.

“Shit Nat she’s burning up.”

A moment later another hand placed on your cheek. Leaning into the cold touch you moaned slightly at the feeling. Too tired and sick to be embarrassed. Suddenly your eye flew open and you frantically tried to extract yourself from the assassins arms. Wandas eye went wide at your loud thoughts, quickly passing you a bin as what little breakfast you had tumbled into it. Nat’s hands drew back your hair as Wanda shushed you and traced patterns on your back. Tears slipped down you cheeks, you hated being sick. When you were done your head lolled, the girls quick to pull you back before you ended up in your own sick.

“Sweetheart can you hear me?” Wanda asked, you groaned in response, both girls too concerned to laugh, they exchanged looks of worry.

“I’ll take that as a yes” Nat smiled softly.

“Can you stand up baby we need to get your fever down.”

“Based off the pink medicine in the bin I’d say you knew you were sick already, didn’t you” Nat poked.

Wanda glared at her for a moment mouthing “not now” to her. You turned your face into Nat’s shoulder as she picked you up. Wanda already in the next room drawing a tepid bath. You were too tired to process what was happening and too sick to care, as they peeled off your clothes. Damp with your sweat. You half stood half leaned on the counter shaking violently as the girls watched the bath water fill up the tub. When Nat lowered you into the water, which felt freezing against you skin, you almost cried. Clinging to her they shushed you. Together they washed your skin free of the sweat, before wrapping you in a soft fluffy towel and dressing you in Nat and Wanda’s spare Pjs.

Nat carried you back to the bed as Wanda went off in search of a bucket.

“M’ s’rry” you mumbled, feeling slightly more lucid after the bath.

“Oh sweetheart” Wanda said walking back in. “You don’t need to be sorry.”

“You cant help being sick” Nat agreed. The two girls joining you on the bed. Nat ran her hands through your hair whilst Wanda traced shapes on your leg. Slowly you drifted off to sleep.

Only to be awoken a couple hours later in violent need of the bucket Wanda had set down by the bed. Crawling over the top of your girls legs, you hung off the edge of the bed as you threw up again into the bucket. Waking both girls up in the process. You found your hair being pulled back again. Nothing came up but bile, your stomach having rejected all food earlier. More tears fell as you finished, strong hands pulling you back up onto the bed. You sniffled snuggling into their embrace as they whispered sweet nothings in you ear.

“Oh sweet girl. Do you feel better now?” Wanda asked, sighing in relief at you little nod.

“Not going to go again?” Nat asked, sweeping you hair back from your eyes. You shook you head slightly as more tears fell. With the pad of her thumb Wanda brushed them away, as Nat peppered your cheek with kisses.

As you fell asleep again, the two girls shared a look. Normally you were never so quiet and needy, but then again they had never seen you sick before. Pulling you closer to them they spoke in hushed tones. Agreeing if you didn’t get better soon, especially after giving you meds they would take you to Bruce. It seemed you fever had broke but the vomiting hadn’t stopped. Each time they fed you food, soup or other light things it simply came back up around a half hour later. After almost two days Nat and Wanda carried you to Bruce’s lab. Your half asleep form clutched to Wanda’s chest, as you watched through half lidded eyes.

After running some tests Bruce confirmed a bad case of the stomach flu. Giving the girls some stronger meds and a sick bag for the trip back to your room. He gave you some meds and small nibble of food. As the meds were ones you couldn’t take on an empty stomach. You made it all the way to the lift before your eyes snapped open and you threw up on Wanda and yourself. Bursting into tears, Nat and Wanda shared a surprised look before reassuring you and telling you it was alright.

“Its ok sweet girl i know you didn’t mean to.” Wanda cooed brushed back your hair.

“Come on we’ll go back and you can both shower.” Nat smiled pulling Wanda and you down the hall.

After a shower the three of you were back in bed. The two girls verbally wrestling with you and begging you to have more to eat.

“Come on baby we’ll even let you choose the movie.” Wandas hands held the awful syrup you’d come to despise. Sighing deeply you opened your mouth allowing them to give you the medicine. After twenty minutes, the girls watched you sleep ready to give you a sick bag, not wanting a repeat of the lift situation. Chicago PD playing on the tv in the background. When a half hour passed and so did an hour they relaxed some. Keeping the sick bag by the bed if you needed it later. Snuggling up to you they held you close as you all fell asleep. That night you only woke up twice to be sick, both times your girls held you and comforted you until you were asleep again.

Over the next few days you slowly came good again. Back to your usual self, life in the compound returned to normal. Or as normal as it can be for a witch, an assassin and their girlfriend.

Master list

#wandanat #marvel #sicfic #fanficton #sickness #fever whump #the avengers #wanda maximoff #natasha romanov #natasha romaoff #wandanat x reader #sick reader #self insert #whump fic #fluff

[icarlyspanishsubtitles]

I got flu and need comfort soo how about reader getting sick while Quackity is in Mexico. I think he would be super worried and always calling to check on u.

Btw I loveed your last fic, you're amaziing <3

awee i love this idea! i’m so sorry i didn’t see it sooner i’ve been out of town, also thank you for the love, your amazing!! feel better! this was rushed, my apologies for it being shorter.

masterlist

“my poor sweet girl..”

warnings: ⚠️fluff, girl pronouns, sickness INCLUDING throw up. really descriptive feeling of sickness.⚠️

you had woken up that morning, feeling groggy and absolutely exhausted. you checked the time to see it was 3am, and the overwhelming feel of your stomach absolutely pounding felt horrible.

you ran to the bathroom, hurling over to the toilet feeling all of the fluids from your body dispose. tears came into your eyes from the unexpected turn. you layed yourself on the bathroom floor, hating so badly the feeling of being sick.

picking up the phone, you decided to call your boyfriend alex, he’s the only person that could make you feel better at this moment.

“hi my love. what’s going on, it’s like 2 am there or somethin.”

you could hear his smile through the screen, which clearly left after you started crying a little being in pain, you were in obvious distress as you started speaking.

“i feel really really bad, and my stomach hurts, and i’m on the bathroom floor, and i can’t think of anything but the pain and-“

you started rambling, not even thinking before you spoke as you just wanted him to know how bad everything felt like it was going in the span of 5 minutes. he then stops you mid sentence,

“hey, hey, baby. it’s okay, listen to me. do you have any tylenol?”

you barely lift your head up, trying to be a little closer to the speaker of the phone.

“i think so?..”

he sighs a little bit, keeping the gentle tone in his voice.

“okay, sweet girl when you feel like you can get up, go and take that medicine okay? i’m so sorry mi vida, you know i want to be there right now with you.”

you want to keep him from worrying, he’s visiting family right now and you know if you ask he will immediately go and buy a plane ticket to see you.

the next morning you see 7 unread messages from your beloved boyfriend. all of them are him being worried, asking how you are. you go into the facetime app, clicking onto his contact.

the phone could barely go into the first ring before he answers.

“hey my love. how are you feeling?”

you shrug to yourself, you know that your stomach still feels as shitty as it did before. you wanted to be honest, just not as detailed.

“not too good babe, not going to lie. but i do feel better, thank you for suggesting the tylenol last night it helped, i promise.”

he looks at me, like i’m some poor stray puppy on the street.

“you do know i can come there right now? i can get a ticket, you know what let me get my computer i’ll schedule a day-“

you stop him, not wanting your sickness to mess up his plans.

“no. alex your family has been waiting for months to see you, they’ll be so upset even if they don’t show it.. you know that.”

he doesn’t want to admit that you are right, and he definitely wouldn’t want an argument while your already feeling horrible.

“okay, you know what, sure. but is your stomach feeling okay? did you throw up again?”

you turn over to the other side of the bed, as it felt cooler. when you got sick, your body always felt as if it was overheating.

“nu uh. my tummy still hurts, but no throw up.”

he snickers a little bit past the phone.

“tummy?”

“shut up.”

“i’m kiddingggg.”

you scoff a little rolling your eyes. you had a 101 fever, did he really think you were in the mood?

“your not funny.”

he smirks a little, then tries to actually talk to you.

“i’m sorry baby, im sorry. i know you feel bad right now, get some sleep okay? call me when you wake up.”

the day had its regular pattern throughout. you had been binge watching disney movies, as you felt there was literally nothing else to do. alex would call or text checking up, and always would hang up so you could watch your movie.

“hey sweet girl, what movie are we on right now?”

you held onto your pillow, adjusting the heating pad on your stomach.

“uhmmm. i’m currently on the lion king.”

he laughs a little at the tiredness in your voice, it made you sound adorably exhausted.

“wow i haven’t watched that in a while, i remember the.. oh a hakunu matatu?”

“a fucking what?”

you smile a little as a slight giggle escapes your lips. you hadn’t known he knew exactly what the song was called, he just attempted to make you laugh with a shitty joke.

he laughs along with you a little bit, before he talks more sincerely, showing his concern for his beloved girlfriend.

“are you feeling any better amor? everything going okay?”

“yes baby. i’m feeling good as to right now.”

he smiles through the screen, looking directly at you with love.

“good. listen i’m going to be home in a day or two, and ill make everything up.”

that night you felt yourself getting sick once again. your stomach had been your enemy for what seemed to you like forever. it’s as if he has a boyfriend sense, as he called you right as you felt yourself getting sick.

“hi baby! what are we feeling like?”

he asks oh so enthusiastically, which was the polar opposite of how you were at that moment. you sniffle a little.

“i feel..so bad..”

he pouts to hear your raspy little voice so sad and hurt. he immediately speaks up.

“oh my poor sweet girl.. what hurts right now?”

you couldn’t even think of one thing right now, as it felt like knives were coming in at every single direction.

“everything.”

he looks at you with honestly such a sad little look on his face. he tries to talk a little quieter, trying to be as confronting as he knew how to.

“it’s going to be okay my love.. take some more medicine, and we can talk for however long you want to alright? i love you so much, and im so sorry..”

for the next two days, you made sure he knew you were alright, wanting him to calm down as you were the top thing in his mind. the pattern went on until you did actually feel better, and when he came home, he was over the top in showing his love.

#quackity x reader #alex quackity #alex quackity x reader #quackity #quackity fanfic #domestic fluff #qsmp x reader #x reader #fanfic #fluff #love #sickfic

[ist4rgirlo]

Hi I have another Conrad fisher x sister request so reader goes swimming and her leg gets stung by a jellyfish and she gets out of the water and goes back to the house and calls Conrad from upstairs and he comes downstairs and makes her sit on the kitchen counter so he can clean it and he comforts her when it stings ( idk if u write for jere if u don’t forget this part if u do please add that he hears her crying downstairs and hugs her to help her move less to like hold her down and comfort her ) and throughout the day Conrad monitors her temp to make sure she doesn’t get a fever <3 ( this is long and so detailed idk if it’s a good or a bad thing I’m sorry also u don’t have to write it now or like at all if you don’t feel like writing platonic ik 3 requests in a row is a lot so tyt and write it when u feel like it <3 ) 

ONE SHOT !

Summary: Jeremiah and Conrad taking care of their sister.

Warnings: JUST FLUFF, maybe a little bit swearing and crying.

Requested by: Anonymous

───────────────────────────

''Connie!'' she exclaimed. I heard my mother yelling loudly, her voice sounded concerned -- here I was, being stung by a jellyfish and crying like a little baby because of the sting I got.

There were two of us in the kitchen when Conrad came running downstairs, looking for mom. The second he saw us, he immediately ran towards us, his eyebrows furrowed, and his voice filled with worry "What happened?"

"Well your sister was trying to surf earlier, I told her no because there would jellyfishes out there but she wouldn't listen!" Mom scolded me, I looked at Conrad with tears in my eyes -- his mouth frowning.

I saw Conrad going beside my mom, rubbing her shoulder, "She's going to be fine, don't worry. I'll clean it mom" my mom just nodded before she went back upstairs to continue cleaning.

─────────────────────────

"IT BURNS!!!" As I screamed, I got up from my seat and sat down on the floor, lying down there sobbing like crazy, I heard Jeremiah run down the stairs, he immediately running to the kitchen after hearing me scream.

"Connie please PLEASE make it go away" I yelled.

"What happened, Connie? y/n?"

"She got stung by a jellyfish"

"Oh you poor girl" Jeremiah frowned before walking towards me, holding onto me -- trying to keep me calm as much as possible.

Conrad panicked, "Shh shh, you're going to be alright okay okay". He went and grabbed me and sat me down on the kitchen counter while Jeremiah was by my side for emotional support.

"Okay, I have to clean so It might sting okay" Conrad said, going towards the cabinet to get some peroxide then kneeling down so he can see my feet better.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH" I yelled, accidentally hitting Conrad on the head. Jeremiah chuckled, laughing at me and Conrad.

Conrad winced, looking up at me and glaring at me. I just smiled awkwardly. "I'm sorry" he just smiled and went back into cleaning my feet.

───────────────────────────

After Conrad had cleaned my feet, they decided to put me into a bathtub and soak my feet in hot water for a while.

He then set me down on the couch so that he could monitor me every so often and also see if I had any bad reactions to the sting as a result of it. After that he made sure that I was asleep.

Throughout the day, Jeremiah sat beside me till I felt better, he was just there comforting me, making sure that I'm okay. Conrad would come and bring me food and he would always check whether or not I was okay.

"You okay, sis?" Conrad sat down beside me -- patting my head. Jeremiah looked at me and smiled.

"I'm alright now, thanks to you guys" I smiled up a him and Jeremiah before leaning my head on Conrad's shoulder -- feeling myself drift to sleep.

───────────────────────────

this one is kinda short so im sorry about that !! im trying to work on something which i am very excited bout :)) if y'all have requests just lmk !!

#tsitp #tsitp conrad #tsitp jeremiah #tsitp fic #tsitp fanfic #tsitp imagine #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher fanfic #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher fic #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher imagine #jeremiah fisher x reader #jeremiah fisher x y/n #jeremiah fisher x you #jeremiah fisher fic #jeremiah fisher fanfic #the summer i turned pretty

[biscuitbox23]

Dead weight.

summary: you run into the woods to get away from the group, you were reaching the end of your life as you suffer from aplastic anemia, only to get stopped by Rick.

A/n: I’m not a medical expert, i have no familiarity with the field of medicine I am just an idiot who is a sucker for terribly made sad stories. This may be a very long opening to the actual climax so im sorry for that :( please do DM me for advice on how i can make my fanfictions better!

Warnings: inaccurate depictions of the illness, non-established relationship (rick and reader), mentions of death, angst, cursing. (Not much due to me being a minor.) somewhat bad grammar since English isn’t my second language.

words: 1.3K

It has been a while, well, a while since you had a good stock of medicine. You had been in an abandoned cabin a few months after the outbreak. During it, you got stuck in a pharmacy in Atlanta. The law was gone now, so you hoarded a ton of antibiotics, capsules, injections, and anything you could get your grubby hands on.

When Rick and Daryl saved you from a trio of men who were trying to take advantage of you, you joined them and did not stay inside forever, especially when blood stained the floors of your shelter. It was a mistake.

You wanted to stay with yourself, isolated from the horrors and sacrifices that the world has offered now. It was harder to find medication now that most stores were stripped clean. It was easier for you to catch minor fevers, and you tended to have more rest than the others in the group. The only reason you were there is because you knew how to survive.

In the woods, in the apocalypse, no problem. Whatever your dad knew your dad would teach you, he was an outdoor person and loved to forage different shrooms and plants. God knows what happened to him.

You grew closer to the group, helping them find food and clean water, scavenging what you can find in abandoned retail stores (even if it does not have much importance.)

Now you find yourself walking out of Alexandria by attempting to climb the steel borders to the outside of the wall, your head spinning as drowsiness has consumed you to your very core, yet you still have the urge to continue. Or else you are just dead weight. You had a few foot slips —you swear, Enid makes it look easy— but managed to get out. You can sense your muscles aching as if you did not even have the strength to pull yourself up despite climbing trees more than a million times when you were a teen. You needed to disappear 

from the people, the group. Rick.

Rick was a leader, for sure. He had all the correct morals and cunningness and looked up to him for it. You were no longer the person of any use to him and his group. You could not even defend yourself without stumbling down to the ground.

You were around when T-dog and Lori passed away. You 

remembered falling for Rick when you first saw him, only to discover he had a pregnant wife and a kid. It started like a rocky road. You were so used to the isolation that it took a lot of convincing to get you to come with them to the prison.

You took a liking to his daughter Judith. You loved babies. It was a surprise. You thought that you would never find a baby in this world again. Carl was the closest to you. You tell him stories about your life and would do the same, reminiscing about the world that used to be. He praised his father a lot and got a good idea of what Rick was like as a father. Hershel would check up on your health while Rick would stand beside the old sport as Hershel examines you.

Making your way into the woods, you stopped by a tree to take a breather. Your hands were on your knees as you stared down to the ground, crinkles of the leaves crushing on the bottom of your shoes. The night was cold and airy. The chill on the tip of your nose was evident as you took one more glance at the haven that shielded the real outside world from its inhabitants. The sour stench of rotting meat was not detectable and gave some fresh air — It is not like you cannot get fresh air in Alexandria. You want to be alone most of the time.

“thought I'd find you here." A voice called out, the voice echoing in your ears sounding familiar as the crunching of leaves has gotten closer and closer.

“fuck” you curse under your breath, “how did you find me?”

“Carl saw you tryin’ to climb the walls.”

“huh,” you playfully scoffed but was met with a chill and a cough, “thought I was being sneaky…”

“what're you doin’ out here?” Rick asks out of the blue, staring you up and down as you lean back into the tree.

“Rick," you sighed heavily, “go back.”

“I'm not goin’ back till you tell me what happened, y‘know that, don’t you?” Rick asked with a twinge of concern mixed with his southern drawl.

You paused.

“I'm leaving, Alexandria,” You rubbed your forehead as your stomach grumbled. Sliding down to sit as your back leaned onto the tree further.

“If this is about your illness we can make—“Before Rick could finish his sentence you interrupted.

“Make it work? Yeah, I don’t think so…” You retorted, “You don’t understand, Rick. I have a condition where my bone marrow doesn't produce enough blood cells, and I have no meds to help me, what are the chances of finding a pharmacy? A pharmacy where it has all the things I need to survive?” You spat, frustration filling your mind like hot liquid.

“Denise can help you, Y/n, you have seen her efforts in helping you,” You can sense Rick’s desperation to get you back to Alexandria’s infirmary. His voice remained gentle but firm.

“Why, Rick?” Your eyes stared into Rick's ocean blue orbs, frustration, and confusion, “I’m not strong, anymore. I can’t go on runs, anymore. I can’t protect anyone.”

“Because we still need you—“

“Maybe it’s you who still needs me, Rick…” You spat, leaning your head on the wood as you got the strength to finally stand up, with the support of the tree, of course.

“Y/n we can discuss this once we get back,” Rick sighed, coming closer to you as he held both your arms gently.

A rush of adrenaline painfully scours into your veins as you push him away with all the remaining strength you have.

“GODDAMNIT RICK, WHY CANT YOU JUST LET ME DIE OUT THERE!” You yelled at him. “YOU KNEW I WAS GOING TO BE A BURDEN AND YOU SAW HOW MANY PILLS I HAD ON THE TABLE!”

Rick scoffed, “You're giving up now? After all that has happened? The prison, terminus… and you decide to end it all here? Where we’re finally safe?” His tone wasn’t as gentle but it was now harsher, deeper.

“if you think more treatments, will change anything, it won’t. I'm done and I won't let you guilt me into continuing this charade.”

“then what’re you gon’ tell Carl, hm? That you’re sick of bein’ alive so now you’re gonna leave?”

“This isn’t about Carl, Rick it’s about you keeping me to fill in the gap of what Lori gave you,” you glare with poison in your very eyes. “Leaving you to care for a child that was never yours.”

Rick went quiet, as you realized what you had said, “i-I’m sorry… Rick…” you pleaded, holding his hands.

Rick sighed, “Maybe you're right."

You nodded, your breath becoming shorter as your legs finally give in. You feel your body starting to shut down. Rick helped you sit down comfortably on the ground. You were paler and had many bruises on your arms and legs. You were heating up again.

“I'm sorry, Rick,” you breathed heavily, clutching the hand he gave you.

“It’s okay, Y/n,” Rick comforted you, kissing her knuckles as her legs trembled. Rick’s voice was shaky, almost labored.

“I don’t wanna turn, you can ask Daryl to keep my gun, you’ll need it,” You softly chuckled. Rick looked at you, taking his revolver from his holster.

“Get back to Alexandria, to Judith…” you smiled as you felt bile in your throat, blocking your airway and your heartbeat becoming more abnormal.

Rick gives you a final kiss on the head as an act of kindness and comfort on the edge of a quick and painless death.

—————————————————————

a/n: Hello everyone! This is my very first Fanfic and I thought about it on the spot 😭 Reading it for me makes me kinda cringe but don’t we all? Anyways hope you guys enjoyed it (cuz I didn’t but I’m a sucker for tragic love)

#rick grimes #the walking dead #twd #twd x reader #rick grimes x reader #the walking dead fanfiction #andrew lincoln #first fanfic #the walking dead universe #BiscuitWrites #twd oneshot

[cyb3rspyd3r]

" BABY SITTER <33 . "

req ☆ : Hi idk how many requests you got piled up lmaooo so don't feel pressured to get this out immediately if you can't but you should do a Miles 42! either fic or head cannon about how reader has to babysit, so instead of just going back home miles helps showing how he is with kids bc i feel like he's one of those ppl who swear they don't like kids but after a while he's drawn to how funny and aloof they are and the kids are drawn to his leave me alone personality

a/n: hii ! i wasnt rlly taking requests rn but this is soo cute so i decided to give yall this while working on this big story i have for yall , ALSO SORRY FOR CUTTING OUT PART OF UR REQ , IT WAS TOO LONG BUT ENJOYY

miles = dark purple you/nari = pink

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"aaaa ." you heard mayday say as you played with her , handing her a doll that she seemed to like , making her face light up as she giggled with excitement . "aww , youre so cutee" you said , you were getting baby fever over mayday , she was so cutee

you heard a knock at your door , turning your head to it and raising an eyebrow , it was 11:03 pm and you were home alone babysitting , who could possibly be at the door?..

you were slightly scared , this wasn't your first time being home alone but it was damn sure the first time someone has knocked on the door. It wouldn't have been your mom .. she would've used the key.. who was this??..

you got up and looked out the peep hole hesitantly to see a boy with two cornrow braids , a dark purple hoodie , some grey sweats , and some jordan 4s on. Nevermind you knew who this was ..

you chuckled a little to see miles at your door at such a late time , you opened it and looked up at him tilting your head in confusion. "why is u here at..11:03 pm?.." you weren't surprised he was here , but at this time?? he never comes this late .. "i couldnt sleep ma u mind if i stay over for the night?" you glanced at the bag in his hand which probably held all the things he needed , except for what was already here. some of his overnight stuff was here due to him staying overnight alot.

"mm.. lemme ask my mom first but for rn js come in " you opened the door so he could step in , and when he did him and mayday locked eyes making his face turn up while mayday giggled . "you aint tell me .. this ... was here .." his words traveled off as he slowly looked at you wit a stank face (sassy nigga life style..)

im sorry .. im rushing this kinda.. time skip . 30 mins .

while you were in the kitchen cooking some food for you , mayday , and miles , you peeped into the living room to see what mayday was doing and a smile formed across your face at what you saw. miles was playing with mayday , looking pretty happy himself as he tossed the ball back and forth to her cheering her on to catch it.

you took out your phone to take a picture , but when you went to take it you forgot your flash was on .. womp womp. miles shot his head towards you after seeing the light from the flash flood the room for a split second , glaring at you.

"nari." he tossed the ball back to mayday , her still happily giggling in excitement. "my bad .. thought u didnt like kids?" u crossed your arms , grinning at a statement that miles had made not too long. "shut up , she looked lonely" miles was fucking HORRID at making excuses and it rlly showed ..

taglist: @hiimayee @gw3ndyswonderland @444morales @all444miles @marci-jean @spiderheartzz @nokkihy

#atsv #miles morales #miles x reader #spiderman atsv #e42 miles #earth 42 miles x reader #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles fluff

[goodlucksnez]

❗ PLEASE NO REBLOGGING TO NON-KINK BLOGS ❗

A/ngel d/ust x husk & an/gel has comes back off set with terrible hay fever after working with flowers, and hu/sk is being nice

no one gets to talk bad about my angel dust voice okay, accent are hard and i am still working on it- I made this quick after work while people were cutting the lawn so sorry if the audio isn't the best

anyway enjoy you filthy sinners

cw: sneezing, (duh) some sniffles, cursing, 2 noseblows some sniffles, and playful nicknames, mentions of s/ex worker

❗ PLEASE NO REBLOGGING TO NON-KINK BLOGS ❗

transcript:

What the hell happened to you? You look like shit.

I will. Thanks, whiskas. Trust me, you don't want to know.

Ohh I most certainly do. What overlord did you fuck this time?

Hey, I will suck all of them. Besides, it ain't your fucking business. That's me and my work. Pour me a drink hard.

I'm not pouring you anything, especially when you're dripping snot all over my counter like that.

You.Suck at it.

Come on. 6 arms. Tell me.

Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you. Val's got this new idea for all the Spring Breakers who fucked a bit too much down here? Well, the Last of Us. A lot. This is a great marketing scheme to make this whole set of tapes about fucking spring. Normally, I ain't complaining. I mean. Look. The hole, the hole I beat, but this time it's a little different.

Judging from your appearance, I can say so. What did he do this time?

Yeah, yeah. He bought every fucking flower to just assault the fucking crew with everything.and towed

Wait, wait. You're telling me that some fucking flowers did this to you? You fucking weak ass bitch Wait. What spiders like live in flora and fauna.

Well, it ain't exactly my sceane. Yeah, I mean, sure have been. Don't get down dirty, but that's what fucking planet.thinks it will strum up bussness. The only thing that's strumming up is my allergies

Breathe.I got you, baby cakes. Just sneeze. You wont feel better till you do.

Impressive. You've got anymore in there?

No. If you tell anyone about.

You ain't gonna do nothing, kid. You're gonna go March upstairs and rest. I'll have smiles. Bring you some antihistamines. You gotta get this **** off of you.

Oh, and what he's suggesting? eh whiskers. You want to see me all nude?

What I want to see is your snot filled face.I'll join you upstairs in a minute. Why don't you go do yourself a favor and start taking a shower?

Oh kitty got claws meow

If you make another fucking cat pun, I will shove this bottle so far.

Oh, don't threaten me with a good time. God I am gonna murder hin (val)

OK, arachnophobia. You get out of here. Go clean up, OK? Ill have a little talk little moth friend.

No, no, no, no. Ain't no way you're going near Val.

Says anything about me? I was an overlord once I got deals. I still know how to play my cards right.

Now you're gonna ask. Shit I'm way too congested just even think about it. OK, im out of here. Bring the fuckin bottle.

poor kids gonna kill himself one of these days. Up to me to clean up the fucking mess.

#sneeze #snez #audio #sneezy #snezaudio #sneezeaudio #wav #sneeze kink #h/azbinwav #h/azbin hotel #h/azbin h/otel #ha/zbin hotel wav #ha//zbin hotel #sneeze wav #h/usk #an/gel d/ust

[littleavengerfics]

Stucky x little one where she ks having bad stomach pain and cling to her daddy’s?

Steve would be so protective and wouldn’t take her to the doctor instead he would let someone come to them while she curls up to Bucky in his lap🥺

thank you for the request!

warnings: doctors and mentions medical stuff and injuries

Stomach ache (stucky x little reader)

"Hey y/n guess what your favourite daddies got for you!" Bucky sang walking in with two large shopping bags, steve following behind with another.

However they were met with the sight of you curled up on the bed groaning in pain. Bucky immediately dropped the bags and walked over to the couch where you were laying in agony.

"Doll? Are you alright?" You shook your head writhing around feeling like you were being repeatedly hit in the stomach. "Hurts."

"How long has it been hurting?" Steve asked when he'd moved the shopping from the floor to the counter. "Jus after you left." Bucky and Steve shared a worried glance, they hadn't seen you in this much pain since... maybe ever.

"This could be something serious, maybe we should get someone to take a look hm? Just to check you're doing okay." You gave him a worried glance. "No wan."

"I agree Buck, we can't let them go out like this. They could get something else and I don't think it's a good idea to take them somewhere unfamiliar and scare them."

"Sam told me about an app where you can get them to come to you and if that fails we could always try Bruce." Steve agreed so he stayed with you whilst bucky arranged the doctors appointment.

"He said it will be around an hour." Steve nodded before laying down next to you, you eventually managed to cuddle up close without aggravating your stomach. "Daddy im scared. No like doctors."

"I know baby, but we need to make sure you're nice and healthy, okay? Me and Dada will protect you." After some cartoons and snuggles Bucky answered the knock on the door. "Baby this is Dr Alex can she come and take a look at you?" You saw a woman stood next to him, she seemed really friendly and your caregivers were there so you nodded.

"Why don't you sit with Bucky y/n and I will hold your hand." Steve suggested making you nod, Bucky sat down beside you, pulling you into his lap. "they're little right now, I hope that's okay." Bucky sighed and the woman nodded. "Of course, whatever makes them more comfortable." You couldn't help but smile at that she seemed nice, maybe you could trust her just a little.

"So y/n I've heard you have been having some stomach pain?" She asked sitting opposite you. "Mhm." You replied looking away. "anything else? Fever? Nausea?" Steve shook his head squeezing your hand a little to prove he was still there.

"Okay, do you mind if I take a look?" She asked making you nod nervously. "Alright, I can see some bruising around here." Her fingers touched it slightly making you hiss. "I know I'm sorry, well I think it's mostly likely just a pulled muscle, have they been doing anything strenuous recently?"

"They've been training a lot recently, I can't believe we didnt think of that." Alex gave him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it, I'm glad you called me out. It's always best to get it checked out rather than assume it's nothing. It seems quite severe but it doesn't require surgery which is good." Bucky sighed with relief hearing that and kissed the top of your head. "You did so good."

"They need plenty of rest and to avoid doing anything strenuous for 4-6 weeks, and I recommend ice packs and heat packs to helo witb the swelling along with some ibuprofen but other than that there's nothing else we need to do." Steve nodded looking at bucky, they both knew it was going to be hard to get you to stay still for 4-6 weeks. If you weren't training in your big headspace you were running around playing with your daddies.

"Thank you Dr Alex, let me show you out." Steve smiled shaking her hand before opening the door for her. "Bye y/n. Thank you guys." She smiled back at Steve and Bucky before leaving. "See kiddo that wasn't too bad." You glared at him.

"alright, I know, it's gonna be hard to stay in bed and rest but it's what your body needs and you can get all the cuddles you could ever want." You gave him a small smile at that. "We love you kiddo and we are so proud of you. You were so brave today." Steve grinned kissing your forehead making you giggle.

Maybe spending all that time in bed cuddling wouldn't be so bad after all.

#little reader #littleavengerfics #sfw agere #bucky barnes #daddy bucky x little reader #bucky x little!reader #steve x bucky x reader #daddysteverogers #daddy steve rogers X little reader #bucky x steve x reader #steve rogers x little reader

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

Resending this because I'm an idiot and sent it half finished

So I think a day out with possessive mommy wanda would be so nice. She'd get you all dressed up in a cute little outfit and have you do a little twirl to show it off. She'll look you up and down telling you how pretty you look for her while you fluster under her intense gaze. As a reward for being so good for her recently she's decided to take you shopping.

Wanda will spoil you endlessly, buying anything you want. She'll rest her hand on your ass while you're walking to the next shop because she always wants to be touching you in whichever way she can. That way anyone who looks at you will know you're taken, and also by the dark marks she littered all over your neck the night before that she refused to let you cover up. You get a little embarrassed but you know you're proud to be hers. When you make a pitstop at a cafe for lunch, she'll have you sit on her lap, one arm wrapped securely around your waist and one resting on your thigh. Of course Wanda will order for you, she knows your favourite snack and drink anyway.

For the end of the day, she'll surprise you with one more reward and will let you eat her out as she knows how much you love her taste. She'll then allow you to choose what toy she uses to fuck you with and will fuck you till you cant think about anything but her.

-🦎

i firmly believe that wanda picks out your outfits for you. she's all like, "let mommy dress you baby, i want to pick he perfect outfit for my perfect girl," and you fall for it every time. she practically just makes you melt, and so here you are in one of the shortest skirts you own, floundering under wanda's intense green eyes.

"you look so beautiful, darling." she'd husk out, and you'd just get even more flustered than you already are, reminding her that you have things to get done today.

she'd reward you for being so on top of things by promising a reward while you're out for the day. it seems like the second you even hint at wanting something, she's already put it in the cart. you can't help but start to get needy, with the way her hand is dangerously low on your waist, her fingers brushing the sweet of your backside every so often.

you're tugging your hair around your shoulders, trying to hide the dark hickeys she'd marked you with the night before, but wanda just smiles at you and brushes it right back behind your ears, leaning in to whisper, "don't hide them, darling. i want everyone to know that you're mine."

of course, you take one look at her wide green eyes, and find that you can't deny her anything. so, you walk around with your head held high, and wanda doesn't think she's ever been this desperate in public before.

she can barely make it through the late lunch you have, what with you squirming all over her lap. her hand on your hip stops most of the movement, but she watches the flush gradually make its way up your neck and onto your pretty face.

"let me order for you baby. remember, mommy knows what's best for you." she'd murmur, and you'd agree, satisfied with the choice she picked out for you.

by the time you get home, wanda's so fucking proud of you that she just can't hold herself back any longer. she practically throws you onto the bed, ripping her clothes off as you squirm out of your own, before positioning herself above your eager tongue.

"as a reward for being so good for me, now you get to eat mommy out and make her feel good." she'd say, and you'd barely have enough time to nod before your mouth is covered by her dripping core.

you barely remember the rest of the night, the taste of her lingering on your tongue as she rewards you with orgasm after orgasm after orgasm.

---

hehehehehe thank u so much for this one i wrote this with a rising fever so if its bad, im sorry

dw, i'm about to go take some medicine rn but i had to get the thoughts out

#🦎 anon #wanda maximoff #mommy wanda #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel #wanda smut #wanda marvel #mcu #marvel mcu #lesbian #writing

[rose-l-20]

Dad Head-canons - T.I.K

Master-list

Warnings: Mentions of childbirth/pregnancy, Dad jokes

AFAB reader. fluff.

Summary: How I see Tom as a Dad with the help of my current wave of baby fever 😂

Sorry if it’s a bit all over the place!

1000% takes as many days off as he can both during your pregnancy and the first couple of months after you give birth. 

Two words “GIRL DAD!!!!”. I’ve seen SO MANY other peoples HCs on multiple platforms saying the same thing and i’m so glad im not the only one that thinks this. I see him being the “as long as they’re healthy” type, but the minute the doctor announces “it’s a girl!” he (respectfully) would burst into tears of joy and bounce around the room and mumble “I knew it”.

As well as helping take care of the little angel, he would have the eye of a hawk when it comes to your recovery. Always makes sure you’re taking the right vitamins, drink plenty of water, have eaten all 3 meals of the day plus snacks/fruits, helps you with postpartum care and gives you cuddles, love and praise. 

Has a million different nicknames/terms of endearment to your daughter. some are sweet like, “My Princess” “My World” “Munchkin”. some are funny like, “Miss wriggle-giggle” “Milk-coholic” “sassy-gassy” which you laugh at every time.

I see Ice doing local or base related jobs (like teaching) instead of missions because he wants to be as close as possible to his family. 

When it comes to milestones, if he misses even one of them he will be excited but feel both jealous and utter disappointment. When it comes to your daughters first word, he makes it his mission to have her say “dada” first to the point he hides a photo of himself in the flat surface of the mobile above the crib. 

If he succeeds, he will brag about it for months until she eventually says “Mamma” and then he will stop. If he looses, he would mope around the house for a while in self pity and say “how dare you” as soon as the “Mmm” sound starts.

I see him being good at: dressing wounds (of course giving it a kiss), morning routine, school lunches (you write the note), homework help, bike training and first swimming lesson.

I see him being not-so-good at: night time routine, school drop off, being serious when his children have done something bad and keeping his wallet closed (his weakness is the puppy eyes and will spoil).

Invites all his Naval friends over to meet the bubba and they all refer to themselves as “Uncle ____” to which the both of you love and melt over. They all are super respectful by making sure they wash their hands and arms before getting the all clear to hold her.

as she hits 3 years old, her personality/mannerisms shows up in full swing and its the perfect combination of the both of you. His cockiness, compassion, and smile are the main ones. 

At this point you are pregnant with your second child, and Tom is on the way to becoming Admiral. Both being equally as important and exciting. 

Your daughter is already calling herself “Big sister” and wants to let every person she encounters to know and feels prideful when she gets told “you will be the best sister!”.

The two of you take her to her first day of kindergarten and even though your body has double the amount of hormones, Ice cried the most/hardest and once she was out of site and settling in you had to drag him out because he would stand there all day if he could. 

Soon you welcome twins. Another girl and a boy, which delighted you both and made your first born very excited.

Ice loved getting to experience the growth of 2 children. he loved seeing all the similarities and differences between them.

Ice made sure to be equal and take care of you the same way he did with your first pregnancy/birth, but would admit he found it harder as it wasn’t just the three of you. Tom hated to admit that he needed assistance some days and both sets of grandparents were more than eager.

When all of them were old enough (ages 8 and 5), Ice took them to work and showed them everything and there was not one bored face out of the three.

When taking them into his office so he could get an hour or two of work in, the oldest daughter asked “why aren’t there any pictures of girl Pilots or Rios Papa?” and he went on to explain why and how that was going to change soon. This ignited a flame in the 8 year old, and she got to work on her call sign, which at that age was “Snowflake”. 

Tom may not be taking professional missions anymore, but in the back yard with a DIY cardboard MiG-28 he was on at least 4 a week and for the first time in his career he was a Rio.   

All your children love Career’s day at school as they get to bring in Admiral Tom “Iceman” Kazansky! and because of the amount of times he was asked to come in, he was gifted a display in the school and he gave them some of his medals and gear for it. 

When Tom became a Dad, he became a Dad. this means he does the “i was watching that” when he looked dead asleep, gets off the couch with a “woah” and his Dad jokes were enough to make his children want to run for the hills. Tom evolved more as the years went by to the arms crossed legs shoulder width apart when speaking to his “daddy’s group” friends.

When the kids are tweens-teens he switches from the “trying not to laugh” dad to “I give you these rules because I care (but still trying not to laugh)” dad. Definitely does the “who, what, when, where, why?” When they start hanging out with friends and partying.

Takes his children on joy rides with his Admiral privileges. He even gave them their own helmets designed and custom to each child.

Would 100% help with them wanting to apply into flight school, would shine his rank in the absolute worst case scenario.

Gives a speech at all the graduation ceremonies, but cries when it’s one of his kids class and the audience and you “aww” at it.

Always makes sure that he takes you on date night throughout the years and spoils you like he always does.

Just a genuine and amazing dad

If you want more or another list of Headcanons feel free to request

Lia 🤍🧊

#top gun maverick #top gun 1986 #tom iceman kazansky #tom kazansky #val kilmer #iceman x y/n #iceman val kilmer #tom kazansky x reader #1980s #headcanon #i love him so muuuuuch

[h4rring1on]

pls do eddie taking care of sick reader i have such a bad fever rn LMFAO

you sat in bed, your eyes closed and your mouth open, you suddenly heard the sound of your door opening

“mom i told you i’m staying home today” you said as you turned around and snuggled into your bed

“yeah…not your mom—she kind of left”

you opened your eyes and sat up to see eddie standing there with an awkward smile

“eddie?” you said, your voice nasally, “go home” you said as you collapsed back in bed

“and leave you to die? i’d never leave thy princess to fend on her own” he said as he walked towards you, about to touch you until you pulled away and moved to the other side of the bed

“no, eddie seriously! ‘m all gross and sickly, don want you to see me like this” you said as you hid under the covers

“see you like what, baby? you’re still perfect…just sick” he said, moving to the other side and pulling the covers off your head

“no!” you whined, he shushed you and put a hand on your forehead

“jesus christ, did you sleep on the sun or something” he said as he walked out of your room

you felt relieved when he walked out, but that quickly went away when he walked right back in

“eddie—“

“come on, sweets. up” he said and you silently shook your head, “you don’t have a choice”

you sighed and nodded, eddie smiled at how quickly you gave up and picked you up, taking you to the bathroom, he set you on the counter and helped you take off your clothes

now you were sat in the bath, silently playing with the water while eddie watched

“hey” he said and leaned against it, “talk to me…what’s going on?”

you shook your head and continued playing

“i know somethings up, don’t leave me hangin” he light chuckled

“i dunno…you don’t have to care about me eds…i’m fine on my own.”

“of course i have to care about you, love. you’re my girl, can’t have my girl not taken care of.” he softly said

“i’m taking care of myself. don need your help…” you said you sat with your knees up to your chest

“you can’t take care of yourself because that’s my job.”

you softly hummed and kept playing with the water while eddie just watched, he didn’t like the idea that you thought he shouldn’t take care of you

“alright” he said and got up, trying to change the subject, “let’s get you changed in some jammies” he got the towel, you muttered a small okay and got up, he wrapped it around you and held your hand as you two went back to the room

he helped you change into your underwear and one of his band shirts that you stole, along with some pajama pants

you laid in bed, with a cold towel over your head, and eddie stroking you hair

“hey eddie” you softly said and he hummed, “i’m sorry i said i don’t want you to take care of me”

“no no, it’s okay. it’s not like it was gonna change anything, im gonna take care of you till i die” he chuckled and you lightly smiled

“sleep tight, sweetheart” he said as he held your hand and kept whispering sweet nothings into your ear, lulling you to sleep

#stranger things 4 #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie my love <3