#dust makes me sneeze 🥺

[hannahsnz]

Finally getting around to compiling all the small clips I have of sneezes. Here is literally only the first week of March.

Yes, they are all from my dust allergies 😩🫣

#snz #snzblr #snzfucker #snzbian #snz wav #bless me #dust makes me sneeze 🥺 #Youtube

[louebel]

Hi! Can I request fluff Law x fem!reader where reader is feels sick but tries to ignore it/do things on her own (she’s not used to ask for help) but as a doctor law easily can tell by the signs and it happens during their sea journey on the polar tang? Hope I’m not asking too much love ya 🥺

Feel free to add angst or anything else to your writing ^•^

this is super old and the only request i'll ever do (atm) since i had a wip— ANON SORRY IT TOOK FOREVER <\3 reader is gn since i used the second person and no description.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: trafalgar law × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 6,124 wc. a bit angsty, ends with fluff, emotional reader for the sickness, law is bad at emotions. this turned longer than expected, i hope it's decent xdd hit me up if there's any mistakes lol. supposed to be called windows of the soul,, divider by @ benkeibear my lord and saviour. 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: sickness overtook your body and worsened your already pitiful situation. law has been ignoring you and you have no idea why... but with how you felt, there was no way you could confront him at the moment.

scrub, scrub, scrub... 

"... phew ..." 

scrub... poof! 

"Oh! — damnit — aargh..." 

Cleaning today has been a nightmare. Never been so tedious. 

Like, it was already uninteresting compared to all the other things you could do, but today it was ten times worse. You could bear it, seeking to make dusting shelves fun by humming some random tune to yourself. It was okay, something you had to do every once in a while. You could do it. 

If only you weren't sick. 

"Achoo! Achoo! — urgh... Achooo..! Damn." 

You began feeling like this some days ago, or so you told yourself as you delicately hunched down to the floor, hoping to grasp the yellow sponge soaked in foam and water without experiencing excruciating pain. However, your hopes soon shattered as your back screamed in agony and your legs trembled with soreness, almost giving up on you. 

Just the flu, you insisted, it would go away. A couple of sneezes mean nothing. You would feel better and all would go back to the ordinary. 

... Oh, how wrong you were! And how stupid for not getting a day off. 

You were capable, though! You counted on your immune system (it sounded heroic the first time you thought of that). One night is all you needed. 

Or not. 

"Ow, ow..." 

You should've told your captain. Sure, it would cost your courage, pride, and dignity, but at least you'd be cured. You'd rather die than tell him you got sick because of the one herb he instructed everybody to avoid. 

What's worse is that he's been rather distant, and he's unquestionably avoiding you. The way he shoots daggers — no, whole machetes in your direction every time you do anything, smart or not, is so clear even the crew can see it. And the worst part? You do not know why. 

It had been like this for a while now, and you detested this whole plight with passion. Everything was okay between the two of you, you were sure of it! What did you do that spurred such a reaction? From one so dear to you? 

Those sweet memories... 

From new findings you excitedly presented him, to revealing himself, his past and adventures to you after almost a year of sailing. You knew everything about him. He knew everything about you. 

So why? Why stop so abruptly? You didn't mind when he digressed about his newfound coins. When he murmured under his breath while he pored over medical books or mulled about a particular topic. When he stressed over labor and called for a brief break, where you or the crew would attend to him by delivering him a meal or helping when he wasn’t looking. He's so stubborn.

"Uurgh..." 

From captain, to Law, to captain again. Not to mention how he deftly stopped you from hanging out with him. You thought he needed space at first. Maybe he was tired and had to rest for the next few days. That’s alright. However, your thoughts deteriorated as the days passed. But well, right now it's better if he doesn't see you at all. Nor the crew‌ — oh, the damn crew. Those two.

The "two" being the pair of nitwits that constantly stand by law's side and grin at you. Seriously... 

You do not understand what Penguin and Shachi find so amusing about your situation with him. It's a tragedy, not a comedy. You love them both, truly, the minute you stepped into the polar tang they were the first ones to get you to open up and all, but goodness, you wish you could beat them for sitting there, cackling and clapping their hands while confiding some mysterious comments to each other when la — the captain, showed up in the area and walked past you with an unreadable gaze. He'd constantly salute you and the others with a bow of his head or more, depending on his mood. 

Now? If he saw one inch of your form? 

Sigh. His face always went red. 

Why can't those two just tell you? Even Ikkaku seemed to know something you didn't. She was more subtle about it, though. Jean Bart wasn't slick either. You could see him smile from a mile away. Hakugan and Clione? Shachi and Penguin 2.0, except they hid behind Jean Bart. The rest pitied you instead, sometimes patting your back — sometimes shaking their head almost in disbelief. Oh, and Bepo gave you suspicious smiles! Every time he tried to say something to you, those two animal hat-wearing goblins silenced him. Did they just want you to suffer? 

And if they did want that then their curses were working because even after grabbing the sponge (almost losing your temper as it slipped through your gloved palm twice) and straightening back to an erect pose, your head was still banging with fervor, muscles barely reacting. 

If only you could snuggle with the fluffy, warm mink right now. A bitter sigh rushed past your lips at the thought. 

Those two were just so mean. But Law was much meaner — the captain, the captain... Yes, the captain. That... That dummy. 

You groaned and shook your head while forcing your wobbly arms to scrub the table, exhausted mentally with this never-ending train of thoughts and these fanciful fists leaving invisible bruises all over your poor body. Not to point out those hands pinching your brain like dough... 

Just — you... Goodness, what was it he suddenly despised so much? The submarine felt like home. It was home, especially when he joined you. Now when he does, he — the aura he emanates is intimidating, yet everyone is either unaware of it or not affected by it. 

What made him so resentful? You can barely say anything when he strides into the place, too panicked to learn how he would perceive you or talk to you if you go on. It's like you're back on step one, isolated, too scared to be yourself with your family. Because of one man who's supposed to be the head of it. 

Being you felt like a sin when close to him, as if he preferred the private variant of who you are, and shunned your curious and spirited self. You could understand since he’s rather closed off and well, in a certain aspect you are too, but — did he not like you at all? Was it all an act to not offend you? He didn't seem to dislike your vivid reactions initially, or your foolish gestures when nearing a fresh island. You were often silent, smiling and listening to others converse, but when around your companions, you easily liked to open up since it was the only time you could do so. And they were more than just that. You entrusted all the members of the heart pirates. They meant everything to you. Even him, who stopped including you. 

Ugh... 

You wished it could all go back to normal. 

This disease enjoyed fumbling with your previously scrambled sentiments. Law did mention it brought a high fever and emotional susceptibility. You didn't consider it'd be this severe. 

"... Okay, I'm done." 

You certainly weren't, with your bed unmade and furniture still dusty; floor imploring for a good wash. However, with the croaky voice you had paired with your runny nose, you doubted you could do more. Even if you did, it'd be better not to. 

You peered down at the bucket full of water that probably smelled better than you at the moment, ignoring the small puddle beside it made by your poor handling sponges skills. Grimacing, you decided to leave it where it was in case carrying it back turns out to be a challenge. Hopefully, Ikkaku can provide you help later. 

Looking around, your droopy eyelids dimmed your perspective and further provoked you as both exasperation and exhaustion mixed and boiled in your gut, room so messy it mirrored your current state. You didn't know what was irritating you more: the light of the lamp or the disarray you resided in. 

Howling dejectedly, you turned and plodded to your bed, opening your arms, ready to throw yourself on the mattress. The more you sleep, the sooner you'll get better. Yeah, you're so brilliant. You closed your eyes and — 

knock knock. 

— reopened them a second after, remaining immobile for an extra few before glowering at your door, contemplating whether to go open it or linger to determine if they'd leave. Hmm. 

You waited. 

... knock knock. 

Fantastic.

You gritted your teeth, drawing a profound breath to settle your nerves, haywire thanks to the hellish illness. They didn’t deserve to withstand your rage, but who knows, maybe by seeing your shape, they'll show sympathy and tell you. That could work. 

Okay. 

You sluggishly trudged to the door, not bothering to adjust your unbuttoned pajamas and faking a cheerful facade. You hoped your face didn't look too awful, but you couldn't care less right now. 

Gripping and twisting the knob, you pushed it open, greeting them with the feeblest voice you've ever had, your sore nose making it unthinkable to inhale air. You rubbed the back of your head while doing so, eyelids closed to evade any light. 

"Yo, Penguin, Shachi, how can I—" the words automatically came out of your coarse and blazing throat, opening your eyes a bit to look at... them... 

Then you saw a tattoo. And more tattoos. No white, poofy boiler suits in sight. 

By barely seeing light before, you tried giving yourself mercy, but now you were only slaughtering yourself to make sure the person in front of you was, well. Him. 

Your jaw fell while your brows lifted in consternation, but shortly returned down thanks to your declining headache. Your pupils then scaled the mountain of mass before you and arrived at the peak. Another pair of eyes. 

Cool, gray eyes. The ones that just a week ago welcomed you with compassion and comfort. Now they drive you to wither away from this world. Even if you look up to them. (Hehe, get it? man, you're so silly, wow.) 

"—help … Captain. Uh, hello." and there goes your comfort zone. 

You tried swallowing down air but got pounds of mucus down your stomach instead, curved posture closing up even more in his presence, ashamed to be seen in such a weak state, instantly regretting not managing your appearance as his gaze scrutinized you from top to bottom, probably displeased with how you presented yourself.. 

You looked everywhere but at him. He only looked at you. 

Envy spurted from the plant’s toxins. How could he focus on one thing and have so much confidence to stare at someone without breaking eye contact at all? If you do the same for longer than two seconds, it feels like whoever looked at you has seen your entire personality, life, darkest secrets that you didn't really have, closest people to you — everything in poor words. The windows of your soul, perpetually agape.

How does he keep them closed? Why can't you seal them at all? Why?— 

"—so care to explain the meaning of this?" 

"Huh?" 

You stupidly stared at him, blinking and glancing at his shoulders, then back at him to break whatever spell he put on you, not able to concentrate at all. 

Barely could you see the annoyed expression on his face. You hoped he wasn't dealing with excessive stress. Making him feel worse was not your intention. 

"I said, care to explain what this is? You look... terrible—" you cringed at that, "—and you haven't come out of your room since this morning. Do you have any idea what time it is?" His scrutinizing tone made you want to crawl under your blankets and stay there forever, but his patronizing gaze didn't let you. 

You could merely fidget with your fingers and glance back at the floor to relieve your worries, which mixed with pain, fatigue, and dirtiness. You called for sleep so badly. 

"I'm—I'm sorry, Captain. I, uh, I didn't—" sniff, "—mean to skip my duties. Sorry." 

His brow creased in suspicion at your raspy voice and poor shape. 

"Is that so? Look at me while you say it." if his words weren't menacing enough, his tone was too. He knew you couldn't do that. Especially now. 

"Uh..." you unconvincingly whispered, continuing to play with your fists, until rubbing your nape once more, shuddering at how chilled your hands were compared to it. 

Your actions were, again, spotted by him, and if one more thing occurred, then he'll be correct. 

"Well? I'm waiting." 

"..." 

Sighing exasperated, you raised your head to look into his pupils once again.  

Unbeknownst to you, he already confirmed another of his impressions while taking a further view of your sullen visage. 

"I, uhm, overslept, Captain. That — that happens sometimes, yeah? Sorry about that. I'll—I'll..." stopping for a moment, you squinted your eyes and scrunched your nose while the man before you attentively fixated his stare on your frame and— 

"Achooo!" —covered half of your face whilst he recoiled back at the loud sneeze you let out, not expecting it at all. He blinked, then you sneezed again, and again. Streak of three. 

If your voice and glossy eyes already told everything to the doctor, the continuous sneezes only reinforced his thesis. 

You exhaled haplessly as he sternly said your name. 

"You're sick." his firm and coherent words could not be fooled. Your fate was sealed. 

"...Yeah." at this point, you didn't care. He was gonna scold you, nothing you could do about it. You could only hope he'll do that after you're cured because right now, you could barely stand still without shivering. You were sure if he wanted to do something he would have already, so he definitely will have a talk with you after you're healthy. 

"Why?" you've been proven wrong so many times this morning — afternoon. Evening? That you don't know what's gonna happen next. 

You stared at him numbly, almost done with everything. 

"What do you mean 'why'? I don't, I don't know. Probably our... Ugh, our last stop, isn't that obvious—" 

"Not that. Why didn't you say anything? To the others? To me?" 

If it wasn't for your head beating incessantly and the aching of your tendons ruining everything, you would think this was a dream. 

You kept gawking at him like a goldfish. His timbre wasn't as stern as it regularly was. It was a bit, just a tad bit lower. Like, barely. His eyes were softer, and if you met the man yesterday, you wouldn't be capable of identifying his mood. It's because you knew him for so long that you could distinguish it. 

"I..." you mumbled talks under your breath, awfully feeble to maintain the discussion, barring your eyes and hitching away when Law planted his freezing hand on your forehead. You fussed in protest, although it didn't last long. 

"You're cold... Off." 

"My hands are perfectly fine. You're burning," he interrupted you, stating the obvious. But you were far too deep to listen, fatigued. 

"Yeah... M'sorry." you nodded while deliberately looking down in shame, almost dropping to the ground out of fatigue. Everything seems hazy, the pressure in your skull fading, while the breaths you took were meager. 

Something skimmed over your shoulder and nape — ah, his fingertips — palm carefully tilting your head back up. Your mouth hung open, and you attempted to focus on your captain's facial features and the iconic hat to not fall asleep. 

"It's fine." But his gentle approach and mellow maneuvers set you in a soothing trance, where you couldn't do anything other than auscultate him. 

It’d be an exceptional moment to speak up about these last days, his odd actions. 

"It... It is? You, ah... You're not..." but you struggled to do so, chest too heavy to speak. He narrowed his eyes, striving to make out what you were saying, but it was all incomprehensible to him. 

"I'm not?" he urged you to proceed, getting closer — he felt warm. Wasn't he cold some seconds ago? Ah, he’s draping his coat over your shoulders, so, so cozy, — and holding you as if you were glass. Why was he holding you? It felt nice, undoubtedly nice. Oh, you were going to fall, you think. 

“Hey—hey. It’s okay. I got you. I got you.” 

Cradling you in his arms, Law cursed and crouched down, snaking an arm under your knees and sweeping you up, a short "there" slipping from his tongue, keeping you close to his breast. Naturally, you snuggled close to the source of heat, losing consciousness, unaware of your surroundings, his distress, and jogging to the infirmary. 

“Hey. Keep your eyes open. No, no, open—yes, yes, like that. Good job. A bit more, then you can go to sleep, alright?" 

While nodding lazily when he said your name again, you curled up for more warmth, and he mellowly followed your movement, hefting you up and pressing his lips upon your forehead, his frown deepening at how high the temperature was. He needed to administer medicine quickly. 

"Law …'m sorry if I smell." 

He scoffed. Thinking of such idiotic things was exactly like you, sputtering them out so bluntly. Rolling his eyes was natural at this point. 

"That's my last concern. We'll think of your scent and hygiene later. Don't speak. Shh." 

So stupid, so stupid. He should've confronted you ever since you left the island. He should've. It's been a recurring pattern these days. He couldn't see you because of his work but spoke with the others at breakfast, lunch, dinner... They all grew concerned about your distance. Uni shared that it began right after the departing... He knew something wasn't right with you, he could feel it.

Back in that inhabited location, he quickly took note of your drooping posture and fatigued breathing. He wanted to ask about it, but the following days, you acted normal, and Law thought you were queasy because of the heat.

Then he got busy checking on the crew's documents, medicine supply, the damn broken scope Hakugan sadly reported, bounties, news — and something else. He managed to give a check-up to everyone but you. It was mandatory after leaving an island.

With you evading him and him doing the same, this happened. Great. He could only hope it wasn't contagious.

... Wait.

He gritted his teeth in sour realization — Not once has he seen you in the halls or dining hall. No one mentioned you, either. Have you eaten anything at all? Oh, you imbecile.

He palmed your skin through your suit, easing your laments and whimpers, walking through the hallways of the Polar Tang and reaching the infirmary. Kicking the door open while lulling you a bit, shushing and fluttering his eyelids at your sick and quaking form. 

"There we go. Shh, I know, I know, it's awful." 

Uplifting the blankets, he quickly covered you and began searching for his equipment, rustling and metal clicks tangling with your whines. 

"U- uuh... W- where..?" 

"I'll be there in a second. I'm here." 

As he said that, he quickly came back to you, already stirring medicine in a cup. He had to give to you before you blacked out or fell asleep. Sliding a hand under your back, he carefully pushed you up, gaining a groan from you; you sounded so tired. Tipping your head forward, he brought the rim of the cup to your lips. You were delirious, could barely see or feel, but managed to follow his direct instruction to "open". The first glass was tasteless, fresh... water. 

The second tasted awful. 

"E—eugh..." 

"A couple more sips and we're done. Come on, you're doing good." 

Once you drank it all, with a small praise from Law, he gently laid you back down, about to check your vitals. He knew you were in no condition to do as he instructed, it would be all him. Idiot, idiot... 

Just looking at you made him guilty. He never saw you this awful. However, what truly pushed him were your next phrases. 

“Do you feel better now..?” 

Low and dry, they all were. He halted his movements, his hands in the bag, shifting his attention to you. 

Your question puzzled him. 

Feel better? Him? He was fine. Perhaps you thought the disease was contagious? No; you would've phrased that diversely. His forehead creased, slightly tilted to the side. 

"What?" 

“I … I missed you." 

And as clear drops cascaded down your cheeks, his limbs froze, a bittersweet ache striking his chest. 

"I—I thought I did something wrong … I’m sorry … Should've told you. 'M sorry ... really...” 

Shit. 

“No, no, don’t be. It’s alright, don't—don't speak. You did nothing. Shh...” 

And if you stayed conscious for some more seconds, you could've seen those severe pupils mitigate. The windows of his soul open up; the "stern" gaze he preserved for you withering in an instant at your vulnerability. 

All he wanted to do was clear that up. When, now..? 

“I—I’m the one that should’ve apologized, damn it…” 

"Aargh..." 

Warm. 

"Mmh..." 

It was very warm. Pleasant. 

"Hn..." 

The boilersuit felt different. Heavier, and not … poofy. Hm. 

The pillow was so nice, though... 

You sought a better position under the comforting and amiable regime of your blanket, squinting your glistening eyes as if sand had struck them; eyebrows knitting in distaste and discomfort, choler cramming up your insides — but not for long, extremely achy and sleepy to lament. 

Shouldn't it be easier to relax now that you are tired? Shifting left and right left your muscles throbbing. The peace you could achieve in your dreams was all you begged for. But no, you just had to rise two more times in the span of minutes or hours. 

When you woke up the third time, someone surprised you. He was perching on a chair near the infirmary's bed, head, presumably about to doze off. An encyclopedia of vegetation and exotic environs sat in his palms and dotted jeans, the cover made of green-coloured leather, firm to the touch. 

He looked peaceful. 

"... Law?" 

Your lashes fluttered at the fierce shudder that rocked his frame, the textbook about to fall, his eyes snapping open and rapidly darting up to you. 

"Oh. You woke up. Good. Good evening." 

You were mad at him. You were mad at him. 

His lips were indubitably moving. Whatever he was saying, you were not listening. Something about being out for hours, but you were too out of it to pay attention. 

And looking down at your body, your eyeballs almost popped out of your sockets at the sight of... Not your boilersuit. 

"I'm in my pajamas?" 

"And — hm? Oh. I changed you." Pause. "With my devil fruit, of course. Obviously. You were way too hot in it." 

"..." 

"..." 

Pause number two. 

"I'm hot?" You bluntly said,

"Not in that way." And he quickly retorted, bashful. You immediately got gloomy.

"Oh..." You and Bepo were alike. He couldn’t help but sweatdrop.

"No, no, no, don't — you look fine. That's not what I meant." 

A hoarse chuckle ripped from your sensible larynx, a noise that he hadn't heard in a while. His back loosened at your jovial note, the pressure applied on the envelope of the manual lessening. 

There was a superb illustration of the flora you accidentally whiffed. 

"You inhaled it, didn't you?" 

... Silence followed. Then a sigh.

"A simple allergy with a sore throat and emotional instability in the first phase caused by the pollen, weakened muscles and headache in the second, and heightened senses, nausea, and worsening of the body in the last one. You felt them all." 

Quick and precise, each symptom he mentioned appeared throughout the weeks you boarded on the Polar Tang. He hit the mark. Glancing at him from the corner of your eyes, you nodded sheepishly, feeling hot in your cheeks. 

"Y—Yeah." 

"I thought I mentioned dodging those peculiar red flowers. I don't expect you to recall the name, but to avoid it. Thankfully, you only inhaled its pollen, or else you would've been in this bed the moment we departed." 

"O—oh... That bad?" 

"No, not really. The symptoms would've developed quicker, but nothing dangerous. Perhaps you would have slept over two days, as all cases do when encountering this allergy," He narrows his eyes at you, shutting the book and crossing his long legs, his foot jouncing. "Not at all fatal, only worrying when the patient in question mentions nothing about the symptoms and overworks themselves.” 

“Hey—” 

“You're fine." 

A small huff left your lips, nodding lazily. Nothing was uttered after from both sides. Occasional groans from yours. Only then he spoke. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" 

"..." The answer was simple. He immediately found the illness yet couldn't pinpoint the cause of this? It was almost ironic. Your quietude wasn't taken well. 

"Well?" 

"... You ignored me. You made it clear." 

And he was faking ignorance. That glance, his attitude. You knew him too well, but had no energy to call him out. 

"I—I didn't." 

"Don't play coy, Law. Did I do something? Even the others know. Penguin and Shachi told me. I—" 

You paused when he raised his hand, glancing at it in confusion, then back at him, twice or more. He sighed and dropped it back on his thigh again, using his other one to rub his temple in distress. 

"You did nothing. I don't know what... Shachi and Penguin said," You tilted your head at his peculiar manner of quoting them. "But I've got nothing against you." 

He stopped rubbing and lifted his head to check on you again and you were unsure of what to say. His brows wrinkled the tender skin of his forehead, severity, and minor unease painting every fiber of his appearance. 

You just... didn't know. 

"Really? Then why those weird stares? Why leave the room the moment I come in? I mean." you flailed your hands around, looking everywhere as if you could find an explanation. "You never behaved this way, Law, not with anyone. I... It was fine before, right? Let me ask again, did I do something wrong?" 

"Of course not!" 

At his hasty exclamation, you blinked, uncertain why he became as rigid as stone. Palms back on the blanket, you awaited an elaboration of his thoughts, observing his adumbral face to detect any key to figure out what caused him to alter his ways with you. However, his hat, which you've always appreciated for its fluffiness, turned out to be an issue. Those eyes you've grown so fond of refused to meet yours. 

You just couldn't get it. The surrounding air grew an intoxicating no romance book would mention, one that did the contrary of setting your heart aflame, that poor muscle of yours. 

If he explained, it would've been easier. 

"Okay, 'of course not' ... Sure—" 

"We are not having this conversation. You need rest." 

He briskly cut you off, and your heart felt constricted. The words felt bitter upon both of your tongues, so bitter and revolting, they made his jaw clench and your eyes water. You weren't having it. Absolutely not. 

"I feel better now, thank you, and I say we're having this right here." You pushed, ignoring how he clenched his tattooed fist.

"No—" 

"Yes, Law! I don't know what I did, but if it bothers you, shouldn’t you tell me? There are things we can all miss." 

The pang in your brain was still active, and you had no patience nor strength to argue. Either he spoke up or you'd go straight to sleep. 

"I... You did nothing that bothers me." 

His speech was almost a whisper, a low rumble, and were you in your regular state, you'd feel sad to see him like this. Law had no trouble speaking up— perhaps with apologies, or admitting to be wrong when in the midst of a conversation. Maybe something genuinely bothered him. But he'd tell you, wouldn't he? He had to.

But you weren't the only one who had to consider the consequences. He also had to do his part. 

"... And?" you encouraged him, to gain something, something that would lead you both to that damned thing you were both chasing, that ounce of understanding. 

“And—and what?" alas, it served another wave of blistering dissatisfaction down upon the membranes of your boiling stomach. 

He couldn't be serious. 

"... Whatever. I'm going to sleep." 

"What?" 

You detested how you were feeling, a volcano of passions, the pounding in your skull, and the heat, and the ludicrous, nagging insecurity, all these wretched, gristly sensations shoved in your mouth and scraping your gullet, such a relucting and squalid dish, contaminating your palate and inflaming the gums of your teeth. 

But all Law could see was how your eyes moistened and reddened, the crinkles at the corners of your mouth, the contracted tissues above your nose. 

You couldn't feel how his heart plummeted, either. Again, he caused you to cry. 

"Hey... I—" 

"No, Law, no! I said leave! You ignored me for almost two weeks and now—now you're just..!" 

Perhaps you were being a bit too "dramatic" for something you could solve with a modest exchange, something that, compared to all the obstacles you and Law went through, was a sheer grain of dust in your shoes. Yet you erupted for the frustration, the plant's effects and that nameless thing you'll bring in your grave, for if he knew, he'd probably pity you. 

Maybe, just maybe, he should've kept ignoring you. If solely to dim that warmth. The glow in your eyes that only sparked with him. 

"I don't mind if you need time. I don't mind if you're busy or whatever, that's obviously fine! But can't you tell me? Is it that hard? Instead of treating me like a stranger? Just—just, just leave..." 

Your snotty voice seemed ridiculous, resounding through the infirmary alongside your sobs and sniffles. Vision tarnished by your tears, staring at the ceiling with resignation. It alarmed Law, whose emotions were already scattered; unnerved, anxious. 

He couldn't take seeing you like this. He couldn't. 

"That’s not it! I... I just — I..!" His broken explanations fell as your cries didn't stop; spasms traveling through your frazzled nerves. He swore under his breath, getting up and coming to you, standing close but so, so distant. His fingers jerked, impatient to wipe your tears, to calm you down, to assure you everything was alright, and this was all on him. 

"What..?" you meekly whimpered, gazing at him as he appeared in your sight. 

"I, I..!" if only he could express himself. You'd figure out. If only he could, without buckling and tearing apart at the weight of his own feelings. 

"... You what, Law?" 

It was tough to see with all those tears coating your scleras, but... His lips quivered. His jaw tensed. 

His hands craved yours. 

"I like—I like you!" 

... You wondered if illusions were part of the symptoms. Your eyelids were all but relaxed. Popeyed. 

"There. I said it. I mean it. Seriously. I—I think I love you." 

You could feel his frantic grip, slightly pulling the blankets in his direction, tense as him. You've never seen Law so … jittery with you. Perhaps when he slowly spoke of his past, or when his plan failed. 

"I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I... I was confused. I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't... No, okay. I, I love you, but you don't have to reciprocate, really. ‌I just wanted to clarify that I wasn't—" 

This was different, however. Not the same vulnerability, nor agitation. That teetering edge coating his sayings, not at all close to those instances. 

"... Law." 

"—ignoring you, I mean, I was, but I just couldn't face you, you know? I didn't know how to act—" 

That glow, those feelings. The twinkle in his eyes Bepo mentioned when you spoke of something that fascinated you, that rare grin on his lips, and that sweetness, the swelling in his chest, and the red, and the breath of fresh air, and the intoxicating romance books loved to talk about... 

Those tints blooming in his cheeks. The faint relaxation of his defined brows. How he covered his pretty, vulnerable self. 

He's no different from you. Oh, oho ho, no, he wasn’t. Only now did you realize. 

"Law." 

"—but I missed you so much, I missed your presence, being with you, I—" 

Your heartbeats matched. 

"Law!" 

You understand now. The definitive yell induced him to quit his blabbering, and eventually, he found your gaze. Those windows were not locked at all. Not marginally, not halfway. They were fully open. You could see him. 

"It's... the same." 

It was all you could utter. His jaw loosened, and you could recognize his wide, stormy irises. 

"Huh? Wh — what?" 

"I feel the same way, Law. I—I love you too." 

Yours were open, too. They always were- yet he never acknowledged what dwelled inside. Two fools you both were. 

"... Oh..." and a breathless whisper was all he could offer. 

The silence dissipated. A delightful warmth occupied your rib cage. The pressure was gone. 

All is back to normal. 

"If... If you weren't sick. I'd kiss you." He mumbled, and his lips looked more luscious than ever. He shouldn't have said that. Now it was even harder. 

"P—pfft... Of course, of course. Can you come closer, at least?" you pouted, giving him the best puppy eyes you could muster. “Pretty please?”

"... Fine. It's — not contagious, anyway," he huffed, his cheeks a light pink, and he sat on the margin of the infirmary's bed, hustling just a tad bit closer... 

Closer... 

"Closer?" 

"Alright." 

His ears grew pink at your giggles. Your fingers graced each other, "DEATH" entwined with you. His hands were lukewarm. Long, slim, calloused in some places, but also tender to the contact. His metacarpals were partially discernible, defining the shadows. He took care of his nails, ensuring they were cut short, although they appeared slightly, just somewhat lengthier than usual. Not considerably, however; they were still short. 

How you missed holding it. 

"Sorry, by the way. About everything." Squeezing his hand, you attempted to show him what it meant to you. He squeezed it back, brushing the top of your hand with his thumb, a pensive and solemn look on his face. 

"No- I should apologize for not saying anything sooner. I neglected and avoided you. I … I don’t know what to do. You know I’m not the type for relationships.” 

You hummed in acknowledgement, but weren't as worried as Law. You'll wait. Nothing would change. 

“Mmm. I can wait for you, Law.” Saying it seemed to take him off guard, as if he hadn't thought about it. Or, rather, didn't expect you to propose it. In his head, it seemed silly because it's him. If you were to ask in his place, he'd also wait. 

He felt lighter. 

“… Truly?” 

“Yeah. We can figure it out together. Like we always did. I’ve loved you for years." He inhaled deeply, your words buttery and sweet. "I’m fine with waiting longer.” 

Thinking you wouldn't accept, if he asked, was stupid of him too. Of course you would. Of course. With another squeeze, he nodded, and turned his head away from you a bit. 

His eyes glistened. 

“I’d like that. Thank you.” 

You smiled, too, saying nothing in return. 

He can take all the time he needs. 

After some days, everything went back to the typical routine. The first thing you did was knock Shachi and Penguin's heads, (supported by Ikkaku) and since Hakugan and Clione were on duty, you couldn't do the same for them. 

You puffed your cheeks and enjoyed chewing the well-earned treat you snagged from the kitchen, reorganizing boxes since this morning. 

"Tired?" 

Peeking at the door, a smile adorned your mouth at the sight of your captain leaning on it. 

"Mm, there were a lot of them." 

"You could've asked for help. You know I don't want any of you to strain yourselves with tasks." 

"I had it. Don't worry. Although..." another bite. "I miss it." 

"Hm?" he crooned, tipping his head forward. "Miss what?" 

You gazed into his eyes, "Miss getting pampered by you when I was sick." lovingly observing how they enlarged a bit before returning to the stoic stare he always wore, swaying his head to dismiss your remarks. The chambré tint on his cheeks was as clear as day, like his light smile. Not that you'd tell him, he'd immediately disregard it. 

"... Meet me at my office once you're done." 

As he turned his back to you, his boots making clicky rumors with each step, your smirk amplified... After all, who could wait to get coddled by none other than their favorite captain?

#law x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece imagine #trafalgar law #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d law x you

[newtabfics]

Title: Puppy

Summary: Tieflings have heats, or maybe Rolan just has a really low resistance to a certain adventurer that has plagued his mind since they've met. So when the city celebrates victory over the Mind Flayers, Rolan joins her for a drink.

Heads up: Bottom!Rolan, "Puppy", Breeding kink, Oral (MR), Cowgirl, Creampie, PWP

The request that helped inspire this: Can I get a Rolan x sorcerer tiefling reader please? Wizard x sorcerer is a funny pairing since they have so much beef with one another and man do I love tieflings, they can hold tails❤🥺 But anyway it can be either nsfw or not...or both 👀 no complaints about that.

The roar of the tavern rumbled around him as he sipped his ale. He smirked as he watched the twins dancing with the warlock. They were teasing the poor man until he was practically dizzy.

"Seems they like torturing Wyll," A new voice purred behind him. Glancing over, he almost sneered out of reflex. Tav smiled at him. "Mind if I join ya, Puppy?"

"Sure," He said after a moment's hesitation. The nickname again. He was unsure what it was but every time she teased him with that nickname, it sent a jolt through him.

His tail flicked as hers twitched. He couldn't help but admire her form, frowning as he saw the bandages on her. "You look like a wrapped corpse," He muttered.

"Charmer," She snorted. Her smile made his chest warm as he eyed her. "You doing alright?"

"Yes. Just…prefer a bit of quiet drinking myself."

"Is that your way of saying to fuck off?" 

Rolan's heart sank as he realized the implications of his words and quickly declined the thought. "I mean…Ah…" He cleared his throat.

Through the corner of his eye, he saw the twins grinning beside Wyll. The three were watching him. Even Wyll joined in giving him an encouraging thumbs up.

Tav's laugh filled his ears. "Relax. I'm only jesting, Rolan. Wanna drink on the balcony?" She offered.

His shoulders untensed as he smiled softly. "I'll get us another round then. Go on ahead?"

She nodded as she turned. His eyes trailed down her body as he watched her walk away. His breath hitched as he caught sight of her tail. It was raised and twitching, practically inviting him in.

Rolan gulped thickly as his face turned hot. He ordered the next round and prepared himself to meet her out on the balcony.

Tav took a steadying breath as she leaned against the railing. The ruined city was laid out before her. In the river, she could vaguely see lights. Likely scavengers attempting to salvage what they could from the remains of the Elder Brain and the bodies of Mind Flayers being thrown in carelessly.

A part of her wondered if those that were turned were ever saved. She barely remembered the truth from Withers as the wizard appeared at her side with a frothing glass of ale.

"Thank you," She chuckled.

Rolan nodded to her politely as he stood with her. Silence filled the air as he studied the area with her. He smiled softly. "Maybe…sorcerors aren't all bad."

"Oh?" She snickered. "What makes you think that?"

"Well, you managed this, didn't you?" He gestured to the city around him. "Saved it. Not bad for someone who can barely hold a flaming sneeze."

"It was one time!" She groaned, blushing as she laughed.

It was when they'd first met. Dirt had shifted from the cave ceiling and landed on her nose while talking to him. Rolan went to help dust away the debris, feeling pity for her, until she sneezed and flames came pouring out, burning his robe.

"You apologized about…a hundred times?"

"More like five hundred," She corrected as he grinned at her. Tav smiled as she felt his tail brush against hers as she moved closer. "You never did forgive me."

Rolan blinked. "I didn't?" He asked, heart jumping.

His tail twitched against hers. Slowly, they intertwined until they were wrapped around one another intimately. Her shoulder pressed against his as they stood closer.

"Yeah. You called me…ah, what was it?" Tav hummed, tapping her finger to her chin. "A hellspawn of blackened magic?"

Rolan groaned, laughing at himself in embarrassment. "It was rather…harsh," He confessed.

"Harsh?" She laughed. "It was the cutest thing ever said!"

He groaned as the woman teased and laughed, tightening her tail around his. He looked at her when he felt the weight of her head on his shoulder. A warmth spread through him as he took in her scent.

A smirk played over his lips. "You thought that was cute?" He leaned closer to her, eyes flicking to her lips. "I was trying to insult you."

"Keyword being trying," she chuckled, meeting his gaze.

She smiled nervously as she studied him. His eyes turned almost a molten gold as he watched her. A shiver ran up her spine when his tail rubbed and nervously squeezed hers.

Her heart jumped as she realized they both leaned in. "Rolan."

He gulped thickly at her breathy voice. "Yes?" On the railing, his fingers threaded with hers as their mugs of ale were forgotten.

"I…" 

Her words were lost as they stared at one another. Like a unified mind, their lips connected. The kiss was gentle and careful. 

His mind felt like a magic buzz as their tails tightened and lips locked. The taste of ale on her lips was enough to make him move closer.

Before he was fully aware of his actions, he had her against the balcony railing, kissing her deeply and cradling her face.

Her breath quickened as his scent filled her nose. His musk made her head spin with desire. Tav wrapped her arms tightly around him as they kissed, their bodies pressing against each other. 

She felt the heat from him radiate through her as they held each other in the darkness. His tail snaked its way around hers as his hands gripped her suddenly.

The kiss intensified until she was writhing against him. Finally, she broke the kiss and whispered, "We need a room. Now."

Rolan nodded eagerly. "Y-Yes. Yeah." His eyes darted everywhere, trying to think of the quickest route.

There was a blur of passing people, laughter, and drinks before he finally found himself pushed against the door of the room she was renting at the inn. His hands scrambled to touch her, gripping her rear as he pulled her up his body for a deep kiss.

His mind grew hazy as his tail twitched. He grunted and pressed himself against her. She could feel his hardness against her stomach through the robes and layers of clothing.

"Use your words, Rolan," She ordered, nipping and biting at his neck. "What d'ya want, Wizard?"

"You," He breathed against her horns. His lips brushed and scraped gently as he pressed against her again.

She watched his tongue dart over his lips before cupping his face and pulling him close. Her tongue licked gently at his. She swallowed his moan as his hands tightened on her hips.

Tav hummed and gripped his horn gently. His vision blurred as the drink made it hard to steady himself. She had moved so quickly. He blamed that she was likely using a spell to overpower him as she pinned him onto her bed.

She straddled his waist and tore off her shirt. His eyes widened as he took her in.

She was covered in scars from battles long past and bruises from her recent. She was still wrapped up in bandages. His hands hesitated as he made to touch her.

What if I hurt her? He wondered briefly as he traced the curve of her body with his eyes.

"If it's not attractive…"

His eyes widened. She was scared. Her body trembled as he hesitated and he let out a breath that sounded like the word "Beautiful."

Tav's cheeks heated when his lips found the scar over her chest. A slash from a goblin when they'd first met. She was lucky to survive. His tongue over the long mark made her shiver against him.

"Scared I'll hurt you," He admitted, kissing up her collar.

She smirked and nipped his ear gently. Her fingers gripped at the tie in his hair and pulled it out. "Trust me. You can't hurt me," She muttered, rolling her hips to grind down on his hardening cock.

Her eyes were focused on him as she toyed with him. She studied the way he whimpered and breathed shakily against her neck. His hands kept flinching and grabbing. Unsure.

"Rolan," She whispered. "Do you need me to take control?"

"Fuck, please," He begged. "Please, Tav. I…"

His face felt hot as she cupped his cheeks. Her thumbs rubbed soothingly as he trembled. He was unsure of how to voice his inexperience but he knew he wanted this. He had been wanting it since he met her.

"Fuck. Too hot," He muttered, sitting up. With her help, his robes were tossed away and she tore off his shirt. 

Her chest pressed against his as she kissed him. He whined as he gripped her waist.

Tav nuzzled him. "Let me take care of you, Puppy," She teased gently.

He shuddered as his cock twitched in his pants. He bit his lip when she kissed down his body. With wide eyes, he watched Tav's tongue dart out to his stomach.

She hummed at the taste of him, watching the way he panted and shuddered. Her sharp teeth gently pressed against his hip as she tugged his pants down. Her fiery eyes found his as she pulled slowly.

His heart hammered at the slow drag as he was finally stripped down. His cock ached as she eyed him hungrily. She groaned at the ridges along his length and licked slowly from his base to tip. Her eyes locked onto his as she shuddered and settled between his thighs.

Tav smirked as her tail flicked behind her as she continued to lick and tease the wizard's cock carefully. She studied his reactions, pressing and stroking her tongue carefully. Finally, she caved and took him into his mouth.

The taste of his salty tip against her tongue had her moaning softly around him. She loved the weight of him on her tongue. She relished in it even. 

"So thick," She murmured as she pulled back so only the tip was in her mouth. "Rolan, you taste so good."

He whined and whimpered as he watched her bob her head slowly along him. He whimpered and shuddered. "Fu…Never thought…this would ever happen. Gods," He whispered.

Tav's tail twitched as her hand gripped at the tip of his tail. Her eyes widened when he bucked his hips up, slipping quickly into her throat.

At her choke, he pulled back, apologizing until her nails dug into his hips. With a dark look in her eyes, she sucked him down.

His mouth hung open when her lips suctioned around his base, tongue rubbing along his ribbed shaft. He let out a breath and whimpered as his back arched up.

Her tail began to slide along his again, rubbing and teasing gently as she held his hips in place. His eyes darted to watch her pull back just enough to allow him to move. At her twitching hands, he bit his lip as he gripped her horns.

Tav gave him an encouraging hum and he began to thrust slowly. Her eyes watched as the wizard shuddered and thrust into her mouth. He was near babbling as he began to grow more intense.

She rubbed his thighs, encouraging him as she let her mouth hang open. She could feel his tip bumping against the back of her throat as he gripped her horns harder.

He blinked as he heard her moan and looked down. Sure enough, her hand had slid down the front of her trousers. He moaned as he watched her touching herself with his cock in her throat.

"Mmffuck," He stuttered, twitching in her mouth. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Tav grunted when he shoved himself fully into her throat. She felt him pulsing and pumping his load into her throat. She choked and coughed a bit, blushing when she felt it leaking from her lips.

"Oh gods," He whispered at the sight as she pulled back slowly. "I'm so–"

He froze as her fingertips pressed to her lips. She gulped twice before licking her lips clean with a pant. With a lovely twist of her lips, she stood and stripped down. His eyes fell over her frame again and he bit his lips.

"I'm dreaming," He finally breathed as he looked at the ceiling.

That had to be it. She was an illusion of his mind. He was delirious from the alcohol. He was moaning her name as she rubbed her folds along his length.

"Not dreaming. Rolan, I'm gonna fuck you until you're howling like the adorable puppy you are," Tav groaned as she slid her tail around his.

The gesture was intimate and made Rolan whimper softly. He still couldn't help but think he was dreaming. A dream he never wanted to wake from as Tav slid down his cock.

Their moans melded together, tails tightening around one another carefully. Tav's claws dug into his chest as she rocked her hips quickly. It was like she was manic and desperate to feel him.

Rolan's mouth opened in a pitiful moan as she kissed his neck and licked his ear. "Tav!" He grunted, biting his lip as he gripped her waist.

"Go on, Sweetie," She moaned. "Touch me where you like. It's okay."

With her permission, he began to let his hands wander. His thumbs grazed over the ridges on her ribs. Her body rolled under his hands, dragging herself along his length.

"Gods above," He whined. "I–Fuck…"

"That's a good boy," She moaned, tail tightening around his as her clawed hands gripped his hair. She was thrusting herself harder now, making him choke and moan. "Like that? Like being fucked like this?"

"Yes, oh fuck yes!" He sobbed, hands tightening around her waist. He bit his lip and dove his head down.

Tav moaned softly as he bit her shoulder and neck as his hips pulsed upward. "That's it, puppy," She whined. "Just feel good f'me. Just want you to come in me already. Fill me with your cute pups."

Rolan's brain shut off with those words as he gripped her hips tight. His hips jutted up into her as he growled and moaned.

Vaguely, he felt something in the back of his mind screaming at him to pull her off him. But as she slammed down with finality, he was lost.

Her sweet moan of his name, hips rocking still, sent him over the edge. His claws dug into her ass as he pumped up into her, panting and whining.

"Fuck, Tav," He whispered before she fluttered his neck and jaw with kisses. His eyes fluttered as he panted and held her to him.

Tav kissed his ear. "Mine," She whimpered.

A small smile spread over his lips. "Yours…all yours."

He settled slowly, shaking still as she adjusted. Tav smirked down at him and he blinked. "What–Ah~" He moaned as she rocked her hips.

"Rolan," She hummed softly. "You're still hard. Makes me wanna see what you look like when you're too lost. Too into it. Too desperate for me."

The wizard bit his lip as he watched her and nodded. "Please. Please keep riding me."

"Make me."

#rolan x tav #bg3 rolan #bg3 smut #bg3 fic #tav x rolan #sorceror tav #tiefling tav #bg3 tav

[matt-erialgirl]

“Did you hear me?”

Idk why tumblr keeps eating asks im trying to post

This one was an anon asking for A-15 because they love hurt comfort 🥺

First of all, thank you for celebrating with me, i love you ♥️

Second, not sure if this qualifies as hurt comfort but it’s definitely fluff and the prompt was perfect for this!

I hope it’s good!!

A-15: “did you hear me?”

Etmph

Etmph

Matt’s eyes fluttered open, head tilting  to face the bathroom door as the soft, muffled sound continued, followed by a ragged gasp of breath before it started up again. 

“What is that?!” He mumbled sleepily, confusion lacing his voice as he got up and went closer to the door.

“Ugh, fuck me,” he heard you groan softly before he heard what sounded like tissue paper getting thrown angrily into the bin.

“Sweetheart?” He called out with a knock at the door, “are you okay?”

You were, in fact, not okay. 

On the other side of that door, you were pacing in the tiny bathroom, your palms digging into your forehead and pulling down your face in frustration. Your brain felt like mush, your vision was blurry with tears, your throat was scratchy and, worst of all, you couldn’t stop sneezing. 

“I’m fine, yeah!” You called back as enthusiastically as possible, too embarrassed to even have him see you like this, “Did you hear me? I’m so sorry I woke you. Go back to bed, I’ll be out in a bit. 

Out in a bit, my ass. I’m going to die in here. 

It was the changing of the seasons, you knew it was. You were used to the terrible reaction to the pollen, the dust and the humidity and it usually passed after a couple of days. But Matt had never seen you go through one of these allergic episodes and you didn’t want to change that. It was embarrassing to you. So, as soon as you felt that tickle in your nose, you scrambled out of bed and into the bathroom, where you stifled the sounds of your sneezing as much as you could and willed the nasty reaction to stay at bay. 

To your dismay, the sneezing continued. Your body hurt with the effort of stifling them and how harsh each sneeze felt. They rattled your bones and shook your brain in your skull. You felt like your eyes were about to pop out of their sockets with the force. 

“Darling, open up,” Matt insisted, your heart stopping every few seconds terrifying him, “something’s wrong and you need to let me help you.”

“You can’t,” you called out to him, your voice nasally and congested now, making you wince, “just please stop listening.”

Matt frowned, his concern increasing with your request, “open the door.”

“No, I—”

“Open it.”

He waited and listened for the click of the lock, followed by the door being pulled open. Before either of you could say anything, another sneeze that you did your best to stifle ripped through you. 

“Darling, are you sick?” Matt asked, a sympathetic look on his face as he reached out to touch your forehead, “why are you sneezing?”

You sighed audibly, watching him listen to your body. He could hear the low whistle of your breath in your nose and the static-y sound in your chest with every inhale and exhale. You waited, not wanting to interrupt his assessment as his palm travelled to your back. He could feel your breath rattling inside you, taste the salt in the air from your tears.

“What are you allergic to?” He asked quietly, almost asking himself as he thought about it thoroughly. He was quite careful himself with scents and other allergens because of how sensitive he already is, so Matt was easily at a loss for what was doing this to you.

“It’s the weather, Matty,” you breathed out, cradling his face in your hands, “I get really sick this time of year.”

Before he could get a word in, you ripped your hands away from his cheeks to wrap your arms around your head and sneeze into your elbows. Again, you stifled it as much as you could.

“Are you…” Matt said, tilting his head as he paused, “are you keeping them in? The sneezes?”

“No,” you answered quickly, your N sounding nasally, “I’m not.”

“Baby, I know when you lie,” Matt rolled his eyes, a smile tugging on his lips as he pulled you closer, pushing your head down against his chest, “why were you hiding in the bathroom? What’s going on?”

“I didn’t want to wake you up,” you mumbled, fingers pinching the fabric of his t-shirt to distract yourself from the itch in the back of your throat.

“And…?” Matt urged expectantly, his fingers combing through your hair soothingly.

“And it’s embarrassing,��� you finally admitted, your voice small and muffled against his chest as you pushed your face flat against him, almost as though you were trying to hide.

“What?” Matt asked, incredulous, pulling back to force you to look at him, “embarrassing? Darling, how can this be embarrassing?”

“Well, for starters,” you began, pulling away from him and rubbing at your nose in frustration as you seeked some tissue paper, “I sound like Donald Duck—”

“You don’t sound like—”

“Matty — yes, I do,” you sighed, blowing your nose lightly as you turned your back towards him, “now you’re lying. I sound like Donald Duck, I actually sneeze like Dumbo and I can’t stop gasping for air like an eighty-year-old ex-olympic swimmer who thinks he’s still got it.”

Matt just smiled the softest smile you had ever seen on his face, his features sweet, inviting. He reached out to pull you into his chest once again, his palms running in soothing circles against your back as your breath continued to come out in uneven puffs. 

“Stop holding your symptoms back,” Matt spoke, his tone reassuring, “I can hear the effort behind you stifling your breath and your sneezing. Let them go.” 

You groan before throwing your head back and pulling a much needed deep breath in through your nose, only to find the all too familiar burning behind your eyes and tickle in your nose. 

“Fuck,” you whined, quickly turning away from Matt and doubling over in a loud, unbridled sneeze. 

“Christ,” Matt breathed at hearing your first proper sneeze around him, “are you okay?”

“What do you think?” You replied, embarrassment heating up your skin.

“Come with me,” Matt mumbled quickly, an idea springing into his head. He wrapped his hand around your own and pulled you with him towards his kitchen.

“What are we doing?” You asked, curiosity lacing your congested voice as Matt lifted you off your feet and sat you down on the counter, right next to his stove top.

“Have you ever breathed in steam to clear your sinuses?” He asked, pulling a small saucepan from one of his cupboards and filling it up with water. 

“I haven’t in a long time, but yeah,” you answered, watching him place the pan on high heat to get the water up to temperature before digging into a drawer for something else, “It doesn’t help with these allergies though, does it?”

“It does for me when I pass the florist down the street and catch some of the pollen in my nose,” Matt smiles, pulling a small dropper bottle out of the drawer he had been digging in, “plus, I have a secret ingredient.”

You watched silently as he twisted the cap of the bottle, squeezed the rubber at the top and emptied the drops into the now simmering pot of water. 

“That was some eucalyptus oil,” Matt explained as he lowered the heat to keep the water at a gentle rolling simmer, the scented steam starting to hit the side of your face gently, “it helps clear things up. Now, I want you to lean over the pot and inhale the steam as much as you can through your nose.”

Matt’s hands rubbed at your back gently as you twisted slightly to face the stove top, leaning your head over the simmering pot.

“Careful,” he breathed, waiting for you to settle in your position before drawing his hands away, “I’ll go grab a towel and come back.”

You nodded, seeing him leave your side and smiling to yourself as you drew in a breath. It was smaller things like these that really had you unbelievably head over heels for this man. The gentle words, the caring actions and the loving touches. You were in love with him, always, but moments like these always made your heart swell in your chest a little extra. He gave you love in a way no one else ever had. And he could say the same about you. 

#Matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fic #daredevil x reader #daredevil fic #matt murdock fluff #daredevil fluff #1.1k celebration

[drmflm]

—summary: when he was with you, even in the cobwebs of a dusty antique shop, you would always find a reason to smile.

—pairing: hongjoong x gn!reader

—wordcount: 758

—genre: fluff

—au: antique shop

—rating: g

—warnings: none!

—note: i wanted to get this posted for joong’s bday, but i got so busy this week there wasn’t a good time to post it 😭 i hope y’all will accept this late bday present 🥺💗

—masterlist | directory

The jangly bell hanging above the rickety door startled you when you first walked in. The air smelled musty and old—the type of scent you associated with old age homes and the elderly, a nostalgic promise of ancient wonders. This was not your typical area of expertise—rather, you and your boyfriend preferred to spend the days in cozy cafés and shopping centres filled with bustling people and pop radio tunes.

Yet, antiques of all kinds were displayed in ever flat surface of the room. Dusty tapestries lined the walls, and orchestral tunes rang from a record player. Sat behind a glass case was a woman who looked twice as old as the painting behind her—a yellowed and wrinkly canvas of smile lines and snowy hair.

Hongjoong’s reaction was immediate. He sneezed upon entering, and at his blatant allergies, you giggled, handing him a tissue from a bejewelled antique tissue holder, continuing on into the disorderly space to find a new—or rather old—treasure.

The old lady at the counter didn’t greet you—perhaps it was because she could neither hear nor see your arrival—so you took it upon yourself to look around. You were directed by the many overhanging signs that said what section you were in. In some cases, where the piles of things were simply too high, you were able to take an educated guess based on whether there were fridges, clothing, or other miscellaneous objects around you.

Hongjoong eventually made his way to your side, where he picked up a dusty music box and consequently sneezed. You snorted at him before brushing it off and opening it, laughing even harder at the horrible screech of a tune it let out.

At that, you heard a shutter click, startling and turning towards Hongjoong, who had his phone out, painting at you. You didn’t mean to tense up, but you were startled and accidentally backed away.

In response, Hongjoong quickly put down his phone, immediately placing it on a dusty bookshelf, walking towards you with his arms extended, “oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I should have asked first, I’m truly sorry.”

You just blanked, “no, no, it’s okay. Why are you sorry? Pictures are meant to be memories, so if you have one of me smiling, then it means it’s a happy one. And if I can be a happy memory for you, well, then I am honoured.”

He pulled back, looking into your eyes intently, “I know, it’s just—I want you to know that I respect you and your privacy and that you always have the choice to say no.”

This was only another reason why your boyfriend was truly a marvellous human being. You could only grin wider, letting him bring you into a quick hug once more and letting go.

“I know, and that’s why I love you,” you replied, squeezing his hand gently. “But it’s okay to take pictures, I don’t mind at all. As long as you show me before you post them.”

“Of course,” he said with a grin and a wink, and you already knew he was going to post something silly later.

When he grabbed his phone off the shelf, dust coated his screen, making it so the entire way to the till, he was just a sneezing frenzy (and a terribly hilarious source of laughter).

So, he decided to go back outside to get some fresh air, and at this—while the old lady at the counter rung up your order—you looked at the music box in your hands.

And for the first time since you saw it, after brushing the dust off it once more, you noted how on the top of the box, a smiley face was engraved into the wood.

© 2022 svt117 . all rights reserved.

#kflixnet #ateez imagines #ateez x gn reader #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez timestamps #ateez au #ateez kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong scenarios #hongjoong fanfic #kim hongjoong imagines #kim hongjoong fanfic #gn reader #c;fics #c;all #g;atz

[straightupsickfics]

ahhh, this is just so cute to me, would love to see if for edstede 🥺 50. “You sneezed ten times today.” “Thanks for counting.” ty 💙

Ed's just finished cleaning up the kitchen when he hears the water turn off in the bathroom and makes his way upstairs. Meringue is parked in front of the window, gazing out into the dark, rainy evening, and Ed drops a kiss on her head as he walks by.

"M'going to check on your father. Don't let any intruders in, yeah?"

The cat just blinks at him before turning back to her post, which Ed takes as a silent agreement. He's not even all the way in their bedroom before he hears Stede sneezing.

He's been at it for most of the day, ducking to the side or muffling small, itchy fits into the sleeves of his sweater, mumbling apologies and blaming the weather, the dust from the cleaning they did, and laundry detergent, depending on the moment.

Ed had nodded along every time, though he's almost positive his husband's coming down with a cold. Always does, this time of year, and fall had come in quick this year, all cold, rainy, blustery weather, it's no wonder Stede's already sniffling and sneezing.

"Hh'Iiitshhh'uh! hH’dshh! iihTSHHhhue! Ngh..."

Ed enters the room just in time to see Stede lift his head from his towel, still sniffling. His hair hangs damp over his forehead, not yet dried into the curls Ed has become so fond of over the years, and despite the warmth of his shower, he still looks pale and shivery all over.

"Bless you!" Ed says, taking the towel from Stede and setting it down on the bed before pulling him into a hug.

"Oh," Stede manages, and sniffles again into Ed's shoulder. "Hi," he adds.

"Hi," Ed smiles. "You've sneezed like ten times today," he informs him.

"Thanks for counting," Stede sighs. "I've lost track at this point. Though I think it's going to be m-hh! ii'ddshhh! Much more than that sooner rather than later," he finishes, swiping at his nose. "Snf! Steam'b from the shower helped my sinuses a bit too much, I'm afraid."

"Bless you again, love," Ed says. He goes to his dresser and pulls out the sweatshirt Stede loves to steal, along with a pair of soft, flannel pants and hands them to Stede to pull on. He has to stop to sneeze twice more, though, and by the time he's dressed he looks ready to drop.

"Eh’SCHHuhww! hh’Ushh! Eii’ISHH!" When Stede sneezes this time, he aims them half-heartedly at his shoulder, shuddering through the fit and blinking up at Ed as he apologizes.

"Really can't stop now," Stede says, tiredly. He grabs a handful of tissues and dabs at his eyes and nose, both streaming now in equal measure. "I snf! think I'mb coming down with a cold."

"Think you're right about that. Poor love. Come here," Ed says, joining Stede on the bed and pulling him in against his chest. He's shower-warm and tired, sniffling against his shoulder, and Ed's suddenly, overwhelmingly glad the kitchen is clean, the lights are off, and the cat is occupied, because he isn't sure he could bear to leave Stede again while he's like this.

Stede smells like the citrus shampoo he loves, and like Ed himself, thanks to the clothes, and Ed can't help but love these moments, despite how bad he knows Stede will feel tomorrow and the next few days. He loves knowing that he's the only one who gets to see Stede like this: warm and sniffly and content to be held and fussed over.

"Better?" Ed asks, once they're curled up together in bed, Stede already half asleep on his chest, his hair soft and curly again now that it's had a chance to dry. He smiles when Stede just mumbles unintelligibly against him. Ed will take that as a silent yes, too.

#softersteve #of//md #my fic #they are #married #tiny cat au

[regularponyfan]

Thoughts on The Bad Guys: A Very Bad Holiday Part 2

“Christmas is officially back on!” And apparently, a city news reporter like yourself has the power to declare a holiday uncanceled. Why is Diane not in this again?

The others’ reactions to Snake getting all touchy-feely 🥹. OMG I WANNA HUG HIM SO BAD!!! (At the same time though, the close-ups on his face during this scene are so off-putting that it kinda ruins the moment for me.)

“That vortex is about to suck in the whole city, we don’t have time to be mad at me.” Sure, Wolf. Act like endangering your only friends isn’t worth getting angry over. You’ve really disappointed me this time. 😔

In all fairness though, at least he does apologize and admits how much the others mean to him. And I love how the other guys pretend to be disgusted but at the same time are moved to tears, while Snake is just like, “Yeah, whatever 😒.” (Even though we all know he’s bawling on the inside.)

The scene right after Shark is tossed out of the vortex without his shirt…the characters look like they’re literally floating off the ground…

That one random guy getting sucked into the vortex is actually pretty funny…in a “WTF is this animation?” kind of way.

“Are you seeing this?” No, Tiffany, all I see is your badly-animated face. Now please get it out of mine. XD

Aww, that’s adorable how the Bad Guys try to save each other from the vortex 😊…Now can we talk about the fact that the animators clearly just took still images of Piranha and Tarantula and moved them around?

How did Shark get his shirt back after all that?

Wolf’s motions as he’s falling out of the Santa bot…again, what is this, the Looney Tunes? Oh and nice dust effect when he lands by the way. I feel like this was made for a PlayStation 2 game, not Netflix.

Wait…so, the promo for this special clearly showed Shark in a Santa suit…but the closest we get to him cosplaying as Santa is him doing a voice. What. 😐

Oh, and since the Bad Guys were exposed to potentially-lethal, freezing temperatures, they all end up sick on Christmas. And Wolf has the gall to complain despite being the reason it happened. Just be thankful it’s only a cold and not frostbite, buddy.

In all seriousness though, I feel bad for them. Like, I wanna make them all better, but mostly Snake. He looks soooo miserable and I can only imagine how as a kid he must have had no one to take care of him when he was sick. That is so heartbreaking. And when he says “Bah humbug” in the middle of sneezing? Awww, poor baby! 🥺

Apparently, Santa really does exist in this universe and the Bad Guys are miffed that they ended up on his Nice List. Which…kinda seems out of character in all honesty. Like…wasn’t them being treated as something other than criminals the reason they turned good in the movie? They’re not disgusted by the concept of good (except maybe Snake); They just don’t understand it. Now I see why people had a problem with this being set before the movie.

And we end with the Bad Guys planning to heist the North Pole…which would have made a much better, much more interesting holiday special. If this does become a series, I hope they make an episode out of that.

And before we get to my final thoughts, let’s see which of my predictions for the special came true:

There will be at least one reference to the Grinch-✅ Yep! And a Die Hard reference, too, surprisingly.

The gang will have a Christmas tree with stolen jewels for ornaments-❌ Nope. I don’t think they had any decorations in their hideout or at least none I could see.

Wolf will get a good tingle from saving everyone’s Christmas-❌ Nope. The opposite happened. He apparently hates the idea of being seen as good now. 🤨

Shark will be a mall Santa-❌ We don’t see him in a mall and the only likeness to the man in red he gives is his voice, so I’m gonna say no.

Piranha will have a holiday-themed musical number-✅ Got that one!

Someone will call Snake a “Scrooge”-❌ Nope. He acts like him and even says “Bah humbug,” but no one outright calls him that.

Also, Snake will secretly hate Christmas because of some past trauma-❌ They don’t say or even imply it, but let’s be honest: we know he has some form of trauma from Christmas.

Diane will only have a cameo-❌ Sadly, no. They were determined to keep her out of this special, apparently.

Luggins and Tiffany will return-Well, this one is half right.

The Bad Guys will have a gift exchange with stolen goods-❌ Nope. Go to luonnonvalinnat for that one ‘cause you ain’t gonna find it here.

Final score: 2.5/10. Wow. Either I don’t know the Bad Guys as well as I thought, or the creators of this potential series don’t know how to write them. Eh. I’m going with the latter.

As for the special itself? It's a 5/10 for me.

Don't get me wrong, I'm glad we got to see the gang again and I'm even more glad we might get to see their shenanigans in a spinoff series some day. And even though it was kinda dumb and there was potential for it to be even better, I didn't mind the story that much. The voice acting is good enough, even if I don't recognize anyone's name except Grey DeLisle. It's the ANIMATION that really kills this thing for me. My god, what a trainwreck. Like, no joke, there were several times throughout this thing where I just wanted to look away because the characters were just...so ugly! I get that this is the result of a low budget, and they couldn't make it as fluid as the movie's animation. The problem, of course, is that the animation in the Bad Guys movie is SO beautifully fluid, even removing like 1% of its fluidity makes it look terrible. They probably should have done what Captain Underpants did and just made the whole thing 2D. At least then it would have looked somewhat appealing.

I don't know, if you haven't seen this special yet and are curious about it, I say just buy the novelization instead, because this alone is not worth a subscription to Netflix. Plus, the novelization includes a bonus chapter of the Bad Guys on New Year's, so there's that. And if you have seen the special, let me know what you guys thought about it. Did you agree with my points? Is there anything I didn't comment on? Let me know that, too.

#the bad guys #dreamworks #mr shark #mr piranha #mr snake #mr wolf #ms tarantula #tiffany fluffit #netflix #netflix series #holiday special #a very bad holiday

[azlrse]

To anon that got allergic rhinitis.. I have it too 😭

Actually, I've had it since, well, forever 🥲 It runs in my family, and I got it from my dad!

I know how it feels, because trust me, I always need to have a pack of tissues with me. And my sneezes aren't the 'quiet' ones either, which makes things worse 😭

Just make sure you avoid stuff like pollen, dust, or whatever you're allergic to! Because it will irritate the nose and make you sneeze 🤧 it's really annoying when it happens to me-

That's why I always change my bed sheets and stuff, because I try to avoid dust 😅

Expect a runny nose, watery (or red puffy eyes) and a lot of sneezing!!

Drink a lot of water and eat well, anon <3

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Also, bestie ✋ I'm glad we share the same love for Diavolo and Beel 🥺

Like seriously they're so cute (❁´◡`❁)

I always try to get cards of Beel when I pull in nightmare bc I love him sm, my brothers seems to like him too haha 🥰

I agree with you, bestie. Make sure to have some rest anon <33

Same here, I would always try to get his cards for his devilgram and same goes for Belphie because I love him as much as I love Beel (even when he tried to kill us in story mode-)

#❥ spilling the tea with azalea *.✧ #lovely mutuals #lovely moots 💕

[creaturedom]

27 for Beto…? 🥺

BETO, MY BELOVED?

It’s been far too long for one of my favorite boys, so anything for you Anon 🧡

27. Reading Together - Beto and Lucas

It’d been a rather long day at work. While Beto always loved helping out where he could the day just felt like it dragged on so much longer than it should have, and it didn’t help that he’d picked up more shifts the week before to help out the new employees gaining their footing. For any other man this would have been Hell to wake up and repeat all week, but the now drained man had a little trick up his sleeve for motivation.

“Beto, welcome home!” His heart always skipped a beat when he heard that familiar voice. Rounding the corner the shorter, brightly smiling Lu greeted the weary man with a gentle kiss on the lips. How long had they been together now, a few months? They got on like a house on fire, and while they hadn’t moved in together yet, it felt like it with how often Lu came over. “You ready to read more, I’ve been dying to see your reaction for the next chapter!”

Beto chuckled at that, sniffing back a bit as he playfully bumped Lucas’ forehead with his own. “You wouldn’t have to die if you just let me watch the movie with you instead, but if you’re promising cuddles and dual voice acting, theeen…” Lucas only smiled wider, leading Beto by the hand as he allowed himself to be taken to the bedroom.

Everyone got a chance to dress in their finest pj’s before hopping in, Lucas nestled into Beto’s side and propping up his rather bent but well loved copy of The Hobbit. Beto lazily put an arm around his shoulders as they began to read aloud together, something they started doing together a few months back. Started as a jab at the little mumbling Beto noticed when Lucas would get to more exciting parts, but the two quickly set into a routine, and now here they were. Though tonight it seemed Beto was a lot more out of focus.

Quiet sniffling and pawing at his face was making it hard to keep up with the lines on the page. His eyes felt rather puffy and the longer he tried to focus, the more he noticed a dull throbbing sensation in his head. Had he not taken enough breaks, running around with this constant brain fog all day? He perked up when he realized his boyfriend was staring, clearing his throat as he skimmed for whatever voice he needed to use. “Go back? No, not good at all! Sideways? I-Imposs…” Beto’s voice wavered as he drew a shaky breath, turning his head quickly to the side.

“I-Ihh— hihh, hih—Hih’ktsschxx! Hihh….. hITSCHHH! Ghuhh… S’cuse me, um: i-impossible! Go forward? Only thing to do! On we go!” Lucas blinked a bit owlishly but offered a gentle pat to his chest. “Geez, you been holding that in all day? Bless you babe.”

“Hah, maybe a bit. Where were we..?” He asked with a more watery sniffle, making the other pause but continue with his narration. Beto could feel the dull buzzing rising to a more fiery burn in his nose as he imagined the cold tunnels of the underground, the drip of water off in the distance and just how much Bilbo’s own head must have been swirling with questions as he once more drew a shaky breath.

“Gtschhhh! Huh’tschhhh!”

“Bless you! Those… Sounded rougher than usual, are you feeling okay?” Beto tried to nod but his nostrils were growing pink with irritation, his eyes screwing shut as he rocked with another set of powerful sneezes, three this time, leaving him with soft panting and a sympathetic hand rubbing at his chest. He watched in a daze as Lucas took the time to put the book down and feel at his skin, leaning in to the cool touch of his hands with an unconscious sigh. “You don’t feel warm, that’s good, but you’re looking a little pale… You doing okay babe?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, just a little worn out. We put up some new decorations before opening today, so maybe the dust j-just… Hah, I feel fine, what’s next? S-Something bout him seeing a l-lake, or…” Beto was lying, and it felt like his nose was punishing him for it. Sucking in another breath he put his head to the side again, gasping for air before exploding with “H-Huh’pTSCHhhh! Hih’tschHHhhh! Tsch, tsch, tSCHhh! H-Hah—! H’PTSCHHhhh!!” That managed to get his boyfriend to sit up again, now encouraging the more limp and panting Beto to do the same. He could feel the other squeezing him as a few more sneezes ripped out, eventually leaving the waiter limp and dripping in Lucas’ grasp.

“Oh hun, I think you caught something real nasty…”

“Lu I’b fide…” Beto winced as the stuffiness reared its ugly head, reluctantly accepting a few tissues offered from the now stern looking man beside him. “Nope, that tears it. I knew you were more sluggish this morning, I should have said something sooner! Poor thing, have you been feeling bad all day?” Ugh, his hand felt so nice brushing back the curls that bounced over his forehead, Beto couldn’t help but lean in to the comfort of it and close his eyes. “Kidda, but I… I thought I was just ready for the weekedd.” He croaked, the sympathetic hands cupping his cheeks with a sigh. “Now do I sound nagging for questioning the overtime? You’ve been working yourself to the bone… I love you, but I think it’s time to admit defeat.”

Beto looked mortified, but soon he found himself nodding, a bit of tears building at the corners of his eyes. Seeing this Lucas’ features softened significantly, peppering Beto’s face with gentle kisses. “Shhh, it’s okay, nothing to feel bad about. I’ll call Valencia in a bit to let her know, but you want anything? Some medicine, more tissues, maybe order some…” At first it looked like Beto was zoning out, but following his gaze the other soon found it was a look of longing and exhaustion, leaving him to chuckle softly.

“… You want me to read to you instead, help lull you to sleep?”

“Wha..? B-But it’s your favorite, I dod’t wadda sleep through it!”

“Which means I’ve read it a million times. I’ll stop the second you doze, cross my heart, so long as you lay back down and let me work my magic. Sound fair?” His question was answered with a thick sniffle and another sneeze, but like a white flag to the wind he simply nodded and got back into position. This time the shorter man settled a bit higher to let Beto rest his head on his chest before continuing, the rumble with each new voice and narration putting that lazy smile back on Beto’s face.

“I love your voices best, Lu…”

#creaturedom #sneeze fic #fall prompt #Beto #Lucas #cold #sneezing #haven’t written about these two in ages hopefully you like it LOL

[strwbrryblues]

Saddest Realization

Pairings: Lee Minho|Lee Know x GN!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Kinda Angst?, Established relationship

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: Cursing, Minor argument

A/N: Kind of a late present for our resident big meow meow 😞 I hope he enjoyed his day 🥺💗

Also kind of projecting my feelings at how I just realized I may be allergic to cats 😭 Been cuddling our cats so much, and I just thought that maybe it's not the dust that's literally making me sneeze for days but rather the cat hairs 😭😭😭💔💔

Anyway, this goes for people who may have cat allergies as well. Don't worry, we still have hope with hypoallergenic cats breeds😭

“Minho, stop being ridiculous.” You crossed your arms in front of the man who’s currently blocking your path to the front door.

“No. You’re staying here.” He was stubborn. Shaking his head disapprovingly, with his hands still clutching on to the doorframe of your bedroom. He wasn’t letting you out.

“Lee Minho, your mother is expecting us. We’re fucking late for dinner.” You were getting impatient. You glanced at your wrist watch to see half an hour has already passed since you were supposed to leave the house.

“I can just say you’re sick. I know she’ll understand.”

“What, and miss seeing your parents and the kids?” You clicked your tongue. You were not letting this opportunity to see the kids—Minho’s cats—slide. You missed the fur balls and you badly wanted to cuddle them upon arriving at his parents’ house.

“That’s the point!” Minho groaned. He finally free himself of gripping the door frame as he sighed exasperatedly. “I’m not letting you see the kids!”

“Lee Minho, what the fuck?!” You were in disbelief. Never had Minho stopped you from seeing his cats. It was only happening now, and you were beyond frustrated and confused. “You’re not letting me, because?”

You wanted an explanation to why he’s suddenly doing this.

“It’s because you’re allergic to cats!” He was wildly gesturing in the air, further showing his frustration to the events unfolding.

Cat allergies? You doubt you had one. This was a first, and you found it utterly ridiculous.

“I don’t have cat allergies, Minho. Stop making up things.” You crossed your arms, unimpressed at his excuse.

“Don’t give me that look!” He answered, frustrated. “You really are allergic to cats!”

“When the fuck did I become allergic to cats, Minho?”

“I don’t know! Maybe since birth,” he was unsure of his answer. But there was one thing he was sure of. “You literally sneeze horribly after cuddling the kids, Y/N. Now tell me that’s not an allergic reaction.” He crossed his arms at you.

“No! I don’t sneeze!” You denied. You don’t remember having any of those reactions after seeing any of your friends’ cats.

“Y/N,” Minho said in a quiet tone. He approached you, grabbing on to your shoulders as if he’s about to shake you out of your reverie. “You’re allergic to cats. Your eyes literally water so much after sneezing. And you say your nose itches a lot.”

You tried hard to think; only then did it click. It sometimes took you days to get over the sneezing after having a visit at Minho’s childhood house. But you never had those reactions when you cuddled some of your friends’ cats.

“But…” You suddenly looked sad as you looked for words to say. “I didn’t sneeze so much when I cuddled some of my friend's cats.”

“Y/N, they may have a cat that’s a hypoallergenic breed. Maybe someone in their family is allergic as well.” He calmly told you, letting you absorb this fact you’ve just realized.

Suddenly, everything felt like a lie. You were absolutely devastated with the news.

If there was one thing you loved that could rival your love for your boyfriend—slash fiancé—it was your love for cats. And for this information to only surface now, it upset you so much.

You could have accepted it if you found out about it in your childhood days; in that way you could have avoided cats. But you grew so attached to the creature, upon growing up, that you wanted to cry upon realizing now.

Actually, you really were crying now. “Hey, hey,” Minho hushed, as he pulled you into his arms.

The man wanted to tease you so much for suddenly crying, but he refrained himself from doing so. It was also how you cried that upset and saddened him as well. He saw how you were in love with cats—the same as he—and so he empathized you; because, he himself thought, that if he was the one who lately realized he had cat allergies, he’d be devastated. That means no Soonie, Doongie, and Dori for him. That thought almost made him cry.

“Come on, don’t cry now.” He gently hushed, brushing his fingers through your hair in comfort. “It’s still a hunch of mine; we can check with a doctor to see if it is true. If it really is, I’m sure it’s not a fatal one. It’s only sneezing, and you really didn’t have breathing problems or rashes—as far as I’ve observed, so I’m sure there’s still hope.” He comforted you.

You did find comfort in his words. Still, you really can’t help but be sad at this thought. “Was that why you always avoided the topic of us getting a cat at home?” You lift your head up from where it rested on Minho’s chest. Your tear-stained eyes looking at him questioningly.

“Uhm...Yeah, kind of.” He nervously chuckled.

You hit his chest. “And you didn’t bother telling me earlier.” You glared at him, kind of mad at how he only told you now.

“I’m sorry,” He chuckled lightly. “We’ll check in with a doctor tomorrow. And if it’s confirmed, we can get you a hypoallergenic breed.” He rested his forehead with yours.

You smiled at that. He knew how to make you smile, but then again, “But what about tonight? We’re supposed to see your parents and the kids.” You suddenly felt sad again. You really hoped to see Soonie, Doongie, and Dori after months of not being able to do so.

Minho thought for awhile. He missed his parents, and cats as well, so he really can’t miss out on the semi-annual visits. But he also can’t leave you all alone at home while he went back to his hometown.

“You can wear a mask. It can help so you don’t breathe some of the cat furs up close.” He suggested. “I really don’t want to leave you here alone.”

You smiled once more. “Sounds like a plan, then.” You left a short kiss on his lips as you two finally made your way out of the house, with Minho sending an apology to his parents how you two would be running late for dinner.

-----

© October 2021, strwbrryblues. All rights reserved.

#skz lee know #skz lee minho #lee know x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids lee know #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #skz imagines #skz fluff #skz lee minho x reader #lee minho x reader

[suddencolds]

this is super random but i'm bored so, have this little hc T-T i feel like gorou would have a really sensitive nose since he's a dog? as we found out in the world quest, he can smell fertiliser from a mile away so that makes me think he can be sensitive to really strong scents? things like dust, pollen, spices, nose boops etc. i also feel like he would have a really natural soft sneeze,, he wouldn't need to stifle cos they're naturally quiet?? sort of kittenish?? ironic tho as he is a dog ^^

Thank you for the headcanon!! 🥺 <3 I agree, I haven't thought much about Gorou, but I remember being surprised by how low/deep his English voice was (I'm not sure about other languages, but when he's released I'll definitely take a listen); it's definitely not the kind of voice I expected for him, but I like it! So I like the idea of having different aspects of his character be in contrast to each other (like kitten-ish snzes even though his design seems to be based off of a Shiba Inu)... also, deep voice + soft snz is like honestly such a cute combination 😭

I agree w him being sensitive to scents! (Maybe Kazuha would be as well)? I like to think that he'd sneeze in fits (quiet and breathy/soft, but also audibly ticklish)? Maybe like Kokomi, he would excuse himself briefly from his duties as a general of the resistance, just bc he's already resigned himself to the expectation that the effects of whatever allergen/irritant he's come across will last for awhile~

#ask

[pinkpastels113]

hellooo lil star 💫 3, 5, 16, 21, 24, 28 pls and thank you 😊

heyyy my bootiful mummyyy :DD

3. Do you drink the milk out of the bowl after the cereal is gone?

LOL there are people who don't? savages.

(but the milk is so sweet afterwards how could you not 🥺)

5. Did you learn a skill or get a new hobby during lockdown?

i joined the pp fandom during lockdown so i guess writing beca and chloe as regular characters in my fics and tagging with obnoxious tags on tumblr lol.

16. Ever told someone you loved them when you didn’t?

yes.

21. When’s the last time you cried?

i think a few days ago, i'm not sure. i actually try to forget the moments in which i cry bc i don't want to relive the experience and the thoughts that come with it and that had preceded it. it takes something very specific to make me cry for real. and that something is like a very sore and raw spot for me.

24. Do you have any allergies?

not from food, no. but i sneeze when it's springtime or when there's a lot of pollen or dust in the air haha. and when i wake up first thing in the morning and my body hasn't quite yet accustomed to the change in temperature.

(it's not cute, stawp it * angry heart emoji *)

28. What was the last thing you Googled?

LOL i knew someone would ask this eventually.

thank you so much for these ana! they were so fun and lovely :DD

#anastasia 93 daybidaylove #my bootiful mummy a #random asks #asks #personal

[straightupsickfics]

can you please write Sarah and Bucky tag-team caring for Sam who has a cold and just won’t rest?

oh, i just love this prompt, anon <3 so much that i ended up writing ~1.7k of Sam getting cuddles and soup 🥺

****

"Sammy, I love you, but please for the love of god, sit down," Bucky says with a huff, wrapping an arm around Sam's waist before he gets any further. "Take a break, alright?"

Sam's been on a cleaning spree all morning, sneezing into his elbow and sighing, trying to catch his breath. He gets like this when he's just getting sick: extra sensitive to dust and scents and even cleaning products, which means, yeah, he definitely should be taking a break right about now. The only problem is, of course, that Bucky's boyfriend is notoriously stubborn about things like that, and he's made it his personal mission to catch up on just about everything this morning.

"I'm fine," Sam argues immediately, though Bucky sees the way he winces when he swallows, knows that the sore throat will all too soon turn into congestion, more coughing, and the kind of relentless sneezing fits that always plague Sam when he's sick. It's a slow progression, but once it hits, Sam will be miserable, and Bucky's just trying to preempt all that.

"Don't make me call your sister. You know I'll do it," Bucky threatens, playfully.

"You wouldn't." Sam swallows again, winces again, then sighs. "I feel like a swallowed one of your damn knives."

"I sincerely hope you didn't," Bucky tells him. Then, in one fell swoop, he lifts Sam up and into his arms like he weighs nothing at all, and sits them both on the couch, Sam half on Bucky's lap, half on the couch.

"What is your endgame? You can't keep me here," Sam tells him. "We need food. I have to go grocery shopping, and you have to mow the lawn. It's gonna be like Little Shop of Horrors out there soon, there's been so much rain."

There's no rain today, though, and Bucky knows it's probably killing Sam not to enjoy the beautiful day, grabbing the boys for a day at the park, or whiffle ball, or a barbecue once they're done their errands.

"That's what things like Instacart are for," Bucky reminds him. "And I can't mow the lawn until you agree to take it easy today," he says petulantly. "And I'm afraid I just don't trust you to do that."

"I'm f-fine," Sam says firmly, pressing his lips together into a thin line before giving up and scrubbing at his nose.

"Something wrong?" Bucky teases.

"No," Sam says on a shaky breath, rubbing at his flaring nostril again.

"Oh," Bucky nods, "good, okay." He leans up and presses an impossibly soft kiss to the bridge of Sam's nose, smiling when Sam shakes his head as a sneeze shivers through him. He turns away from Bucky as his breath catches, pulling the collar of his shirt up and sneezing harshly.

"h’hhTCHUSHhh!"

"Bless you!" Bucky offers innocently.

"I hate you," Sam says, sniffling.

"You sure can try," Bucky shrugs, then presses a kiss to Sam's cheek in apology.

Sam rolls his eyes just as a knock sounds at the front door, following by the unmistakeable sound of Sarah Wilson.

"Anybody home?" She calls from the foyer, making her way down the hallway and into the living room where Sam is still half-perched on Bucky's lap. She rolls her eyes when she sees them, but laughs when Sam scrambles to remove himself from Bucky's lap, like a teenager caught by his parents.

"You really called her?" Sam asks. He looks between Bucky and Sarah, shaking his head in disbelief. "I am fine. I'm getting a cold, not the plague."

"Technically, I texted her," Bucky explains.

"And with you they're one and the same," Sarah reminds him. "Your man here is gonna go get the ingredient's for mama's vegetable soup. You can go ahead and act like I'm not here if it makes you feel better."

"Soup? It is eighty-five degrees out," Sam points out.

"Cooler in here," Bucky says. "Air conditioning, a gift of the modern world."

Sam clears his throat instead of arguing, and ends up coughing into his elbow for a good few seconds before looking up at Sarah and Bucky again, irritated tears shining in his eyes.

"You were saying?" Sarah asks, looking at Bucky and mouthing go before turning back to her brother.

"I can't believe you're ganging up on me," Sam sighs.

"Be nice to Sarah," Bucky says, kissing Sam on the cheek again. "I'll be back."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam says, but Bucky can see him starting to soften.

****

When Bucky gets back with the promised ingredients, along with Gatorade, Sam's favorite death by chocolate ice cream for later, and a thank you bouquet for Sarah, Sam looks like he's starting to feel every one of his cold symptoms.

He's stretched out on the couch, eyes half-closed as he pretends to watch a baseball game on TV. Bucky knows he's only pretending to watch because he can see the shallow breaths Sam keeps taking, knows that all of his focus is on stopping the sneeze that's currently tormenting him.

"Who's winning?" Bucky asks from the doorway, distracting him.

"Huhh! hhh’DTshh! Snf! Ugh."

"Bless you!"

"Thanks," Sam sighs. "Come here a minute?"

"Oh? Not mad at me anymore?" Bucky asks, smiling as he joins Sam on the couch.

"Still mad," Sam tells him, but there's no conviction in his voice. Besides, Bucky knows that once Sam can finally give in and admit that he's sick, he's soft as a marshmallow, seeking out attention and hugs the way he almost never does when he's healthy. Predictably, Sam wraps himself around Bucky as soon as he sits down, tucking his face into his neck and sighing, the sound congestion and warm on Bucky's skin.

"I missed you, too," Bucky teases, stroking the back of Sam's neck. It's warm from the pillow and soft as ever, and he just hugs Sam to him for a minute, enjoying the closeness despite the heat of the day.

"Sarah's starting on the soup," Bucky tells him finally. "She said she only trusted me to cut the vegetables, and she'll take it from here."

"Sounds about right," Sam tells him, rubbing at his face. He's starting to look tired and itchy all over. "She doesn't trust anyone with that recipe."

"Well, as long as it's not just me," Bucky says.

"Nah," Sam shakes his head. "You're family now, but you still gotta earn that kind of secret."

The words echo in Bucky's head, an unexpected rush of emotion catching in his throat. You're family now.

"I'll do my best," Bucky says after a beat too long.

"You're not getting weepy on me are you, Buck?" Sam asks.

"Nope, I'm all good now that someone decided they could finally relax."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam sighs.

"I'll go check on the soup, alright?" Bucky extricates himself from Sam's arms, smiling when Sam gives a little huff of disappointment. "I'll be right back."

The kitchen smells wonderful: warm and homey and just a little spicy.

"How's the patient?" Sarah asks when Bucky enters.

"Good, actually," Bucky tells her. "Watching baseball."

As if on cue, though, they hear the muffled sound of Sam sneezing. "uhhCHushh! Huh! TCHushhoo!”

"Bless you!" They call out in unison.

Sam's thank you sounds distinctly stuffy, though, and Bucky makes a face as Sarah stirs the soup.

"This'll be ready soon if you wanna pull down some bowls and grab some spoons. We can eat in the living room. Don't tell the boys though," Sarah smiles. They have a distinct No-TV-During-Dinner rule at the Wilson house, Bucky knows, and promises their secret is safe with him.

When they return to the living, bowls of soup in hand, Sam looks grateful to see them. He tugs Bucky down onto the couch beside him, murmuring something about body heat that makes Bucky laugh. He'll never go as far as saying he's like Sam like this, because he'd never want him to be sick, but he certainly doesn't mind this tactile side of Sam, who, once he stopped fighting, wants nothing more than Bucky to sit with him.

They eat the soup and watch the game, Bucky's metal hand resting on Sam's thigh, as they eat, though he reaches up and strokes his back when the spice and the steam start to make his nose run.

"Here," Bucky says eventually, getting up and grabbing a tissue box from the mantle and passing it to Sam. He takes it gratefully, apologizing as he blows his nose a good few times before taking another bite.

"Thanks for this," Sam says when they're done. He nods at the soup, but rolls his eyes when Bucky and Sarah exchange a conspiratorial look. "I still do not appreciate the covert ops that led to it, though," Sam adds.

"Covert ops," Bucky repeats, laughing. "You have a cold, baby, this isn't some top secret mission."

Sam's softens all over again at the casual use of the word baby, tucking his face into Bucky's shoulder.

"With that, I think I'll take my leave," Sarah says, standing. "Keep that up and you'll be sick next, lover boy," she warns Bucky. "I gotta go get the boy's from their friend's house. Call me if you need anything," she tells Sam.

"Thanks again," Bucky tells her. "Seriously."

"Any time," she says, disappearing down the hallway.

After she leaves, quiet settles between Sam and Bucky, the sun starting to sink lower in the sky as the day comes to an end. The living room is painted a soft yellow in the fading sun, and Sam's starting to look tired, his eyes half-lidded and sleepy.

"I'll clean up," Bucky says, "then we can watch something. Maybe that LEGO show you like."

"You like that," Sam points out. "But yeah, let's watch that. Cleaning up can wait, though, isn't that what you told me earlier?"

Bucky rolls his eyes, but nods. "Using my words against me I see," but he doesn't argue when Sam sniffles a few times, then rests his head on Bucky's shoulder, settling in as the judges tell the remaining contestants about this week's challenge.

Before long, Bucky knows, Sam would be asleep against him, snoring softly. He settles in, wrapping an arms around Sam's waist and tugging another blanket down from the back of the couch, covering them both as the TV plays softly.

#anonymous #my fic #sam//bucky #i love them so much i dont think you understaaaand 🥺

[straightupsickfics]

Could you write ironhusbands where Tony’s dust allergies are set off because he never cleans the house? Thank you!

oh no this is so cute, i love them so much 🥺

***

Tony hears Rhodey kick the door to the basement shut just as the fluttering itch in his nose builds to an unbearable level, and he knows that no amount of distracting himself will work any longer. He feels his eyes prick with tears as he brings his wrist to his face, just in time to muffle the��flurry of sneezes that hit him in quick succession.

“hh’HitSH! Iiiesh! H’Ushh!” 

“Bless you,” Rhodey says, appearing in the doorway and smiling at his husband, his arms still full of boxes of Christmas decorations. “Quite a few times, from the sound of it?”

Tony just shakes his head, the crawling itch still commanding all of his attention, before shuddering into another quick double. “UhhISHh! huSHhhieew!” 

They’ve been sorting through their vast collection of Christmas decorations, and between the boxes that have been collecting dust for nearly a year, and the fact that both of them tend to be pretty lazy when it comes to household chores, Tony’s been fighting off the building tickle in his sinuses for way too long. And now, it appears, he’s paying the price. 

“What’s getting to you so bad? Allergies?” Rhodey asks, setting the boxes down and rubbing Tony’s shoulder. Tony knows his nose is probably pink with irritation, and he can feel the allergic tears clinging to his eyelashes. 

Tony heaves a stuffy-sounding sigh and nods as he rubs at his nose again.

“Everything is covered in dust,” he mutters. “And we probably need to pick up some new lights,” he adds, gesturing to the mess of strands at his feet.

“Thought I heard a crash,” Rhodey says, scooping up the fallen lights and plugging them in only to find that Tony was right. One or more of them had broken in the fall, taking out the whole strand with them. “I was half prepared to see you hanging from the ladder, though,” he teases.

“That was o-one...Hh!...Eiish’USH!" The sneeze catches Tony off guard and leaves him sniffling wetly a few times. 

“Here,” Rhodey says, reappearing at Tony’s side with a handful of tissues. “You sound like you need these.”

Tony nods his thanks, blowing his nose and trying to clear out the persistent, ticklish feeling that wouldn’t leave him alone. They’d moved so many boxes and so much furniture that it really did feel like everything was covered in dust, which meant he’d be like this all... 

Tony’s nose twitches and he inhales sharply, taking a few quick, shuddering breaths, like just thinking about the amount of dust was enough to make him...

“S-Seriously Hh! Again? Huhh–uhhUShhiiew! HUSH’iiew! Iiiishh!” 

Tony snuffles into the tissues again, looking helplessly up at Rhodey. 

“Tones... bless you,” Rhodey says, rubbing his back. “Why don’t we take a break? Open the windows, for starters...” He leads Tony over to the couch, boxes and lights forgotten as Tony sniffles and shake his head.

“I always told you, sugarplum,” Tony sighs, pulling Rhodey down onto the couch beside him after he opens the windows, the chilly afternoon air blowing through the room. “I’m terrible at this whole domesticity thing. Can’t cook, can’t keep a clean house... Remind me again what you see in me?”

Rhodey just gives him a look, like, are you kidding with this? “Oh, so it’s flattery that we’re after here?”

Tony pouts. “It never hurts, sour patch.”

“It’s true, your cleaning skills leave something to be desired,” Rhodey says, which only makes Tony’s pout grow. “But there are plenty of redeeming qualities...” he says, smiling as he brings their lips together. “Let me think on it.”

#my fic #iron//husbands

[straightupsickfics]

I feel like 9 & 24 would be extra cute for winteriron 🥺 if you are inspired! Thank you sm :’))

It is extra cute for them 🥺🥺🥺

(Raking leaves/fall gardening and allergies)

“hh’TChiissh! Snf!” Tony rubs at his nose absently before reaching down to grab the last of the summer tomatoes from their garden. His pumpkins are already showing progress, too, he notices triumphantly. Bucky thought he was kidding at first, joking about turning their yard into a pumpkin patch, but Tony was determined, and even more so when he saw the amusement on Bucky’s face.

Before he can call out to Bucky about his progress, though, Tony’s nose twitches again, and he turns in an attempt to muffle the inevitable sneeze against his shoulder. “Uh’hihh… hetCHssh! tChSSHhh!” Tony’s eyes water with the force of it, but before he can lift a hand to his face to deal with it, he feels a hand at the small of his back. 

“Don’t rub your eyes, you’ll make it worse,” Bucky says, his voice warm and close to his ear. “That’s definitely allergies, doll,” he adds, when Tony turns around, eyebrows knitting together. Ah, that. And really, Tony should know this by now, has spent enough time in Indiana around this time of year to know that once late August and early September roll around, he should be picking up allergy medicine and tissues, and maybe spending a little less time outside. But... He looks wistfully at the garden. 

“I’m f-fine,” Tony says—or, well, tries to say. His breath trembles again and he has to lean away from Bucky as his nose tickles impossibly once more. “Uhh… huhh’EeiiShh! T’shh! Huh’ESHooo!”

“Bless you! Tony... come inside,” Bucky says, though Tony’s hardly listening, wriggling his nose and trying to get it under control again. 

“I’mb... Snf! Almost done,” Tony says, holding out the tomatoes. “These are the last of them. The pumpkins are starting to come in though.” He gestures, determined to show Bucky the progress he’s made on their little backyard garden, but suddenly it’s like everything hits him at once, the dirt and dust settling from where he’d disturbed it, the ragweed in the air... Tony’s nose gives another little twitch and he rolls his eyes, lifting his elbow to catch two quick, itchy Iiieeshh! Hd’tshh! sneezes against the soft cotton of his shirt. Bucky’s shirt, actually, Tony remembers. 

Bucky makes a sound behind him, soft and concerned, and Tony feels some of the annoyance melt away. 

“It’s just sneezing, Buckybot,” he says, leaning over and brushing his nose against Bucky’s, just lightly, but enough to make him laugh a little. 

“Yeah, but you’ll be doing that all night,” Bucky points out. “Did you take a Claritin, at least?” He shoots Tony a knowing look. 

“Okay, I might have forgotten,” Tony admits. “But look... Pumpkins!” His excitement is overtaken by a distinct itch in his sinuses, though, and he ducks away again, nostrils flaring. “Heh... uhhhIShhiiew! hetCHssh! EEiish!” He shakes his head when he’s done, his whole head buzzing and itchy now, and he has to keep sniffling, trying to rid himself of the persistent tickle.

“Bless you!” Bucky says again. He wraps his arms around Tony from behind, pressing his face into the cross of his neck. “If I tell you I’ll even carve the pumpkins with you once they grow, will you come inside and let me find the allergy pills?” He gives Tony his best pleading look, even though with the sun setting, his eyes watering like crazy, and Bucky’s arms around him like that, Tony hardly has any desire to argue. 

“I’m holding you to that,” Tony says instead, giving his nose another firm rub before letting Bucky lead them back inside. 

#softersteve #my fic #soft fall prompts #🥺🥺🥺 #winter//iron

[straightupsickfics]

Could you do 6&16 from the fall prompts for Steve&Tony?

6 + 16 / sniffles and hand holding ( 🥺🥺🥺)

What about a nice fall day in a used bookstore?

***

“Should we stop in?” Tony asks, pointing to the bookstore a block away. They both already know they will, though, they always do when they have days together like this. Breakfast at the small cafe they both love, to-go coffees, and long afternoons in The Book Trader, searching for well-loved, used books to add to their ever-growing collections. The weather is too perfect not to spend the day wandering through the city hand in hand. The sun is high in a nearly cloudless sky, and there’s a soft fall breeze giving off the first hint of a chill in the air. 

It’s as close to perfect weather as Steve can imagine, and he pulls his borrowed (or, okay, stolen from Tony) cardigan tighter around him as he nods.

They pitch their empty coffee cups into the trashcan outside the store and make their way in, around the winding path filled with boxes of books to be shelved, and make sure to say hi to the cat asleep by stairs. 

“Hi Oliver,” Steve murmurs, crouching down to scratch the black cat between the ears. He’s old, and doesn’t roam the store as much as he used to, but still keeps a watchful eye on the customers from his bed by the creaking staircase. Steve adores him, and since they can’t have a cat at home, he always makes a point to pet him. 

“That cat hates me,” Tony mutters as they finally make their way upstairs. He rubs at his nose, like just the idea of the cat is enough to irritate his sinuses. 

“No, he doesn’t,” Steve says with a laugh. “You can’t help that you’re allergic to him.”

“Hmph...” Tony huffs. Steve leans over and gives him a reassuring kiss on the cheek before wandering off to browse.

It’s not long before Steve hears quiet, muffled sniffles a few aisles over, though, and goes in search of his boyfriend. Between the cat downstairs, the grass pollen outside, and the dust on the shelves, it could be any number of things setting Tony off today.

He finds him rubbing at his nose in the horror section, looking distractedly at the shelves in front of him. Steve wraps his arms around Tony’s waist, hugging him gently in the dim lighting of the store. “Sounds like something is getting to you,” Steve says quietly.

Tony gives another damp sniffle before nodding. “Everything is getting to me,” he complains. He turns in Steve’s arms and he does look itchy, Steve can’t help but notice. His eyes are unfocused and watery, and his nose is already pink, like he’s spent the whole time rubbing at it. Steve pulls a packet of tissues from his pocket, holding it out to Tony. 

“Here, sweetheart,” he says, his chest going warm and fond when Tony takes them gratefully, shooting him a soft look and a muttered thanks before pushing his nose into a few of them. 

“Hey, didn’t you want this?” Steve asks, tugging on Tony’s hand as they continue to walk through the store. He holds up a battered copy of Stephen King’s Salem’s Lot like a prize. Tony likes the older, battered ‘80s copies of books like this, Steve knows, and he’s glad to have found one among the piles of books around them. 

Tony turns, a small smile playing at his lips as he nods. “It’s time for a reread, and Halloween’s coming,” he says. “Good eye, S-Steven.” Tony jerks his hand free as his nose twitches, bringing two crumpled tissues to his face and sneezing into them, quick and ticklish. “Heh! Hdt’tishh! Itsh! Hmpt’ush! sNF! Snf!” They’re quiet, mostly stifled into the tissues, but Tony’s shoulder shake with the force of them. Steve rubs gently between his shoulder blades.

“Bless you!” He presses a kiss to Tony’s shoulder when Tony just nods, rubbing at his nose again, then tucks Tony’s book under his arm with his own two before taking hold of Tony’s hand again. 

“I hate this,” Tony says, shooting Steve a watery-eyed frown. 

“I know. Come on, we can pay for these and get out of here, okay?” Steve says, leading them back down the stairs, past Oliver, and over to the cashier, a bored looking guy with a beard and an oversized sweater who looks up from his own book to ring them up. 

When they get outside into the crisp fall day, Steve watches as Tony squints in the sun for a minute before ducking his head to the side almost immediately, sneezing a good few times into his elbow. “Heh’ITSH! Uh...Huh? EEiish! Uh’TSHHiew! Itsh! Snf!”

“God bless you!” Steve says, linking their hands together again once Tony’s had a chance to blow his nose. “So sensitive today.”

Tony just looks at him, his nose flushed pink and his eyes still watering, and shakes his head. “Everything’s working against me today, Steven,” he says. He shivers a little in the afternoon breeze, and Steve shifts out of the cardigan, passing it over to him. 

“Here, this is yours, anyway,” Steve says, draping it over Tony’s shoulders. He smiles when Tony doesn’t put up a fight. “Come on, let’s go home, you can get started on this,” Steve suggests, holding up their bag of books. He has a feeling Tony’s too stuffed up and distracted for much actual reading, but he’s holding Steve’s hand, and curling in close as they walk, so he’s pretty sure an afternoon on the couch is definitely in their future either way.

#anonymous #soft fall prompts #the most self indulgent thing tbh #but here we are #my fic #steve//tony