#i have a lot of work to catch up on after getting covid

[ijwrsmff]

I really hope requests are still open, I adore Mihawk and I love when he’s portrayed as secretly caring, especially when he’s loving towards his wife in the stories that have him and AFAB reader.

I’m sadly sick with what I think is Covid and just trying to imagine how Mihawk would be like if he were to try to care for a sick wife that he loves. (Not necessarily with Covid lol) but with the aches and pains and having to rest and eat and drink healthy but her not wanting to be bedridden.

He is just. So husband material. And I hope you start to feel better soon ;-; sometimes when I'm sick, I like a nice little sick reader story with characters I love so I feel you XD Hopefully this helps a little bit ^~^

Word Count: 1,144

Of course you were sick. What wonderful timing. Mihawk was due to return today, after a week of traveling to hunt a notorious pirate. You were sure it was no big deal, he was the best swordsman in the world. It wasn’t hard for you to worry about him, but you trusted him. You knew the second the both of you got together, you would get married and he would burn the world to keep you safe. 

However he couldn’t exactly protect you from your own sickness. You don’t even know how you got it! Zoro and Perona weren’t even on the island, doing their own thing. You highly doubted those monkeys he trained were close enough to you in order to get you sick. No, this was just some freak occurrence, to get horribly sick the day your husband came home. Which was just your luck. You missed him so much, but you couldn’t be around him, knowing you’d probably get him sick too. 

When you heard him enter the front door, you tried to get up out of bed but your legs collapsed without even taking a few full steps. He heard it, always being perceptive and you heard his footsteps speed up until he had barged into your shared room. “Darling? Are you alright?” He took in your appearance, seeing the bags under your eyes and how much you shook in place from your position on the floor. 

“I see…you’re sick. I can call a doctor to come as soon as possible, until then I’ll make you food to help and-” He leaned down towards you, but you covered your mouth as you coughed. “What…are you doing?” He went to pick you up but you feebly moved his hand away from you. 

“You’ll get sick too!” Your eyes would have been wide with worry, but you could barely keep them open. “You can’t…you can’t get sick…” The words took what seemed like forever to get out, and you couldn’t catch your breath hardly at all. “You have work to do…I…I can’t…” You nearly collapsed on the floor, but he of course caught you. 

He gave you a reassuring smile, “I’ll nurse you back to health as much as I can.” Mihawk picked you up, and you didn’t have the strength to fight him. “If you think something like a sickness can prevent me from working, you haven’t much faith in me, do you?” He chuckled, as he made the joke that caused you to laugh quietly too.

“I’m…I’m sorry…I feel so weak…letting it get to me…” You muttered as he placed you back down on the bed. It was so cold…you were already bundled up, but reached for the covers anyway. He raised an eyebrow at that, and put the thinnest of the blankets over you as he placed a hand to your forehead. 

“And I’m also sorry, love. You have quite the fever, try not to overheat yourself.

I know it feels cold, but wearing such heavy clothes along with the large comforter would only agitate the fever more.” He rubbed your shoulders and you winced. Everything was just so sore. Mihawk was always so gentle with you, but especially in this moment. It wasn’t the first time you got sick, but this seemed worse than a lot of other times you had been through. “Don’t worry, in sickness and in health, remember?” 

He smiled, and when he went to walk away your arm reached out to try and stop him. “It’s alright, I’m just getting a rag to put on your forehead.” He held that hand that reached out to him, and placed a kiss on the top of it. The action always made you smile, and you could feel your eyes closing knowing he was there to help you. 

Like he said, he returned quickly with the soaked rag. He placed it carefully on you, and went back to rubbing your neck and shoulders. It was quiet, but not awkward. Serene almost, with only your occasional coughs to break the silence. His hands weren’t soft, but calloused from years of training and fighting. Even still, just because it was his hands, it still felt blissful to have them run up and down your sore body to try and ease some of the pains. 

“I’m sorry…I just feel so weak…” You muttered, eyes still closed. Though you sighed, partially because of the pains but also because of how safe you felt with his hands trying to alleviate the aches along your body. “I don’t…wanna stay in bed…” You tried to get up, but you were of course stopped as he carefully held you back down. 

“No need to apologize. You might be physically weak now, your brain is strong. Although a bit foggy.” He chuckled and ran his fingers along your scalp, in a soothing manner. “Even if you were weak…I want you to trust me as you always do. Let me be your strength. If you need anything, I’ll be right here to help you.” His eyes were adoring, and though your eyes were closed you could feel that warm smile from him, “If you need water, food, a massage, get out of bed, I can help you. You won’t be walking, but I can carry you where you wish to go.” 

“Thank you…I love you…so much…” You tried to open your eyes, but they closed again almost immediately. “Try not…to get sick…” It made him smile how much you cared. Though he couldn’t care less if he got sick. Especially if it meant him helping you to feel better when you were. You did try to open your eyes when you felt his hands leave you, only to return a few seconds later from beside you. 

“Getting sick would be worth it, if I can make you feel better for even a second.” He chuckled, and wrapped his arms around you. “I can help you feel warmer. But no big blanket.” He cradled you to his side and rubbed your arms and stomach. “I’ll be here by your side until you’re back to full health.” His touch was smooth, and soft. Anything to help you. 

You laughed, and muttered “Cheesy bastard.” Before falling asleep in his arms. He would always help, and be there for anything you needed. He could be halfway across the world, and still be next to you in a moment if you needed him to. You would always be his main priority, sick or healthy. It warmed his heart, to be there when you were sick. He knew you could be stubborn, and not follow a single doctor’s order if you didn’t want to. But regardless, he would make sure you were safe. 

Safe now, forever, and always. Anything for his dearest wife, that he loved more than anyone else in the world. 

#x reader #mihawk x reader #op mihawk x reader #fem! reader #opla mihawk x reader #request #one piece x reader #fluff #sick reader #sick! reader x Mihawk

[thevioletcaptain]

So I've been quiet on here a lot longer than planned.

The reasons are many. The reasons are varied.

The reasons are mostly fucking horrible.

Under a cut because it's long. Check tags for content warnings.

First was the expected absence: my parents came to visit me in Los Angeles over my birthday, so I spent the first half of October showing them around whenever I wasn't working a shift at my shitty department store day-job, or in class at UCLA.

Then, almost immediately after they went back to Australia, I got a second job working as a personal assistant for a composer. This was (and is) an extremely fun and rewarding job, but meant having one more thing on my weekly schedule, which was an adjustment.

Given that until halfway through last year, I'd been out of work since I immigrated in 2019, it took a while for me to get used to having so many concurrent responsibilities, and I'd just started to get a handle on things when I got sick right before the holidays. I took many covid tests -- all negative -- and eventually determined that it was just last year's strain of flu, which I hadn't managed to find time to get the shot for due to the aforementioned super busy schedule. I'm almost positive it was thanks to a particular customer at the aforementioned shitty department store job who coughed hard enough in my direction for their germs to get through my n95.

Anyway, last year's flu was a monster, and I spent a week in bed with a fever, then several more weeks being utterly drained and with a horrendous cough to match. It took a full month for me to recover, and then in mid-January, almost as soon as I started to catch up on all the things that had fallen behind while I was sick, things got bad, then good, then worse, then better, then much, much, much worse.

Basically, it starts with my dad being diagnosed with prostate cancer. He'd told me in October when they came to see me, but the surgery was scheduled for the tail end of January.

The surgery happened on a Monday, and it was a complete success. They got it all in one go. No chemo or radiation or further treatment needed at all. I spoke to him on the phone after he woke up, and he was in good spirits. Happy to have been given the all clear by his doctors.

I told him to watch Star Trek: Strange New Worlds & Evil while he rested up at home, because I'm writing specs for both this year and wanted him to be able to read them and know what was going on. He's the one who got me into sci-fi and horror, after all.

He went home.

He was home for two days.

He started feeling a bit rough on the Thursday. Short of breath. No appetite. Mum took him back to the hospital, just to be safe.

Turns out he'd had a mild heart attack. They couldn't figure out why. The echocardiogram didn't show any issues with his heart.

Then over the next couple of days, his breathing got worse. They took a scan of his lungs, and found that they were extremely inflamed. They'd given him covid tests but they came back negative. We told them about a work accident he had about 20 years ago, where a switchboard he'd been working on exploded in his face, and he'd suffered from inhalation burns among other things.

They thought that maybe something during the prostate surgery had caused irritation in his already damaged lungs, which put stress on his heart and caused the mild heart attack. He's never had any issues with his lungs since that accident, but they thought that maybe he'd just adapted to the damage over the years without realizing.

They kept trying different treatments to help his lungs heal. Nothing seemed to work. His breathing kept getting worse. They had him on as much oxygen as possible without intubating him, but it wasn't enough, so over that weekend they decided that they'd need to move him to another hospital with a more specialized lung unit.

When they were preparing to do that on the Monday night, he crashed. Another heart attack. Bigger, this time. They intubated him. Sedated him. Called my mum and told her to come in right away because things looked so bad.

But then he rallied. By the morning, though he was still sedated and intubated, the doctors were confident that with the right treatment at the specialized lung unit at the other hospital, he'd be okay. He was still in a rough condition, but stable. They transferred him to the other hospital.

He was given another covid test. This one came back positive.

My mum and brother called me once it was a reasonable time in Los Angeles to let me know what was going on, and the next day my brother booked me a flight back to Australia. I had to leave for the airport about five hours after my ticket was booked.

I got to Melbourne on February 1st.

For the next two weeks, dad was intubated, sedated, and in an isolation room. Every few days, they scanned his lungs again, and they were slowly improving.

Finally, he stopped testing positive, and was moved to a regular room in the ICU. Then he healed enough for them to extubate him and wake him up.

On February 13th, he was conscious enough to squeeze my hand when we went in to see him. On February 14th, he was conscious and capable of talking enough to ask a nurse in his ward to bring him his phone, and called mum first thing in the morning to wish her a happy Valentines Day.

Two days later, on Friday 16th, his lungs looked good enough on scans that they felt it was safe to do an angiogram, which they wanted to do just to double check that there weren't any issues with his heart that they missed with the echo.

They did the test. They found massive blockages. 90% blockage in one artery; significant blockages in two others.

Even though he'd barely recovered from covid, the blockages were bad enough that they scheduled him for open heart surgery on Monday 19th. They said without surgery there was a 100% chance that the blockages would cause another massive heart attack that he would not survive. They said there was about a 20% chance that he'd have complications, but only about 4% that they'd be serious/life threatening.

Like before, the surgery went well. Triple bypass, in the end. We got a call late on Monday afternoon to say that he was in recovery and looking good. His heart was functioning perfectly. They'd bring him out of sedation that night. Keep him in the ICU one or two days just as the standard post-op procedure. He'd spend a week or so in a cardiac ward after that, then head to a physical rehab ward for a couple of weeks until he could build back the muscle mass he'd lost while sedated.

We went in to see him the next day. Tuesday 20th. His 66th birthday.

He was tired, but looked good. Color in his cheeks. He made a couple of jokes. We left after about 45 minutes because he was pretty worn out, and we wanted to let him get some rest.

But then after, that his breathing started to get bad again. By Wednesday morning, they'd switched out the oxygen prongs in his nose for a big, high-pressure mask again. They called to let us know they were going to intubate him again so he could rest while his lungs recovered a bit more.

They struggled to get the tube in.

His lungs were deteriorating badly. He kept getting worse. We couldn't go in to see him because they were working on him all day.

At 9pm we got a call to say that he was just getting worse. They had him on 100% oxygen. He just wasn't absorbing it. His entire body was under massive strain. They were doing everything they could, but he just wasn't improving.

They said we should go in right away.

We got there by 10pm. My brother and his wife arrived about the same time. We went in to see him. He didn't look good. He looked pale. But he was warm, and he'd come back from the brink before, and we were sure he could do it again. We stayed with him for about an hour, and left not long after 11pm. Went back to my brother's place because they live closer to the hospital.

We were there about half an hour before they called us again. Just after midnight. He was gone.

That was about a week and a half ago, now. It still doesn't feel real. He was only 66. He hadn't even retired yet. He was working full time up until the week before Christmas, and had planned on going back to work a few days a week after he'd recovered from surgery. He never had any heart trouble, or lung trouble. He was active. He was fine.

My wife Zel and her mom flew in a couple of days after it happened. I barely remember anything from the past two weeks. Everything just feels fake.

I've been trying to write something to say at the funeral, which we've finally been able to arrange for next week -- it was delayed because we had to wait for dad to be released by the coroner. I don't think I'll be able to do it.

Anyway. That's where I've been.

It'll probably be a little while longer before I'm around here much, let alone posting with any regularity, because I'll be in Australia helping my mum & and my brother sort everything out. I have no idea how long I'll be dealing with stuff, or when I'll be able to make words cooperate enough to post anything, but I'll be back eventually.

I'm trying to keep an eye on Discord (I'm violetmatter over there) so you can find me there if you want. But yeah, I just wanted to let you guys know why I've been so quiet.

#cass says things #this is a very long #and heavy post #so i guess i should include some content warnings #uh #christ what do i even tag this with #cw: hospital #cw: health #cw: death #cw: parent death

[angelicyoongie]

hi friends! 💖

i'm sorry that i haven't been much online here lately – it's honestly just been hit after hit this past month. i managed to wrap up my exams okay, so that was a relief! however, i've learned that i will likely be let go of my job some time before spring. if you've been here a while then you might know that i struggle with RSI (somewhat similar to carpal tunnel) in both wrists and that limits my ability to work greatly. finding a new job will not be easy and that has been a source of unwelcome stress lately. so i'm still trying to figure out what i'm going to do on that front :( i've also been super excited to get back into writing but the moment i had time to do so, i got sick. ya girl is currently down with covid lol, so writing will just have to wait until i can actually focus and my fever is fully gone. i'm sorry i've just been a bringer of bad news lately, but i hope that things will begin to look up soon! the abundance holiday special will happen, there's just a chance it won't be ready in time for christmas 😅 just please have some patience with me while i try to get things in order and under control. i miss you guys a lot and i know i'm really behind on asks and reblogs, so i'll do my best to catch up on that soon!

stay safe and healthy 💖

(to add something positive (?): i dowloaded baldur's gate 3 as a birthday gift to myself and i LOVE it so far. it's so much fun!! asterion, i'm coming for you bby boy.)

[themori-witch]

As per request by a lovely anon, here are some general updates about me and my life:

I adopted four female rats from the RSPCA last year. It took some work but they are very sweet and silly. Their names are Tali, Liara, Kasumi, and Aria.

Due to an incident in which I was lied to by the employee of a major retailer about two of the rats in their adoption centre, Kasumi and Aria ended up pregnant. I now have 6 beautiful little baby rats as a result. They're gorgeous and doing very well, as are the mothers. They're 5 weeks old.

I'm still in a relationship with my lovely gamer boyfriend. We'll be celebrating 7 years together this year. 💕

Health stuff... I'll try to condense this:

- After a barrage of tests, cameras, scans, and more, I was officially told that I have severe Gastroparesis, which we all but knew. Unfortunately, that was pretty much the end of it. No further appointments, no medication to help symptoms - nothing. I was very much left to fend for myself, and that led to two hospitalizations, one in December of 2023 and one in February of 2024.

- December wasn't unfamiliar territory: 20 hours of vomiting and being unable to keep anything down led to my blood sugars being extremely high (Diabeyic Ketoacidosis). I stayed in for a few days after the DKA cleared up for monitoring.

- February was... terrifying. Started off the same as December with ceaseless vomiting, but the vomit turned to blood, and I could not stop bringing it up. Couldn't move, keep anything down, vision loss and lots, and lots of bringing up blood. I was in agony. I was rushed to A&E, where I was given anti-emetics and pain relief regularly through the many IVs I had in. Once the vomiting stopped, I was faced with another issue: my oesophagus was so inflamed and damaged that I couldn't eat or drink. I was kept in for 5 days and told that I was at risk of refeeding syndrome as I'd not eaten properly for about 3 days prior to admission. Luckily, that didn't happen, mostly because I was physically incapable of having more than a spoonful of yoghurt or mashed potato for over a week. We found out via my discharge papers that I'd had an Upper GI Haemorrhage. Scary scary scary. One good thing did happen after this admission, though! The team caring for me were absolutely outraged that I'd just been ignored since diagnosis, and I was sent home with an array of medication that has really helped me to get a handle on my symptoms during a flare up.

- Oh! I managed to catch Covid-19 quite literally on Yule and was very sick throughout New Year. I am vaccinated but caught a strain from Finland from a family member who had been there just before Yule.

I got another tattoo! It's one that I've wanted for almost a decade and I thought, given the stuff I've dealt with in the last 4 months, I deserve a treat.

[fanficbarbie]

❝i got cake and i know he want a slice.❞

read the rest of the series before this chapter or you’re getting spoilers.

A/N: we're back, barbies! i successfully survived midterms so now I can breathe!! i've been working on this all week and tomorrow i promise, i'll work on my requests. a lot of y'all have been in my comments and reposts with pitchforks because joel didn't kiss ginny yet and all i have to say is, same babes. i don't make the rules (yes i do) i just enforce them. this isn't edited so ignore any mistakes. please leave feedback in the comments ★ ˙ᵕ˙ liv

Chapter Summary: the sweetest baker enlists joel to help her volunteer at ellie's school.

Chapter Warnings: language, alcohol, slight age gap (F!MC and Joel are 6 years apart), racial descriptions (tommy says black girls are his type basically), symptoms of anxiety and depression, lmk if i forgot something.

Series Tags: chef! Joel, single! father Joel, no outbreak! Joel Miller, slow burn, dual-pov, fluff, flirting, friendship, eventually established relationship, eventual smut, original character, black!fem!MC, no y/n.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist, joel masterlist ⋆ spotify playlist ˖ ݁ 𖥔.

“Taste this,” I demand Joel, shoving the spoon of icing towards his mouth.

Joel stops stacking the plastic plates, looking down at the utensil. “What did you say?” he asks with scrunched eyebrows.

I shake the fork impatiently. “Try,” I demand. He looks at me skeptically before leaning forward and taking a bite of the warm sugary liquid.

His mouth moves slowly as tastes. “Mmmhm, that’s good,” he compliments.

I want to put my hands up to hide the blush that’s inevitably covering my face right now. But I don’t want Joel to notice my reaction. “Thank you. I tweaked the recipe last week,” I say quickly, turning around so I’m not facing him.

“That’s why I’m here,” I hear Joel say.

Shaking my head, I pour the icing over the cakes. “No, you’re here because I didn’t want to be the only one working the booth today,” I defend myself.

“You would’ve called someone else,” Joel points out.

My shoulders rise with my eyebrows. “You’re probably right,” I conceded.

I enlisted Joel to do a booth with me instead of having two separate booths. Neither of us wanted to pull staff from the floor but still wanted to participate for Ellie’s sake. The two of us could handle it, with the help of some friends.

Joel and I mirror each other's movements in the kitchen. He makes sure the COVID-safe fall fest meals are ready and me adding something sweet into the mix. The hum of Taylor Swift plays in the background and I catch Joel slightly humming to ‘Welcome to New York.’ A snicker involuntary leaves my throat and I shove it down, hoping he didn’t pick up on it.

Once my job is done, I allow the dishes to clatter in the sink. The worst part about baking is the prep and the cleaning and I don’t have the energy for that right now. 

“Hello?” Madeline’s voice rings through the stairwell.

“Don’t shoot us,” Leonardo’s voice follows shortly after.

A scoff leaves my lips and I near the island to watch Joel skillfully move around the kitchen. Every move has a crafted purpose and I can practically see the blood pulsating through his veins. 

My breathing hitches and I shift in hopes of gaining composure. “I don’t even have a gun,” I pipe up.

Joel walks in front of me and motions behind me. We dance around for a little before he grunts in frustration and puts his hands on my waist. My eyes go wide as Joel easily lifts me onto the cold island before reaching behind me. “I do,” he murmurs, sliding the pan of bundt cakes toward his muscled torso.

His smirk has me wanting to strip my clothes off and give it to him in the nastiest way possible. Bad, ginny. He was just sick of you being in the way. “I don’t think that applies to this scenario, Joel,” I stress.

Joel moves from in between my legs and I turn my head to watch Leo strolling into the room confidently. “Hey, Miller,” he boasts.

“Hey,” I hear Joel respond next to me.

Maddie follows shortly behind him, wearing brown leather pants and high-heeled boots. She’s overdressed for a school event, but knowing her she’s probably looking for a husband. “Hi, Joel,” she purs, flashing him a smile.

My body turns to survey Joel’s reaction, but his poker face is stone-cold. “Nice to see you, Madeline,” he tries his hardest to force out through a smile.

It’s not that Joel doesn’t like Madeline, she’s just an acquired taste. Too much time around her can drive you crazy and sometimes when Joel picks Ellie up from the bakery, Madeline is sobbing her eyes out with a glass of wine in her hand. 

“Didn’t know you were working the party, man,” Leo notes once he and Madeline cross the large open floor plan into the kitchen.

“Joel’s daughter, Ellie, goes to school with Dina,” I tell Leo, motioning towards Joel.

Madeline nods, sliding into the bar stool and putting her shiny silver purse on the counter. “That makes sense.  What are you making?” she leans forward and asks Joel.

Joel rolls his shoulder forward, hunching over to plate the food. “Thanksgiving meals. Each meal comes with turkey and 3 sides. My brother Tommy’s bringing the rest,” he informs her.

Maddie's eyes light up and a smirk creeps onto her face. “I didn’t know you had a brother. Is he a chef, too?” she asks, voice laced with mischief.

Joel shrugs, not bothering to make eye contact with her. “Mostly just a pain in my ass but, yeah. He helps out at the Austin from time to time,” he grumbles.

“That's awesome! Is he cute?” Maddie asks excitedly.

“Maddie!” I hiss towards the blonde.

Joel’s phone buzzes on the counter next to us and he picks it up, turning the screen towards the group. “That would be him,” he says, shaking the device lightly.

Once Joel exits the room, I hit Maddie on the arm with the back of my palm. “What?! Not everyone has a Michelin-star chef whipping meals in their kitchen trying to get in your pants,” she frowns.

My eyes widen and I feel the sudden urge to yank my hair out. Now I know why Joel tugs on his roots. “Joel’s not– he’s not,” I stammer, pausing to collect my breath. “Joel’s not trying to get in my pants,” I sigh.

Maddie raises a brow, looking me up and down. “I beg to differ,” she counters.

Jumping down from the counter, I start to pick up where Joel left off with the meals. “He doesn’t have time to– Leo, don’t eat that,” I swat Leo’s hand, stopping him from picking up a bundt cake prematurely.

Leo winces, putting his hands up in defense before sliding into the bar stool. “So, how’s things been between you two?” he questions.

My brows furrow and I feel confusion wash over me. “What do you mean?” I ask.

“I mean, you’ve been seeing each other for what, a month. Right?” he asks.

Maddie snickers next to me and I shake my head, resuming my careful placing of the assorted dessert flavors. “No, Leo. We literally haven’t even been on a date,” I point out.

Leo twists back and forth in the spinning chairs like a child who’s bored out of his mind. “That means nothing,” he scoffs.

My head tilts and I point the spatula at Leo. “To you, you whore. To me it means something. We’re just friends,” I inform him.

Leo purses his lips and his brows furrow. “Oh, fuck off,” he nips at me.

“What?” I ask him.

Leo rolls his eyes and I want to lean forward to snatch them out of his socket. “I still don’t know how you’re blind to him flirting,” he complains.

Maybe I am reading things wrong. Maybe Joel is interested. “If he flirts with me so much, why hasn’t he asked me out on a date or kissed me?” I ask the pair confused.

My head darts back and forth between my friends. “Maybe he just wants to take things slow,” Maddie tries to explain.

Leo clears his throat and my head whips to face his. “Yup. You said yourself he has a daughter,” he shrugs.

My eyes look at the clock to check and see if we’re doing good on time. Ellie and Dina will be bursting in at any moment. They don’t need to be privy to this conversation. 

Once I have my confirmation, I refocus on the to-go containers in front of me. “Then why would he and his daughter sleep in my bed with me the other night?” I ask. 

Maddie's jaw drops and her eyes widen. “You slept in the same bed together?!” She practically shrieks.

“Yeah, I told you,” I remind her.

Maddie shakes her head in disbelief. “No, you told me they stayed the night. Not that you were cuddled up with Joel Miller,” she hisses.

I shake my head and begin pleading my case, “I wasn't cuddled up with him. Ellie had a sit–”

Joel walks in and I shut myself up, my eyes immediately finding his. “Hey y’all, I want to introduce you to my brother, Tommy,” he bellows with a smile, stepping to the side. 

A man a bit younger than Joel steps through my entryway, his hair slightly slicked back. He’s not my type, but he’s definitely Maddie’s. I stop placing the cakes in the to-go boxes, crossing the floor to meet them halfway. “Come on in. It’s nice to meet you,” I smile, putting my hand on his arm to pull him into the kitchen.

Tommy looks down at me and smiles. “Likewise. Heard a lot about you,” he confesses with warmth in his voice.

Fucking attractiveness and charm must run in the family. “Good things, I hope,” I suggest to Tommy, peering up at him.

Tommy nods, chuckling a bit. “Fantastic things, darlin’,” he assures me and I almost melt. It’s good to know that Joel and Ellie talk about me positively.

When we get to the kitchen, Maddies is already standing seemingly posing by the counter. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Madeline,” she flirts, extending her hand for him to shake.

I let go of his jacket, sliding into Maddie’s seat at the bar. “Tommy,” he shakes her hand before awkwardly turning toward me.

He raises his brow almost as if he’s asking how I know them silently. “Madeline and Leo are my friends from elementary school,” I quickly explain.

Tommy lets out an ah sound, nodding a bit before Leo clears his throat. “Nice to meet you, man,” Leo chimes.

“Likewise,” Tommy returns.

I clap my hands softly, clasping them together in front of my chest. “Now, Tommy. I hate to put you to work but can you help me carry this stuff out to the van?” I request.

Tommy smiles, pushing his hair back with his fingers. “Of course,” he agrees.

My body turns towards my best friends. “Maddie, can you and Leo grab the cookie tubs and put them in the other van?” I ask the pair.

“I can do it by myself,” Leo grumbles and I realize I’ve hurt his ego.

“I know you can. Maddie is just the brains of the operation,” I soothe him.

Maddie snickers and Leo rolls his eyes. “Fine, let’s go brain,” he says, putting his arm around her shoulder.

“Aye aye, Pinky,” Maddie salutes him as they stomp out of the room.

Tommy and I get to work grabbing the Fall Fest dinners and putting them into a large box. After they’re stacked on a dolly, we begin to load them one by one onto the first bakery van. A comfortable silence fills the van as we secure the last of the food. “So, are you single?” I ask Tommy, attempting to play matchmaker for Maddie.

Tommy wipes his hands on his pants and my nose scrunches. Later he’s going to wonder where that stain came from… men. “Depends on who’s asking,” he drawls suspiciously.

I scoff, hopping down out of the van. “You and Leo are the biggest whores I’ve ever met. It’s a simple question Tommy,” I rant before forcefully pushing another box towards him.

Tommy stops the box from moving so quickly across the large metal floor paneling. “Who’s asking, Ginny?” he directs.

My leg bounces and the ways Maddie will kill me for this runs through my brain. “Madeline,” I jabber, hoping he won't tell her.

Tommy looks up at me blinking rapidly. His mouth forms a large o and his brows furrow. “I’m single, but I’m not interested,” he declares.

I put my hands on my hips. “What do you mean you’re not interested? She’s literally perfect,” I say, pointing out the fact that she’s a blonde with blue eyes. She’s every man in America’s dream.

Tommy shrugs. “Hate to say it but we Millers have a type. She’s beautiful, just not my cup of tea if you catch my drift,” he explains resuming his work.

Ohhhh. I didn’t know the Millers prefer brown women. But then again, I’ve never actually been to Joel's house or seen a picture of Sarah, or his exes. How the fuck was I supposed to know? “100%” I confirm, pushing him another box. “Can I ask you something?” I ask.

“Depends-” Tommy starts and I cut him off.

“On what it is I know,” I snap, gnawing on my bottom lip. “How do I say this?” I think out loud.

Tommy's choleric disposition takes over his face, similar to Joel's when he’s had enough. “Whatever it is spit it out,” he growls lowly.

The sweat on my forehead collects and I feel like hot water is being poured onto my scalp. But I have to know how Joel feels about me, and Tommy would know. “Is Joel interested in me?” I blurt, feeling like I’ve finally submerged myself in a cool bath.

Tommy doesn’t say anything, he just purses his lips. The comfort I felt turns into pain when the water turns into ice. My body is frozen and I’m rendered speechless.

I want to flee. I need to get out of here. I shouldn’t have asked. “Oh my god,” I finally speak.

“Mmmhm,” Tommy hums, motioning for me to pass him another box so I can continue t

I rub my eyebrows as the pit in my stomach fills with anxiety. “Oh god, Tommy. What am I gonna do?” I ask, unable to stand anymore with the alley seemingly spinning.

I take a seat in the back of the truck, putting my head in my hands. “What do you want to do?” Tommy asks.

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you,” I groan towards the ground.

“Well the way I see it, lean into it or tell him so he doesn’t fall harder for ya,” he advises.

My brain runs through all the moments that I’ve had with Joel. How the first day we met he offered to cook for me. Every lingering touch, all the compliments he’s given me, when vulnerable he’s been with me. You don’t do that with someone who’s just a friend. 

I peel my hands away from my face with realization. “Oh my gosh, he’s been sending so many signals. I’m going to throw up,” I groan.

Tommy steps out of the van, looking down at me. “Please don’t,” he pleads.

Suddenly, Joel comes around the corner at the most inappropriate time. These Millers just pop up anywhere and one day, they’re going to make me piss myself. They need a bell on their ankles. He hands the last boxes to Tommy and I pray to the gods above he didn’t overhear our conversation. “Don’t what?” Joel asks.

Fuck. My body tenses and I try to focus on containing the bile rising in my throat. “Ginny’s feelin’ dizzy. I’m almost finished here. She’s just gonna sit for a second,” he tells his brother.

Joel sits down on the metal butt of the truck next to me. He puts his hand in my lap, palm facing up towards me. I accept his offer, intertwining our fingers. “You need anything, sugar?” he asks sweetly, and I sigh.

I nod, running the back of his hands with my thumb. Attentive Joel is my favorite, but only because I’m an attention whore. “Can you get me a Coke from the fridge? Maybe I just need some caffeine,” I request.

Joel nods, trying to let go of my hand. Although I don’t want him to, I allow him to disconnect from me. “Of course, I’ll be right back,” he says, petting my head before turning around and disappearing behind the van.

A sigh of relief slips my lips and I try to refocus on calming my breathing. “So are you?” I hear Tommy say behind me.

I scoot back against the inside of the van walls, allowing the sides to cool me down. “Am I what?” I ask him with a raised brow.

“Are you single?” he reiterates.

A smirk creeps onto my lips. “Depends on who’s asking,” I taunt him.

“Joel,” Tommy cuts straight to the point, unlike me.

I giggle and I feel like the panic has finally subsided. “Yeah, I’m single,” I tell him.

Tommy finishes securing the last box and he turns around to face me. He puts his hands on his upper thigh, leaning on one leg. Jesus Christ, now that’s attractive. “And open? Ready?” he interrogates.

I nod, sliding out of the truck. “Tommy, I mean it. Make sure Joel knows how ready,” I say to him as he shuts the back doors.

Joel turns off the engine to the bakery van, having pulled into the spot at the school where vendors unload. He turns to me and flashes me a smile. “You alright?” he asks concerned.

After that conversation with Tommy, I needed more than just a Coke. I needed multiple shots of tequila. I forced Tommy and Maddie to join me, leaving Joel and Leo the only sober people to drink the trucks.

I nod, and my body bobs unstabily. “Yes,” I slur.

Joel shakes his head and his head falls back. He lets out a loud bellowing laugh, holding his stomach and I know he’s caught me in the lie. “Well, you are not talking to any parents tonight,” he chuckles, wiping his hands over his face.

I roll my eyes at him. “I wasn’t planning on it. Besides, all the moms are going to be all over hot Chef Miller,” I complain, hoping he doesn’t notice my jealousy. 

He laughs again and it’s so beautiful, I want to make his laugh featuring Ellie’s giggle my alarm clock so I can wake up peacefully. Snap the fuck out of it, Imogen. “That’s not going to happen,” Joel says, opening his door.

I don’t get to respond before he shuts it, jogging over to my side to retrieve me. Joel opens the door and I’m reading to pounce. “Yes, the fuck it is,” I counter, feeling my emotional drunk alter ego arise.

Joel leans against the door frame, extending his hand to help me down. “Well good thing I don’t want any of them,” he claims.

I accept his hand, looking at him with hope in my eyes. “Really?” I ask.

Joel’s pupils dilate and he flashes me a smile. “Really,” he confirms, putting his hands on my hips.

He guides me until my back is pressed against the cool metal of the truck. His eyes flicker down to my lips before back up to me. If he’s going to do anything, he better do it now before someone sees us.

“Joel!” “Ginny!” I hear Ellie and Dina’s voices call from behind Joel. Fuck, scratch a bell bracelet. They need a fucking air horn.

Joel steps back, putting some space between us. “Hey kiddo,” he greets her, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

Fucking cock blocking crotch demons. Let it go, Imogen. He was probably just trying to perform a wellness check on you. “Hey, Dina,” I say, teetering over to her in my heels.

“Thanks for coming,” I hear Ellie say to her dad.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I hear Joel say before the second van pulls up in the spot next to us.

Ellie gasps when she sees who’s in the passenger seat. She slams her hand on the glass window, effectively scaring Leo who’s on the other side. “Uncle Tommy!” she cheers before running over to the passenger side.

Joel leans over until his lips are touching my ear. “It’s always ‘Uncle Tommy, Uncle Tommy.’ But never ‘Dad’,” he complains in a whisper.

I sway a bit, unstable from the drinking. “Patience, young padawan,” I quote Star Wars to him.

Joel wraps his arms around my waist to stabilize me. Dina’s eyes look us up and down. She leans forward and sniffs the air in front of my face. “Ginny, are you drunk?” she asks loudly.

“Shhhhh. You’ll tell the whole fucking school,” I shush her, pulling her towards me so Leo can get out of the car.

Dina snickers, lacing her hand in mine. “Come on, we’re walking to the corner store for snacks before it starts,” she enlists me.

I nod excitedly, thinking about the possibility of having slushies and Hot funyons. “Count me in. Got any cash, Joel?” I ask the resourceful man. He’s bound to have something on him and I don’t feel like bringing my purse.

He nods, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a brown leather wallet. “Mmhm. Take Tommy with you, Sugar,” he hands me back two twenties and I gladly accept them, slipping them into Dina’s hands.

I wine, squirming a bit. “But Joel, Maddie will be with us. All girls with Tommy would just be weird,” I complain.

Joel brushes past me, heading towards the back of the trucks. “I don’t care, you’re both drunk. You need someone out there lookin’ after y’all,” he says over his shoulder.

Dina tugs my hands a couple of times, dancing in place. “Awwww,” she coos.

I cover my mouth to try to stop the giggle that slips out. He’s cute when he’s all protective and shit. “Hehe. Does he have a gun?” I ask, pulling Dina towards the back with me.

Joel grabs the handle, opening the heavy doors. “Yes,” he answers.

“Well okay, as long as he doesn’t bother us,” I conceded.

The 3 others from the van join us along with Ellie. Dina immediately ditches me, joining her now best friend. “Tommy, walk with them to the store,” Joel commands his brother.

“Why can’t Leo do it?” Tommy groans like a child.

Joel takes out the Dolly to start unloading the items. “Because Leo’s sober, and I need his help with this shit,” he states frustratedly. 

Leo snickers, walking over to the truck to start unloading the boxes. “Ahem,” I clear my throat at Joel.

That fucker forgot one crucial part. “And stay ten paces behind them,” he adds.

Tommy puts his hands up. “Fine by me. I don’t wanna know you’re girly bullshit anyways,” he jeers.

Madeline pats him on the shoulders. “That’s what they all say, Tommy,” she argues.

Maddie links her arm with mine. “We’ll see you guys later,” I say to Joel before joining the teenagers for the walk down the block.

We walk through the parking lot for a bit before entering the school. Whenever I have a drop of liquor in me, I have the urge to Irish goodbye. I drag Maddie with me until were walking closer behind the girls. “We should really lose him,” I suggest.

Ellie looks over her shoulder at Tommy before nodding at Dina. “Okay, follow us,” Dina intrusts.

I nod as we move quickly through the hall taking a left and running into a room. We quickly shut the door behind us, and I peer out the window waiting for Tommy to walk by. When he does, he looks confused turning around in circles. I snicker and he seemingly hears. I quickly pulls my head away from the small plexiglass, hoping he didn’t notice me. “Did we lose him?” Ellie asks, looking over my shoulder.

Maddie takes matters into her own hands, stepping past me to check. “Coast is clear,” she informs us with a smile.

We break out into laughter and I feel like I’ve just pulled off the greatest inside job ever. “Let’s go,” Dina says, reaching for the door handle.

When we get to the store, I bolt toward the Slurpee machine. I grab the largest cup size, filling it with cherry and coke flavors. Once my drink is secured, I grab and fill two cups for Tommy and Joel. Ellie finds me, grabbing Joel's cup, and together we wander the store looking for the spicy chips. 

I snatch three bags from the top shelf, figuring someone will stick their fingers in my bag and piss me off. It’s always good to have extras. “You know, I’d be okay if my dad dated someone like you,” Ellie pipes up randomly next to me.

I almost drop the Slurpee onto the tile floor beneath me. “Oh. Where is this coming from?” I ask her with a raised brow.

She grabs some chips before we walk towards the candy aisle to meet with Maddie and Dina. “He asked me if I was okay with him dating someone the other day,” she leaves me hanging on her every word.

“What’d you say?” I dig deeper.

She turns towards me with a smirk on her lips. “I said I wouldn’t care as long as it was you,” she admits.

The door to the corner store dings and Tommy is pushed in by the windy city. He looks pissed as fuck as he stomps over towards us. “The hell? Your dad is gonna kill me if he finds out–” he starts before Ellie cuts him by shoving a Slurpee in his hand.

“He’ll be fine. Let’s go, Uncle Tommy,” she motions towards the counter.

By the time we’re back in the gym, everything is set up. Joel graciously accepts the Slurpee, which turns his tongue blue, sending Ellie into a fit of giggles. Now hours later, I walk around the gym shopping at other booths with Madeline. I can’t deny that every time I look at Joel, our eyes link for a second too long. The simple interaction causes my breath to catch in my chest every time, and I try to ignore it. 

After some time, we’re finished looking in the main gym, and we head into the hall to see the art auction pieces. Eligible students can create anything they want; a poem, a painting, or a sculpture to put up for action. The people who come to Fall Fest pledge money towards an art piece, and the money earned goes towards the student’s college tuition.

We stroll down the hall, mindlessly chatting about which pieces we want to bid on before Maddie points at a specific piece. “That’s fucking gorgeous,” she blusters.

A smile creeps on my face when I look closer at the signature. The familiar white calligraphy makes my heart sing. “It’s Ellie’s,” I boast about the talented young girl.

“Now I see why she’s painting the mural. This is some good shit. I’ve gotta commission her for some art,” Maddie rambles, seemingly entranced by the swirls of paint before her.

I nod, smiling at the though of Ellie becoming an artist of some kind. “She’d probably love that,” I tell her.

When I turn around, I see Joel walking through the door of the large hall. His eyes dart around till he finds me, b-lining for us. He stands in front of me awkwardly and when Maddie turns around, she jumps from being startled a bit. “Well, I’m gonna just go look…” she trails off, effectively excusing herself.

“Can we talk?” Joel asks, tilting his head towards a darker secluded hall.

“Yeah,” I say to him, pulling him into the area not lit by prison lighting.

Once we’re alone, I lean back against the wall. “What’s wrong?” I tilt my head attempting to cajole him into telling me.

“Nothin’ it’s just, I’ve bit my tongue 'cause I was unsure if–” he pauses and takes a deep breath. “I enjoy spendin’ time with you, Ginny. You’ve become important to me and you should know that I care about you deeply, sugar,” he confesses.

Oh, I wasn’t expecting that. This train has a one-way route towards the friend zone. “I care about you too Joel! And I like spending time with you too. And Ellie,” I sadly follow his lead.

Joel steps closer, putting his hand over my head and leaning forward. “I just really don’t wanna lose you,” he expresses, voice laced with sincerity.

My hands snake up around his waist and I grip the grey shirt he’s wearing. “How would you lose me, Joel?”

Joel's eyes stay fixed on mine and the brown in his eyes swirls like hot chocolate. “Sugar, I feel more than just a friendship level for ya. I like you,” he stresses.

“Oh, Joel. I’m not going anywhere. I wouldn’t,” I promise him, pulling him closer so our upper bodies are pressed towards each other.

He sighs, looking down at the ground between us. “I know, but telling you that means changing our relationship. I don’t want to scare you and I didn’t know–” he starts before I tap his side, cutting him off.

“Joel, I like you too. Like… a lot,” I confirm.

His head quickly rises and he sighs, “Oh.”

I’m starting to feel embarrassed by the whole situation. “Dear, god. I-I don’t know why my brain goes blank when I look at you. I think I’m going crazy. I feel like a high schooler,” I falter.

Joel chuckles, leaning forward to press his forehead onto mine. I clear my throat, impatient tugging at his side. “So, I think this is the part where you’re supposed to kiss me,” I murmur.

Joel takes his forehead off of mine, searching my face seemingly wary of crossing the line. All he’s going to find is my stupid shit-eating grin. “Are you sure?” Joel asks for consent and I think it’s the most sexy thing I’ve ever heard leave a man's lips.

“Positive,” I nod, radiating with excitement.

“Okay,” he sighs and a wolfish grin creeps onto his face.

His hands slide up to my neck, pulling me closer. “Okay,” I murmur.

He grabs the back of my neck, crashing his lips onto mine. We both smile into the kiss and I force a giggle back down my throat. My lips open slightly, granting him entrance. His warm tongue dances with mine and I marvel at the taste of whiskey and apple on his lips. It’s filled with so much passion, that I feel like my heart is about to explode.

His fingers thread into my hair, massing my scalp as he kisses me. I moan into his mouth and my clit pulsates with a hunger for him. He disconnects our lips, leaving us both panting because of the other. “Was that as good for you as it was for me?” I murmur against his lips.

“Probably better,” Joel grunts before pulling back and motioning towards the hard member protruding through his jeans.

“Joel, oh my gosh,” I giggle, stepping forward and wrapping my arms around his torso. “Can I have one more?” I practically salivate, batting my lashes at him.

Joel nods, snaking his hand back around my neck. His thumb strokes my jaw and I lean into him. “Mmmhm,” he hums, dipping his head back down.

His lips connect with mine and my tongue continues to explore his map. I want to stay in this moment forever. It feels like a dream and I don’t want to wake up. His lips are surprisingly soft and I kick myself for not doing this months ago.

The smacking of our lips is apparent when we pull back this time and I know my face is covered in pink flush. “Damn it. I was supposed to do this right. Date first, then kiss,” he curses himself.

I giggle, standing on my tip-toes to press a kiss against his cheek. “Joel, I asked you to kiss me. Besides, we’ve known each other for months,” I acknowledge our past.

Joel nods, but he doesn’t seem ready to let it go. “You’re right, but still. Can I take you out on a date?” he pleads.

I’m practically bouncing on my toes, my mind racing with thoughts of my future with Joel. Relax Ginny, he just asked you out on one date. “Yes,” I blurt.

Joel chuckles at my excitement, taking a step back and lacing his hand with mine. “When are you free next?” he turns to me and asks as we walk back to the gym.

“Thursday, but it’s Thanksgiving. After that, on Friday. Speaking of, do you guys have any plans for the holiday?” I inquire.

Joel shakes his head, confirming my suspicions. “No, just me, Tommy, and Ellie eating at an undecided time,” he informs me.

“How about you join me at Maddie’s house? Her family always orders catering for Thanksgiving,” I offer, hoping he’ll grace me with his presence sooner than a week from now. I get we’re both busy food industry owners, which I love, I just don’t think I can wait that long to be in a romantic setting with him.

“I know. They’ve put in an order at The Austin for the past two years,” Joel dictates and I nod. Just my luck, the man’s food I’ve been shoveling into my mouth for the past 6 holidays is also the man I’m trying to date.

I poke his muscular bicep with my free hand. “Even better, you can personally deliver it and tell everyone who doesn’t like it that they’re wrong. Just like you did on my birthday,” I joke with him and he puts his hands on his chest, seemingly hurt by my statement.

“I’m sorry about that, darlin’. Really I am,” Joel apologizes.

I tug on his hand, trying to grab his attention and snap him out of a spiral. “I’m fucking with you, Joel. Please come. I’m sure Ellie would love it,” I practically beg him.

Joel pauses, looking up to think about it. He’s probably worried about how unpredictable his two family members would be in this setting. “Okay, we’ll come,” he concedes, finally.

“Good. I’ll text you the details. You’re standing straighter,” I beam, pointing out his posture change.

Joel chuckles, rubbing his thumb across mine soothingly. “I feel like a house just lifted off my back. I’ve had my eyes on you since June 30th,” he confesses.

I smirk, leaning closer to him. “So Maddie was right, you were practically drolling on my shoulder,” I taunt.

“She said that?” he asks with furrowed brows.

I nod, attempting not to give him too much information. “Mmmhm,” I hum.

He tugs on my hand, stopping me in my tracks before I reach the entryway. “I’m not going to deny that, Sugar,” he looks me up and down like I’m a meal he wants to ravish.

The thought of us fucking turns me on even more, and I have to remind myself we’re in a high school. “Okay, one last kiss before we’re back in the gym?” I use my siren eyes against him, peering up at him through my lashes.

“I like how you think,” Joel mumbles, sliding his free hand up and around the front of my neck. He gently pulls me forward, connecting our lips one final time. A wave of relief hits me, and I moan as his tongue dances with mine in the filthiest way. Me and Joel Miller are going out on a date.

read the rest of the series

#joel fanfic #joel x ellie #joel the last of us #joel and ellie #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x oc #joel x black! fmc #joel miller x female oc #joel miller x black female oc #chef joel #chef joel miller #sweetest pie barbieliv #joel tlou #joel fluff #joel fic #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller au #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction #tommy miller x platonic!reader #ellie x platonic reader #joel miller x original character

[strawwritesfic]

Avengers Guys Taking Care of You When You're Sick Imagines

Hello! I caught some sort of very fun disease doing work-related things last weekend, so I came up with these imagines! I thought I'd post them for funises and because making you think of the dialogue yourself is way easier when there's very little oxygen entering my brain.

Disclaimer: I don't really do imagines, so I'm not even 100% sure that's what these are. They might just be headcanons? Listen, man, I'm an old person on the Internet. I don't know what I'm doing.

Also, I wrote these starting in the middle of the night after having only eaten marginally for three straight days and sleeping about a total of two hours over the course of 48 hours. Also, I didn't proofread them on account of the cinderblock shoved up my nose being very distracting. (But if there's something wrong, do feel free to bring it to my attention, and I will change it.)

Pretend these are in a world where COVID isn't a concern. I didn't feel like dealing with masking and isolation.

Let me know if you'd like to see later phases or groups!

EDIT: I forgot Clint. I blame the cinderblock. He's been added.

Enjoy!

Tony Stark

Let's face it. This guy is not in any position to play nurse. He hardly knows how to take care of himself; you're a different person entirely! Plus, he's not exactly into the idea of catching your cooties. Once you've got the ick, he is out of the bedroom and camping in his lab until you're no longer showing symptoms.

But that doesn't mean you're facing this alone. If this is before Pepper takes over Stark Industries as CEO, Tony's got her and Happy running around making sure you have anything you want--anything. More cold medicine? Done. A house call from your doctor? Called them 20 minutes ago; they're on their way. An authentic pizza directly from Italy? It's yours. If it's after, he will go get everything for you himself; it's just going to take a lot longer, and it'll probably take him five trips to actually get the right thing.

He won't leave you completely alone either. He'll call you up on one of the tablet phones and talk to (or at) you for hours. Heck, if you're bored, he might even set it up so you can watch him tinker on the suits from bed.

James Rhodes

You don't want Rhodey to find out you're sick. He's a busy guy, whether he's working with the Air Force or the Avengers. But he's gonna find out. Maybe he isn't able to call you as often as he'd like, but as soon as he makes contact, he's going to know you're sick from the word "hello."

He hates that you're often sick when he's quite literally half a world away. He doesn't want you to deal with your illness alone--and you won't. If he's still working primarily at the Air Force, you're on base with loads of fellow military officers and their spouses, and soon you've got more casseroles than you know what to do with. If he's with the Avengers, things are a little trickier. He can't ask Dr. Cho to fly in from Korea for a cough, and it's not like FRIDAY can answer the door for Uber Eats. Pepper and Tony aren't going to let one of their best friend's SO suffer, though! They love you, too. One or both of them is going to make sure you've got a house call from a doctor very soon.

As soon as Rhodey is off work, he's back with you. He'll cook dinner--something healthy that he knows you like. Then you'll both head to the couch or bed, snuggle up under a big blanket, and watch old movies until you fall asleep beside him.

Thor Odinson

Asgardians don't get run-of-the-mill illnesses, and any illness they do get is way more spectacular than what Midgardians deal with. Because of this, Thor finds your run-of-the-mill illness fascinating. Like, almost annoyingly so. Although he's fine to leave you to go on missions or the like, he is otherwise right there with you, delighting in every cough, sniffle and sneeze. If anyone on the team points out that you're, you know, sick, Thor is quick to remind them how incredibly tough his SO is. He knows you'll pull through!

Still, he doesn't want you to feel awful, so he's going to seek out advice on what he can do to help you. The results that come from this depend on who Thor decided to ask. Dr. Strange? Probably earn you some decent medications and/or treatments, even if Thor isn't 100% sure exactly how to use them. Loki? Then you're probably going to end up with Thor trying a dozen different things that don't make you feel worse but definitely don't make you feel better either. Hey, Loki's got no vested interest in helping out his brother's SO.

At the end of the day, at least you won't be left alone very often, and there is something endearing about a guy who thinks it's cute when you're so full of snot you can't think.

Loki Laufeyson

Loki is a much less...obtrusive companion than his brother is. Sick Midgardians are boring. They just lay around all day, producing the most horrible liquids from every part of them. He's got better things to do than sit around all day watching that...

...is what he wants everyone to think. He knows you don't like be smothered either. So Loki does go about his day as usual for the most part, but that doesn't mean he isn't checking in quite regularly. He'll slip into your room every few hours or so just to make sure you're resting. He won't wake you if you are. And the things you need have a funny way of appearing on your bedside table whenever you wake up: the remote control, a container of hot tea, even clean pajamas if you aren't feeling capable of walking to the bathroom for a shower.

But just because you don't like being smothered doesn't mean you want to be alone the entire time. Loki knows that. He's probably not going to crawl into bed next to someone who is coughing and sneezing and already warmer than they want to be, but he's perfectly content to pull a comfortable chair over to your bedside and sleep there. And when you get bored of watching TV or just need something quiet to fall asleep to, he's always happy to read aloud to you from whatever book he's reading.

Steve Rogers

Steve may no longer have the ability to get sick, but he remembers being sick when he was skinny, and he knows it's no fun. He also remembers the things that Bucky did for him that helped, and he'll try all of that on you. This leads to a bit of quarreling when Tony reminds him that they live in the 21st Century and have better ways of helping people with sore throats and coughing. But Steve eventually relents, and you get a good combination of things that make you feel better.

He's good at compartmentalizing, so he can put worrying about you aside when he needs to lead the team. The second they don't need him anymore, you're back at the forefront of his mind, and he's headed right to wherever you are. Even if you don't need anything he can provide you, he wants to make sure you're okay.

Since Steve doesn't get sick, he's 100% ready to cuddle. This is great when you have chills, and not so great when you're having hot flashes. He respects you if you ask him to please get the hell out of the bed. He lets you rest when you need rest, and is perfectly happy to just hang out in the room with you, quietly drawing in his notebook so he's there if you do need him.

Bucky Barnes

If Steve remembers getting sick, Bucky remembers being the one to take care of Steve when he was sick (after Steve's mom died). He does not handle seeing you sick well. At all. He cannot stop worrying about you at all. Never mind that all you've got is a stuffy nose and a cough, he's pretty much convinced that you are going to die on him any minute.

He's very reluctant to leave your side when you're sick. Even if there's some world ending-crisis that the team needs him for, he'd rather stay with you. Oh, he'll go to help with the world-ending crisis, but he's going to be thinking about you the entire time. Everybody on comms is going to get real tired of him using any downtime to wonder aloud if this will make [Name] feel better.

If you're lucky, Natasha or Sam or Steve might take pity on you and insist that Bucky take some time away and quit worrying so much. But unless they take him on outing to get you something (food, flowers, medicine, etc.), he's not going to want to go. Unless he's directly looking at you and confirming that you're okay himself, he's just not going to be able to settle. Until your fever breaks, don't expect Bucky to leave your side for very long, if at all.

Clint is a very normal guy wen it comes to his SO being sick. He's not too pushy or too distant. When you wake up with a sore throat, he makes you a cup of hot water with lemon juice in it, brings you a small breakfast in bed, and checks the medicine cabinet before he leaves for work. If there's anything you're low on, he'll make sure to pick it up on the way home. He'll call you at lunchtime to check on you, and if you say you need anything then, he'll pick that up on the way home, too.

If he has to go far away for work, of course Natasha is there to run errands and check on you. And if they're working together far away, you might get a very rare, very strange visit from Director Fury delivering cough syrup. Coulson pops by, too. Clint's got a pretty big support network willing to fill in any gaps he can't when he's working.

When he's at home, Clint mostly leaves you alone. He knows you need rest. There's plenty of work for him to do around the place anyway. But whenever he takes a break, he'll pop into the bedroom and ask you if you need anything if you're awake. He's always quick to tell the streaming service you're still watching, too, just so it's still going when you wake up. And he buys loads of your favorite takeout to tempt you to eat.

#fan fiction #imagine #avengers #mcu #marvel #avengers imagine #mcu imagine #marvel imagine #x reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #avengers x you #marvel x you #mcu x you #tony stark x reader #james rhodes x reader #thor odinson x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #straw writes #clint barton #clint barton x reader

[angels-heap]

I would love any advice you have for protecting yourself against covid in a work environment where no one else cares, because I’m in the same boat.

That really, really sucks, friend. As I said, I don't have all the answers, but here's what I've learned over the last few years and what's worked for me and my inner circle so far. Note that much of this advice will be US-centric because that's what I know best.

First, some light reading: This Covid Safety 101 flyer/infographic includes a ton of helpful info, and I've had some success using it as a conversation starter in my workplace. TL;DR: COVID is airborne, it's a SARS virus, its effects can be devastating, and your risk of Long COVID increases with each infection. We should all be taking steps to contract COVID as few times as possible and spread it as little as possible, with or without the support we should be getting from our public health institutions.

As for practical suggestions, many of them unfortunately cost a non-inconsequential amount of money because we live in a capitalist hellscape, but here are some things you can try, roughly ordered from least to most expensive.

Awareness: COVID is airborne!

A lot of folks, including people in the medical field (!!!) seem hesitant to believe/accept that COVID is airborne, even though this has been understood by researchers since fairly early on in the pandemic. Since most lingering "infection prevention" protocols focus on things like handwashing, disinfecting surfaces, and keeping a six foot distance from other people (all good for public health, but not particularly helpful for COVID), you'll need to gauge your own safety and comfort when around others.

As a general rule, if you're close enough to someone that you could smell their vape or cigarette smoke if they were engaging in such an activity, you're probably close enough catch COVID from them. Also, like smoke, COVID can linger in the air for a while after someone leaves a room. Adjust your habits accordingly and keep your mask on as much as possible (see below).

CPC Mouthwash and Nasal Sprays

I haven't had time to do a ton of research on these options, so take my recommendations with a grain of salt, but it sounds like there's some research coming out that suggests certain nasal sprays and mouthwashes containing CPC (Cetylpyridinium Chloride) may help neutralize viruses or block them from entering your body (or, at the very least, they may help reduce your viral load). I've been using Crest Pro-Health Clinical Rinse mouthwash before and after interacting with people for the last few months; I don't know how much of a role it's played in keeping me safe, but it might be helping, and even if it's not, it was cheap and my breath is always minty fresh. Here's some more info about nasal sprays, since I don't know enough about them to make any specific recommendations.

Testing

Keep a few rapid antigen tests on hand, if you can, but know their limits as a diagnostic or preventive measure, especially as new variants continue to evolve. My current understanding is that many new variants won't show up on a home test until day 3-4 of symptoms. What this means for you is:

Testing when you're completely asymptomatic and don't have any known recent exposures is probably not the best use of your resources.

If you have any unusual symptoms that might indicate illness, stay home (or wear a high quality mask, if you must interact with others). A negative test doesn't necessarily mean you're in the clear, and if you're sick, you can transmit COVID for several days before you test positive.

Swabbing your mouth and throat in addition to your nose (in that order, obviously) may increase the sensitivity of home tests.

Any sign of a positive test line counts as a positive! If the test line is very, very faint, that still counts.

If you feel sick, but your first test comes back negative, try again in a few days and keep testing periodically until you feel better and are no longer testing positive.

Vaccines

They're not perfect, and they won't get us out of this mess on their own, but if you have access to vaccines, get them. Any vaccine is better than no vaccine, but FWIW, I personally opted to get Novavax this year, after learning that it was the jab of choice for many COVID safety advocates and researchers. Pros of Novavax, specifically, include lower risk of side effects, possibly more durable immunity, and it's not an mRNA vaccine (great option for the vaccine skeptics in your life). But in the end, get whatever you can get.

Masks

If you're not already wearing an N95 respirator or similar, such as KN95, FFP2, KF94, etc., anytime you're indoors (or outdoors in a crowd), now's the time to start. One-way masking isn't perfect, but it's a lot more effective than no-way masking. As someone with a fairly petite face, I've had a hell of a time finding N95 masks that fit me. Through my many expensive mistakes, I have learned:

Avoid buying masks on Amazon, if at all possible. There are a lot of fakes out there.

If most masks fit you comfortably and you're comfortable wearing masks with headstraps (which tend to have a better seal than earloop masks), the 3M Aura is fantastic.

WellBefore sells masks in a variety of styles, sizes, and colors for affordable-ish prices. If you have a more petite face and have found that blue surgical masks and most N95s are huge on you, try their small or child sized masks.

BreatheTeq makes great masks in 4 sizes, and they sell a sample sizing kit for $7 + shipping to help you avoid wasting money.

Masks with headstraps generally form a better seal than masks with ear loops, but the most effective mask is one that you can/will actually wear semi-comfortably. Don't let perfect be the enemy of good. I've been wearing earloop masks for 3.5 years and have made it through multiple known exposures unscathed.

If you can afford to keep a few extra masks on hand to offer to colleages who have to be in your space, people who are coughing in public, or people who seem to be trying but they're still wearing inadequate surgical or cloth masks, do so. More often than not, people will take and wear them when offered!

Air Filtration

If we lived in a society that believed in public health and safety over profits, we'd have spent the last 3 years improving air filtration in public spaces. Alas, most places did not do this, so your next best options are as follows:

Open windows and prop doors whenever you can! Your goal is to keep fresh air moving through your space and minimize the amount of air that will be "re-breathed" by multiple people.

Build a Corsi-Rosenthal box with furnace filters and a box fan. Pros: Fairly cheap and easy to do; Cons: Boxes are large and can be loud. Some sites also provide instructions and/or sell kits to make smaller, more portable C-R boxes out of desktop computer fans.

Buy a HEPA air purifier (or 2, or 3), or try to get your workplace to shell out for one. While many brands sell small, portable purifiers that are around the size of a lunchbox, I would personally recommend that you buy the largest one you can afford. The smaller ones are probably better than nothing, but you really want a more room-scale solution, if possible. I've had good experiences with Medify Air and Coway air purifiers, but I'm sure there are other great brands out there as well.

If you buy an air purifier, you want one with a HEPA filter and without an ionizer, as ionizers aren't as helpful as the advertising would lead you to believe and they can pose health risks (ozone exposure, etc.).

Measuring Air Quality

If you can afford it, buy an Aranet 4 CO2 monitor. Yes, they're expensive, but I haven't heard of any cheaper products that compare in terms of accuracy or portability. (And they do occasionally go on sale on Amazon.) The Aranet 4 measures the concentration of carbon dioxide in the air around you. This reading is a great proxy for how much COVID might be in the air, and it can help you identify which areas of your home or workplace are the safest, and which ones would benefit the most from fresh air, an air purifier, or other safety measures.

#covid safety #covid #long post #god I hope I do not regret tagging this #I'm also probably forgetting important stuff but I know if I don't answer this tonight I won't get to it for 2 weeks #asks #anon

[zujime]

hi! may I request nsfw post covid kyle x reader headcanons please? :) thank you!

─── kyle b. x reader

c.w. aged up, established relationship, breeding, handjobs, oral, dumbification, aftercare

￫ he’s more of a switch because he has days where all he wants is to dominate you, but he also has his days where he doesn’t really want to have any control. he also happens to be a bit vanilla in bed simply because he loves you and doesn’t want to do anything to hurt you in any way, now you might catch a few degrading terms fly out of his mouth when he’s dirty talking, but he’s quick to tell you he didn’t mean it afterwards.

￫ he’s into breeding, no question there, but he also really like body worshiping on both ends. just to hear you say how perfect you think his freckled body is, has him turning sheepish. though he also loves worshiping your body—no matter the size or shape—because he thinks it’s perfect and if you happen to be insecure about it, he tries his best to rid of those insecurities.

￫ he likes handjobs and receiving oral, but nothing compares to when you’re sitting on his face. whether he had a bad day or you did, he’s eating you out without question. if you’re not feeling up to it, that’s completely fine and he’ll try to console you in another way, but when you do oblige with his request, you’re not getting up any time soon.

￫ he also loves fucking you dumb. just to hear you babble meaningless nonsense is such a turn on for him, but right after the two of you are done, he's quick to make sure you're alright. as hot as it was, the last thing he wants is to hurt you, so aftercare is a must when it comes to you.

￫ he likes spoiling you, a lot. if you happened to come home stressed from work or something else, he's quick to lay you down on the bed and eat you out or even finger you till you forget about what had been bothering you to begin with.

#[♪]. kyle #kyle broflovski #kyle x reader #south park kyle #sp kyle #kyle broflovski x reader #southpark x reader #south park x reader #southpark headcanons #south park headcanons

[honeyhotteoks]

into the aurora - chapter twelve (ot8)

chapter eleven: a late, late night

note: thank you to everyone who's been so patient waiting for this chapter. if you've been following me, you know that i had covid right after posting chapter eleven and it affected me a lot more than i would have expected. i'm feeling much better, and getting back to a normal writing schedule! thank you for waiting & i love you guys 🖤

chapter summary: you never can keep your hands off him with the studio door closed, and he doesn't seem to mind

warnings: nothing specific for this chapter

pairings: ot8 x reader

genre: fluff, angst, romance, ateez ensemble x reader, polyamory, non-idol!reader, fem!reader, eventual smut

word count: 5.1K

(previous chapter) (next chapter) | AO3 | masterlist

It’s nearly nine o’clock by the time you and Hongjoong remember that dinner exists and is a thing you’re probably supposed to eat. You’ve been locked together for hours, the workday fading away into background noise and nothing but both of your personal projects open in front of you as you work together.

You pull your headphones off as you check the time and grimace, at this hour the only people left in the building would be cleaning staff and maybe Eden, and the restaurants that you can think of to order from are getting ready to start closing.

“Joong,” you nudge his arm, and he holds up a loose hand, asking you silently to give him a minute.

You watch the way he studies his screen, and he nods as he finishes out his thought to himself, before sliding off his own headphones and cracking his neck, “What’s up?”

You rub your eyes a little, “We should get some food,”

“Ah,” he checks his phone, “probably,”

“You have a heavy schedule tomorrow,” you nudge him, “you should eat and make sure you’re ready for it.”

He sighs and stretches in his chair, “I’m fine,”

“Sure,” you nod, “but you should still eat something.”

“Mm,” he nods, and you can see the exhaustion in his eyes as he thinks it through. He seems torn between ordering in and staying at the office or heading home and picking up food on the way, he’s easy to read that way.

“We should cut it for tonight,” you offer, “don’t you have to be up at five?”

“Oh, I know,” he shrugs, “but I’m feeling good and I’m on a roll,”

“Okay,” you nod, pulling out your phone, “what’s open around here right now?”

“y/n,” Hongjoong leans forwards in his chair, resting a hand on your knee softly, “you don’t have to stay with me, you know. If you’d rather go home and get some rest,”

“Oh,” you meet his eyes, “if you want some space to work alone you can always ask me,”

“Oh no, no,” he shakes his head vehemently, resting his other hand on your other knee, “I like having you here, I just don’t want you to stay just for me if you’re tired,”

“I’m not tired,” you shake your head, though if you were being honest, you really, really are.

After a moment, with his hands still on you, he leans forwards a little in his chair, “I should be asking you what you need, I’m sorry. What do you want to eat? My treat, and we can work wherever you want, here or home,”

You know things like this are hard for him. You’ve noticed the way he separates himself from the group a little, intensely focused on his work and filling his personal time with more and more music. He takes his leadership position seriously, but that also means he gets singularly focused, fixated, and forgetful about the little things. Being in a relationship with him could easily be trying if you weren’t passionate about the same things, and if this were a normal partnership, you’re sure you’d barely see him.

“I’ll eat anything,” you shrug, “but let’s go home, I think a change of scenery would be good.”

“We can do that,” he assures you.

You turn in your chair to reach for your laptop and close it, but Hongjoong makes no moves to follow you, or to take his hands off you and you glance back, realizing that he’s watching you with a disconnected look in his eyes.

You pull back to center and catch his eyes, “You’re exhausted, I can tell,”

He shakes his head, “It’s not that,”

He’s lying to you, just a little white lie, but you don’t press him. His thumb massages a circle on your knee through the fabric of your trousers, and he presses his lips together in a tight line for a moment. You’re about to ask what’s wrong when he reaches for you, pulling you forwards quickly and locking his mouth to yours.

              You make a squeak of surprise, certainly not expecting him to kiss you, but recover quickly, relaxing into his touch. It’s been weeks since you arrived, and you were spending more and more time with him, but up to this point he’s never made a move. You were used to the boys cornering you in the kitchen now or pulling you into their arms to cuddle on the couch, but Hongjoong never did.

              He cups the back of your neck with his warm hand and sighs against your mouth, his other hand sliding up the outside of your thigh. Your knees part, and he slides his chair forwards, your legs interlocking now as he deepens the kiss, probing your mouth with his tongue.

              You push forwards, one of your hands anchored on his shoulder while the other holds onto his upper arm. He kisses with intensity, and this is the first time it feels like he’s throwing out the need to think things through and instead just feel. The position between the chairs isn’t conducive to anything more, but you gasp against his mouth when his hand slips under the hemline of your shirt to find your bare back.

              His teeth catch your bottom lip as you pull away and when your eyes flutter back open to meet his, his direct stare burns through you, the sensation of his skin on yours, a sudden curling tightness in your gut.

              “Joong,” you breathe, but you can’t quite come up with anything more to say.

              His hands slip off you and he pushes his chair back and away, moving to stand and pack up his bag. He keeps his eyes away from you, and the sudden tension between you doesn’t make sense, the way he seems to be running hot and cold. You watch him for a minute, still not meeting your eyes and focused on packing up his things, clearing his throat quietly shrugging on his coat, pulling a beanie on over his hair.

              Standing, you approach him and rest a hand on his arm, “What’s wrong?”

              “What?” He glances to the side at your hand on his arm and shakes his head, “Nothing, nothing.”

              “Then what’s all this?” You nod towards him, “You’re acting strange.”

              His face clears and he finally looks back to you, “I’m sorry,” he says genuinely.

              You move around to face him eye to eye and rest your hands on his forearms, “So, what’s wrong?”

              He shakes his head, “We just shouldn’t do that here,”

              “Oh,” you nod, “of course, but it’s okay, we’re alone.”

              “y/n,” he sighs.

              “I’m not saying we should,” you clarify, “I’m saying you don’t need to be upset, we slipped for a second but we’re alone in a room without windows. No one saw us, and we won’t do it again.”

              He considers your words for a moment and nods. “It’s my fault,” he says, “I had a momentary lapse in judgement,”

              “It’s okay,” you repeat, “but you know, it was nice. For later, at home.”

              He smiles finally, “I’m sorry I panicked,”

              “It’s fine,” you assure him.

              “It was nice though,” he smiles, quirking an eyebrow at you, “right?”

              “Really, really nice,”

              He watches you for a moment, considering, and then he’s crowding you again before you can take another breath, pushing into your space suddenly and walking you backwards until your back connects with the door. His mouth secures to yours and his hands are suddenly everywhere. His bag slips from his shoulder, landing softly with a thud on the ground and he deepens the kiss, a groan on his lips as he presses his body against yours.

              You stretch up on tip toe to match his height better and loop your arms around his shoulders, his hands slip inside your shirt, pushing up the fabric just enough for one hand to coast warmly along your stomach before anchoring on your hip. His tongue flicks against yours, and his fingers squeeze you perfectly, one of his knees slotting between your open thighs.

              “Hongjoong,” you murmur against his mouth, “we have to stop,”

              “I know,” he says when he breaks the kiss for a moment, but he drags you back to his mouth, his hands rucking up your shirt higher.

              You gasp against his lips as his fingers brush the underside of your breast, coasting along the mesh of your bra and cupping the soft swell in his palm. Things are escalating quickly, and when he pulls you from your closed in position against the door to walk you back to the couch and push you gently down onto the cushions you feel your brain spinning.

              “Oh my god,” you groan against his lips when he settles above you between your now open knees, dropping his weight down above you and cupping your jaw as he devours your mouth again.

              “You’re so,” he shakes his head, regarding you in the dim studio light, “fuck, I don’t know,”

              You smile up at him, “What is it?”

              “You make me want to do stupid things, y/n,” he bites his lip quickly as he looks down at you, “and this is really, really stupid,”

              “We should stop,” you tell him honestly, even though you want nothing more than to keep going right here on this couch, “the door’s not even locked,”

              He blinks and glances over his shoulder, remembering himself immediately and pushing up and off you, clearing his throat and sighing, “We need to go home,”

              “Yeah,” you agree, pulling yourself up and smoothing down your hair, “home,”

              He starts to pack up your bag for you, letting you take a minute to right your clothes and look a little less conspicuous. When he turns back to you, he smiles and passes you the bag, “You should fix your lipstick,”

              Your hand flies to your lips and you blush before rifling through your back for the little hand mirror you know is somewhere inside, “How bad is it?”

              “You look pretty thoroughly kissed,” he grins suddenly, looking proud of himself as he picks up his bag from the floor and hitches it over his shoulder.

              When you catch sight of yourself, he’s absolutely right, the pinkness of your lipstick smudged away fully in a hazy smear, and you do your best to control the obvious mess with a tissue and a fresh coat of gloss. “We can’t do that here again, someone will say something,”

              “You’re right,” he nods, “it was a one-time thing,”

              You stand and slip the mirror away, meeting his eyes, “Exactly, but… if do you want to kiss me, you can kiss me at home, you know,”

              He makes a little face, a slight grimace, and hums, “I don’t really like to share,”

              Your gut tightens, “Hongjoong, you’re not... I don’t want to come between,”

              “It’s not that,” he interrupts, “I don’t mean it that way,”

              “How do you mean it?”

              “I’m not,” he shifts from foot to foot and searches for the right words, his eyes leaving yours, “I’m not comfortable with this kind of thing with other people around. And we’re never alone,”

              “Oh,” it clicks into place, “you don’t like public displays of affection,”

              “Right,” he nods.

              “You could have told me,” You nudge his arm, “I think we could have figured out ways to be alone if that’s what you wanted. I thought you were just giving me space or something,”

              “That too,” he takes your hand in his, “but I don’t know, I can never relax like that. Not like the others can,”

              “That’s okay,” you assure him.

              “It would be easier if I was more like that, I know that,” he smiles, closed lipped and seeming apologetic, “but it’s not something I can easily do,”

              “I’m not asking you to,” you shake your head, “I like you. I like you like this, no other way.”

              “I like you too,” he squeezes your hand in his.

              “Let’s go home,” you squeeze him back, “let’s get some food, and get some more work done, and if you want to continue this, just come to my room later. It doesn’t have to be a whole thing,”

              He nods, “I’d like that,”

              “Good,” you sigh and lean in quick to press a fast kiss to his lips, “I would too, now let’s get going,”

              He smiles at you again and picks up your bag to hand it back to you before slinging his own over his shoulder. This time, you make it to the door successfully and as you leave the building, a good foot of space between you now that there’s a possibility someone could see you.

              On the way home in the back of the manager’s van you talk about work more, you pick up udon on the way and slip into the dorms with a couple of bags of takeout and a plan. The dorms are fairly quiet, they’ve had a lighter schedule before the next few days of back-to-back shooting and late nights. Wooyoung is visiting his family and Seonghwa is out with old friends, and you suspect the others are tucked away in their rooms to get some rest before the early morning.

              Hongjoong reassembles his portable workstation on the acrylic coffee table as you lay out the food, sorting though and popping open the containers. “I’m getting a water,” you tell him as you head into the kitchen, “do you want anything?”

              “Um,” he trails off, and you know he’s thinking about something else, “yeah, yes,”

              When you come back, two glasses of water in hand, you can’t help but smile. He’s rearranged the food slightly so that your laptop and headphones can sit on the coffee table too, and he’s poking through your bag to find the notebook and pen you favor to scribble down relevant thoughts to yourself. He hears you return, tossing a glance in your direction and you see one of his cheeks is already full with a dumpling.

              “Mm,” he says, mouth still full, “do you want to go through these new audio samples with me?”

              You nod, setting your glasses down and settling on the floor next to him, pulling your knees up to your chest and grabbing a container off the table to get something in your stomach. “What have you got?”

              “I’m thinking about something different for my project,”

              You listen as he sifts through files on his laptop, pausing every so often to take another bite of food. He explains, walking through what he’s looking for and asking your thoughts. You’ve come to find out that with Hongjoong, if he’s not working on a project for Ateez, he’s working on something personal. He has a back catalogue of partially complete songs and files upon files on his computer of samples and rap verses.

              When you first started working with him, you tried suggesting that he rest or relax – to try just watching a movie or hanging out, but the truth of it is that if he’s not making music, he’s thinking about music, so you let that notion go quickly.              

              Somewhere around the bottom of your bowl of noodles you hear him sigh, heavy, and scrub his eyes. He hasn’t found what he wants yet, and the thought deep in his brain must be specific. You don’t know Eden well yet, but when Hongjoong is like this he reminds you of him, just a little less polished and a little more chaotic, though that could certainly just be the years of experience.

              “Sometimes walking away for a bit helps,” you remind him as you set your empty container back on the table, “if I can’t figure it out, I don’t force it.”

              “Mm,” he nods and leans back against the edge of the couch behind you, “you’re right, it’s just bothering me.”

              You shift, propping up one arm on the couch cushion and leaning your chin in your hand, angling towards him fully now, “I understand,”

              He gives you a small smile and blinks hard, and you can tell he’s exhausted and just trying to shake off the tiredness.

              “Hongjoong,” you murmur, “do you always work this hard?”

              His lips quirk and he turns his body towards yours on the floor, your knees pressed against each other and he gets comfortable and takes a mental moment away from the task at hand. “It’s not always work,”

              “I know,” you nod, “believe me I get that,”

              “Mhm,” he nods, “how’s your stuff coming along?” He gestures towards your open laptop, and you smile. He’s been watching you work on some personal projects every night for weeks and short of asking his opinion on small things, he hasn’t really heard the near finished product of your newest piece.

              “Good,” you reply, “do you want to hear it?”

              “All of it?” he perks up.

              “Yeah,”

              “Let’s go,” he gestures towards your laptop and as you reach over to get your headphones for him and move the laptop closer, he stretches and stands, moving to the couch behind your back and laying down on his back, reaching out a hand for the headphones.

              “What are you doing?” You laugh, handing them over.

              “Giving it my full attention,” he settles the headphones over his ears and gets comfortable.

              “Okay,” you wait for him to give you the go ahead, and then you press play and watch him sink into it. With a sigh, you lean back against the couch, keeping your eyes away from him so you don’t make yourself nervous about his reaction and you wait.

              Hongjoong reaches out, settling his hand on your shoulder before sliding it to rest against your neck and you feel his thumb tapping out a rhythm on your skin. His hand slows, stilling and relaxing against you, and you wait longer.

              You watch the song draw to a close on your laptop, and still, he doesn’t move. You chew the inside of your lip and wait, fingers bouncing on your knee, but when you finally twist your head to see his reaction, you realize he’s asleep. His mouth is parted, breathing steady and slow, and his expression is finally relaxed. You know he’s been exhausted.

              Quietly you remove the headphones from his head and move slowly, hoping not to wake him, but he barely shifts. He’s already sleeping heavily, and only when you shift forwards to pull your laptop closer, his hand on your shoulder tightens slightly. You want to wake him and put him to bed, you want to put yourself to bed, but after days of running late nights and his early day tomorrow you don’t have the heart to move.

              It’s late, but you can stay up a little longer, you can give him some time to rest. Within minutes you’re back to work, and twenty minutes turn into forty as you edit.

              “He’s asleep early,” Seonghwa’s low voice startles you slightly and you jump, pulling off your headphones completely and turning to look.

              Hongjoong’s hand is still resting on your shoulder, and you see the way that Seonghwa notes it. Early for Hongjoong is any time before two in the morning, and Seonghwa smiles as he comes around the couch and gets a good look at you both.

              “Did you just get home?” You ask him quietly.

              “Mhm,” he nods, slipping off his oversized brown blazer and laying it over the back of a chair, “I haven’t caught up with my hometown friends in a while, so we just kept talking,”

              “That’s nice,” you smile, and glance down at where Hongjoong’s hand has now shifted in his sleep to sit a little lower and splay over your shoulder and onto your chest.

              “Did he…” Seonghwa considers his words for a moment and then shrugs, “did you go on a date or something?”

              You can’t help but laugh, “No, no, just a late night at the studio and I’m trying to make sure he eats something more substantial than a protein bar.” You gesture to the empty containers around you.

              Hongjoong makes a grumbled noise behind you and rolls over suddenly, his hand disappearing over your shoulder as he tucks himself up tightly facing the back of the couch and sighs heavy in his sleep. Seonghwa smiles warmly, his eyes on his friend. “You’ve been staying late with him, I hardly see you,”

              “I know,” you sigh, “but I just feel like I can’t get enough of the studio,”

              “That’s good,” he nods, “you should love it,”

              “It’s hard to leave him when he’s working, too,” you glance back at Hongjoong’s sleeping form.

              “Mm,” Seonghwa shifts to come and sit on the floor by you, keeping your voices low, “I know what you mean.”

              You’re quiet for a beat, enjoying his sudden closeness and warmth after missing each other for days, “Did you want some of the food? We have plenty left,” you offer him.

              “Maybe in a bit,” he smiles, “but we have an early day tomorrow,”

              “I know,” you nod your head towards Hongjoong, “that’s why I’m glad he’s sleeping. He needs the rest.”

              Seonghwa nods and looks at his friend again, “Let me help you clean this up,” he says gesturing towards the containers on the coffee table and pulling himself to his feet. He packs up the food with ease and you move to help him, shutting Hongjoong’s laptop and tucking it back into his bag to protect it from any potential spills. Quietly you both wrap up the food nod toss any of the trash in a bag, and Seonghwa wipes off the table and sets the remote back to its rightful place.

              “Come this way,” Seonghwa waves you over and you follow him into the kitchen, helping him tuck the leftovers away in the fridge.

              He sighs and leans back against the counter, “I didn’t want to wake him, and we can talk a little better here.”

              You nod and step towards him, and he rests his hands comfortably on your hips, “Good idea,”

              “How are things, love?” He murmurs, bringing you another step closer and keeping his voice soft and low.

              “Busy,” you rest your hands on his chest to balance yourself better as he wraps his arms around you a little more, “I knew it would be, but I don’t know how you all do it.”

              “We’re used to it,” he tells you, “but it’s still hard.” He reaches up, cupping your cheek softly in his hand, “You shouldn’t work yourself too hard. Are you eating well? Getting rest?”                     

              The way he looks at you has you warm, his eyes soft and round and full of gentle concern. You shake your head, leaning your cheek into his hand as you do, “I’m good, I promise. It’s a busy schedule, but I like busy.”

              “Would you tell me if you need a break?” One of his eyebrows raise.   

              “Seonghwa,” you shake your head, “you don’t have to take care of me too,”

              He rolls his eyes a little and his hand slips back to hold your neck, his thumb brushing against your jawline, “y/n,” he smiles, “we’re dating, it’s okay to let us take care of you. That’s what people in relationships do for each other. Besides,” he sighs, “I can’t help it, I’m always fussing over everyone.”

              “That’s true,” you tease him a little.

              “Mm,” he nods, his hand tightening on your back as he holds you steady so that he can dip down and kiss you warmly, “So, would you tell me?”

              “If you want me to,” you shake your head, kissing him again and pressing up on your toes to meet his mouth better.

              “Good,” he nuzzles you gently with his nose and his hand slips down to hold your lower back.

              Leaning back from him you meet his eyes, “I am sorry we’ve been missing each other though,” you tell him honestly, “I’ve missed this too,”

              He nods, but before he can respond the light in the kitchen clicks on above you and you both squint at the sudden bright change. You turn, still held in Seonghwa’s arms, and see Jongho padding into the room, a yawn on his lips.

              “Oh,” you move to step away from Seonghwa, leaning into the knee jerk reaction to limit public affection, but Seonghwa doesn’t move except to drop his hands back to your hips and Jongho shakes his head.

              “Relax,” he tells you, reaching up in the cabinet for a glass and then moving to stand next to you and fill his glass with cold water. His hair is mussed, and he’s dressed as casually as you’ve ever seen him, loose white t-shirt and navy sweatpants that hang off his hips and accentuate his muscular build.

              “Can’t sleep?” Seonghwa murmurs.

              Jongho shakes his head, “I keep waking up,”

              “Is something bothering you?” Seonghwa asks, and you feel his hands loosen on your sides as he assesses his friend’s face.

              Jongho shakes his head though and tips the glass back to gulp down half of the water, throwing the tap back on and filling it again, “No, just a little restless.”

              Seonghwa nods, “It’s late,”

              “I’m going to try to get some more sleep, you should too,” You’re sure he’s thinking of their early schedule and his pending alarm. He turns to you, meeting your eyes with a sleepy smile, “Goodnight, y/n,”

              “Night, Jongho,” you murmur, and he squeezes your shoulder before heading back to the door of the kitchen.

              He disappears around the corner, leaving the light on, and when you look back to Seonghwa you see the tired expression on his face despite his smile and flirty nature.

              “I should let you sleep,” you lean into him again, “and I have an early wake up too.”

              “Mm, I know you’re right,” he murmurs.

              “Come on,” you step back from him fully now, and he lets his hands fall away, “we should sleep but I’ll be home when you all get back tomorrow. We can spend some time together if you’re not too exhausted,”

              He nods, “I’d like that,”

              You click the light off, and you hear him follow you out of the room. In the living room, Hongjoong stays tucked towards the back of the couch, sleeping silently. Seonghwa moves past you, grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch and shaking it loose, tucking it around Hongjoong. He picks up Hongjoong’s cell off the table and keys in the passcode, navigating to his clock app and flicking through the alarms. He flips four of them on, all separated by five minutes each, checks the volume on the ringer, and leaves the phone on the table.       

              “Shouldn’t we make him sleep in his own bed?” You whisper.

              “If we wake him up, he’ll just stay up. It’s better to let him sleep here,” Seonghwa says.

              “Ah,” you nod, “let him rest then.”

              Behind the couch Seonghwa pulls you back to him quickly, a soft smile on his lips before he captures your mouth in a kiss. He holds you close, kissing you tenderly before moving away and pressing another quick peck to your hair, “Okay, okay, get to bed,”

              “You too,” you push him away and take a step back, unable to stop smiling at his reluctance to leave you and the butterflies it gives you before he disappears around the corner for bed.

              In the morning, everyone is up and bustling around before you’d normally wake, but the noise gets you up and know there’s no getting back to sleep now. They’re supposed to be filming for the entire day, and you know they won’t be back until late at night, probably after ten. The office was going to be quieter without them, and with no dance practice to go to after your regular workday, you’ll have the night strangely to yourself.

              You’re fixing yourself coffee when Hongjoong’s voice behind you makes you jump and almost drop the sugar spoon.

              “I fell asleep on you last night,” he says, but when he watches you jump, he rushes to apologize, “Sorry, sorry, good morning,”

              “Morning,” you smile, turning and laughing, “I know, I just thought you could use the rest,”

              “Mm,” he nods, “Still, I’m sorry, I wanted to spend some more time with you,”

              The innuendo wouldn’t be obvious to anyone, but after the fevered kisses in the studio and your offer for him to come to your room, you know what he means. Your cheeks heat a little, and it catches you how handsome he is like this – bare faced and relaxed, a backwards cap covering his hair and his clothes casual and oversized since the stylists would be dressing them on site.

              He smiles at your expression, noting your pink cheeks, and he softly clears his throat, “Have a good day at the office today,”

              “Thanks,” behind you the rest of the boys are bumping into each other and trying to get ready in the small space, but you take the moment to reach out and take Hongjoong’s hand, squeezing once and then letting it go. His eyes flick over you, and as you start to tell him to have a good day, to be safe, he closes the gap between you and presses his lips to yours.

              He leans in a little further, his hand anchoring on your waist, and you sigh into his touch, kissing him back until he finally leans away and drops his hands. His back is to the rest of the members, but no one is really watching. There’s a lingering smile on Seonghwa’s mouth that you catch, but there’s no telling exactly what put it there.

              “Okay,” Hongjoong nods, looking a little lighter, “I’ll see you later then,”

              “Yeah,”

              “I’ll finish listening to the song tonight, okay?” He tells you, “I do really want to hear it,”

              At the commotion behind you in the living room you usher him out, pushing him towards the door, “I know,”

              It’s still dark outside as their cars all pull away, leaving you alone in the dorms to get ready for work. You’re getting the sense that these odd hours and difficult schedules are going to get worse over the next few months with a comeback on the horizon and a tour scheduled after that. The least you can do is be helpful, to try and lessen their stress even a little, and if they can work as hard as they’re working, you can too.

a/n: next chapter is in the works! hoping to post next weekend and get back on a normal schedule! after that i already have chapters 14 through 19 mostly complete!

💌 - taglist:  @butterfliesinthenightsky @stitch3s @flowerboykun @theartofhotchinthesnow @spookydanielle @mangislovur @inarinabina @justanotherkpopstanlol @parkurhope @bikou0327 @teti-menchon0604 @becauseiloveyunho @stardustmoonlightteaandbooks @yeosangsbiceps @auhhrii @multifandomizer @softsugababes @amazingly-amazing-loser @bangtanxberm @nyxmoon @xosim @arkive78 @elk-1998 @tenebrisirae @mysticfire0435 @jo-hwaberry @ddeonghwva @meginthebuilding27 @sookacc @noonaishere @lucenchan @asjkdk @yunhosprettyhand @realliquanzhe @simplyaghostsworld

#into the aurora series #into the aurora fic #ateez series #ateez fic #ateez #seonghwa #hongjoong #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #seonghwa x reader #hongjoong x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #honeyhotteoks fics

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If You'll Be My Bodyguard | Part Six

If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist

Summary: The last mad dash through awards season has unfortunate consequences for Austin and you, but against the odds, you still make it to the Academy Awards.

Pairing: Austin Butler x Female Bodyguard Reader

Warnings: Language, Threats of Violence, Ongoing Stalker/Obsession Issues, Reader Has Body Issues, Austin Is Having None Of It, More Screenings, COVID-19 Rapid Test, COVID-19 Infection, Sickness, More Parties, Firearms, Wardrobe Malfunction, Austin and Reader In A Public Washroom Again, Sexual Tension, Innuendos, Rating - T.

Credit: Julian Ungano

Word Count: 4756

“…Satan, the great deceiver, has his claws so deeply into your flawed flesh, Butler. Has connvinced you that stealing the soul on Elvis Aaron Presley from his eternal rest for your own gains was a good thing. DECEIVED. Has connvinced you that you are safe with that godless whore by your side, taking my strikes meant for you on her body. DECEIVED. Has connvinced you that I have been stopped now that the unholy cops of Santa Barbara have taken my angel Gabriel from me. DECEIVED. I shall not be stopped until my work is done…”

Though getting a personal mention in the latest letter made your lips twitch into a smirk, you could not help but notice the increased level of rage in her latest missive. The iPad sank onto your knees as your eyes went unfocused, your mind’s eye turning back to reflect on the glimpses you’d managed to catch of the unknown woman, Austin’s threatening stalker, before Austin’s anguish-filled eyes flooded your memory and made you swallow painfully.

You closed the email from Scott containing the scanned copy of the letter and glanced at your watch, wondering how late Shyla would be. Austin’s laughter cascaded down the stairs from where he was partaking in a virtual interview in his bedroom to allow you the main floor to work with Shyla on finally choosing a gown for the Oscars. The schedule had been so hectic that it had not been possible to make time to go to her, and thus she was coming to you with some options today. Another warm laugh reached your ears and made you smile softly.

It had been a good thing, you reflected, that Austin’s father had arrived the night after the incident at the hotel. He had been a comforting and reassuring presence and restored some of Austin’s usual good humour – they had both delighted in the confusion that reigned with two Mr. Butler’s for you to manage at the Screen Actor’s Guild Awards. Austin’s red suit, consisting of three pieces no less, had also seemed like a personal assault on your reaffirmed vow of professionalism. And while it had been a shame that Austin had not taken home the award that night, you could not help but be struck by the growing sense of camaraderie amongst the nominees…and the elder Mr. Butler had also been able to witness his son assisting the leading ladies of Hollywood to the stage, which you were certain filled him with fatherly pride all the same.

Your phone buzzed with a call from the gate, and you quickly answered, pleased to hear Shyla’s rushed greeting mixed with an apology about traffic.

“Come on in, Shyla!” You hit nine on the number pad to unlock the gate and opened the front door to see her pull in, stepping out to help her with a collapsible garment rack and eight garment bags. “This seems like a lot of choices…”

“We have to make sure you look perfect” She grinned, her fashionable, jet-black bob glossy in the afternoon sun.

“You remember that no one is really going to see me, right?” You teased but she was already making her way inside, setting up the rack in the living room.

Following with a shake of your head, you hung the bags on the rack carefully, watching as she eagerly unzipped them to reveal a variety of dresses. They were in neutral shades, as prescribed for the non-talent attendees, but you frowned a little as only half of them had sleeves.

“I know, I know…” She said, immediately reading your face. “Will you please just humour me? I want you to try them all, so we get a really good picture.”

You crinkled your nose but took a slow breath and nodded.

“All right, where do you want me to start?” You tilted your head and took the first one she offered you, a cloud grey scoop neck with thin straps and A-line skirt.

Taking it carefully, you went to change in Austin’s office, which was now essentially your permanent bedroom, and returned to the living room, desperately fighting the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. Shyla tilted her head thoughtfully, walking around you in a circle silently as she took in the full look.

“Well?” You asked hesitantly, not able to see yourself.

“Oh! Oh, come here…” She led you by the shoulders into the powder room where there was a mirror where you could at least see yourself at least from the waist up.

“Oil me up and put me in the ring…Hulk Hogan is here…” You groaned before assuming the ‘most muscular pose’ from body building – your legs spread wide, and your torso bent forward as you flexed and curled your arms inward to show off every exposed inch of muscle on your body. “Whatcha gonna do when Hulkmania runs wild on you?!” You growled in an impersonation of the professional wrestler.

“Betty, darling, I don’t think you’re being very kind to yourself right now…” Austin suddenly appeared, leaning against the door frame with his eyebrows raised.

Shyla, who had been giggling beside you in the tiny room, gasped sharply as you felt heat flush across your face and down your neck.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Butler, did we disturb you?” You immediately straightened, biting your lip.

“No I am finished, and you don’t owe me an apology…” He glanced around the bathroom. “Is this really where you’re doing this? Come on…” He grabbed your hands and pulled you out of the bathroom, Shyla following silently in tow.

He swung by the living room, grabbing the other gowns and easily holding them off the ground as he led you upstairs and down the hall into his dressing room. The last time you had been in here it had been impossibly full of his girlfriend’s clothes but now it felt more spacious with only his things. He hung up the gowns and gently led you by the shoulders to stand in front of a full length mirror before turning on the lights so you had an even better view of how much you hated yourself in this dress. He stepped aside.

“There’s the person you need to apologize to.” He said once you were alone with your reflection, and you looked to him slowly, feeling caught red handed.

“I…” You looked back to your reflection and sighed.

“Have you ever been to the ballet?” Austin asked as he stepped closer and you nodded slowly, puzzled. “And how would you describe a ballerina?”

“Elegant, graceful, beautiful.” You replied easily, without hesitation.

“Have you seen one up close? Their bodies are just as muscular as yours…just because you use yours differently doesn’t negate the fact that you are elegant, graceful, and beautiful yourself.”

The breath shuddered out of your lungs as your eyes flashed to his in the mirror, wide with shock and disbelief.

“Not to mention brave, fearless, intelligent, funny, and a little unpredictable which I thoroughly enjoy. So don’t you dare make fun of your body because this dress looks bad on it…the dress is the problem.” He continued earnestly, blue eyes stubbornly piercing into yours, holding you captive as he cut through all your insecurities as though they were mere paper fictions instead of concrete walls you had constructed around yourself.

You blinked rapidly, ripping your eyes from his gaze forcefully as you tried to hold back the rising tide of emotion, any words you might have spoken congealing in your throat. You felt him squeeze your shoulders reassuringly and sniffed a little, swiping at a few rogue tears.

“So, lets try another dress please…” He looked to Shyla warmly and she quickly introduced herself before offering you the next dress.

You took it quickly, crossing the hall to a larger bathroom to change into a black dress with a smocked waist and balloon sleeves. Taking a few extra moments and a few tissues, you composed yourself before returning to the dressing room where Austin had found a stool for you to step onto, as though you were in a private dress shop. He turned out to be the pickiest of the three of you, rejecting this dress for seeming too casual, and the next with its asymmetrical straps in camel for being too plain.

The fourth dress, a navy chiffon with a plunge neckline with sheer sleeves and full skirt, had you returning to the room with a small smile on your face and a little more confidence. Both Austin and Shyla could see it. Could see that the colour, while neutral, was still stunning, and that confidence looked good on you. You tested the slit, kicking out your leg and doing your utmost to deny the fact that you saw Austin’s adam’s apple bob violently at the sudden appearance of your flesh. Because that did not happen. No.

“I only hesitate with the neckline and…well slippage…I know there’s netting but…”

“Oh!” Shyla’s face lit up. “We have body tape for that!” She pulled a roll from her bag and twirled it between her fingers. “It’s got double-sided adhesive that helps fabric stay exactly where you want it.” She nodded.

“This is definitely the front runner for me…” Austin murmured from beside you and you took another look in the mirror before nodding in agreement.

“Me, too.”

It remained that way, too, despite the other four dresses that Shyla had brought with her. None fit you quite as well as the navy one, nor made you feel the same way either – sleeved and sleeveless alike.

“That settles it then.” You nodded with a sigh of relief, happy to finally have gotten that decision out of the way.

Austin insisted on storing it in the dressing room for you to keep it safe, and helped you and Shyla load the other dresses and garment rack back into her vehicle before she headed out. Standing on the driveway together as the sun began to sink lower in the sky, you turned towards him softly and smiled.

“Thank you, Austin.” You said softly, pressing your lips together as you felt another overwhelming wave of emotion.

“Couldn’t have you saying that garbage about yourself under my roof now, Betty.” He smiled fondly, slinging his arm around your shoulders, leading you inside. “Homemade pizza for dinner?”

You followed him in eagerly, tempted by the sensation that this was a normal night in your normal life…because it felt so right.

The bone-aching fatigue you woke up with that Saturday should have been more of a warning sign. Should have registered in your fatigued brain that something was off, but you simply brushed it off as awards season burn-out and had a little extra caffeine that day. When Austin came down the stairs in his tuxedo-striped pants and long coat to attend the screening that evening, your heart raced fiercely, and you were briefly concerned you had overdone it. This man, the man you were meant to protect, just might be the death of you himself.

And while to the public he appeared himself, and the video they found of him from a newscast as a small boy was adorable, you noticed. Noticed the way that his eyes seemed a little greyer than normal, the way he needed to clear his throat more often, the effort needed to conjure that breathtaking smile, the way his heels dragged a little on the way to the car once the final screening was complete. It should have been cause for celebration, but you were all eager to go home and get to bed.

Everything clicked into place when you awoke the next morning with the sensation that someone had spent the nighttime hours sandblasting your eyes, throat, and sinuses. Your joints, your skin, even the roots of your hair hurt, and despite the heap of blankets on your body you felt the urge to shiver. You forced yourself out of bed, rifling through your bag to find a rapid test kit and performed a throat and nose swab. You managed to limit your sneezes to only eight, a small victory, before leaving the test to marinate, setting a timer as you slid back into the refuge of bed.

The chime of the timer startled you awake, making it obvious you had drifted off, and you stood to look at the test strip, sighing heavily at the clear positive. You took a photo and sent it to Scott before texting Austin.

– Mr. Butler, you should do a rapid test, I am symptomatic and tested positive. I’m so sorry. –

Frowning deeply, you found some cold and flu meds in your kit and took them, sitting back on the bed, blinking as there was a knock at your door.

“Me too, Betty. Come out here I’m making tea…” Came a very stuffy voice through the door.

You pulled on a hoodie and shuffled out, pausing to bend down and scritch Biscuit warmly in greeting, before meeting Austin in the kitchen.

“Don’t apologize for this, either…” He paused to cough into his elbow. “Brendan and Colin both had it a few weeks ago…it’s just our turn I suppose.”

“Did you take something?” You asked, finding a couple of mugs as he got the water boiling, smiling a little as he nodded. “Good.”

“Flavour?” He opened the tea drawer, and you chose your preferred tea, and he did the same.

“Are you hungry at all? Eggs? Soup? Toast?” Even though you were also sick, you still felt a need to take care of him.

“Let’s make eggs and toast because we need to eat…” He nodded and the pair of you shuffled around each other in a silent dance, making food for fuel instead of pleasure, settling onto the couch with blankets and tea.

Biscuit happily nuzzled in between the pair of you as you took turns picking movies and TV shows, easting and drinking as your bodies demanded. You were relieved when Ari tested negative, glad no one else was suffering.

“Honestly, it’s been so non-stop I’m not at all surprised this happened…” He sighed softly and you nodded.

“I had no idea what an insane pace this sort of thing involves…you should get awards just for the trouble of going through it…” You shook your head, grinning as he chuckled, frowning as it devolved into coughing.

As the sun sank lower, you felt his head fall onto your shoulder, heavy with the involuntary nap that overtook him. You smiled fondly and made sure he was tucked in, leaning back against the couch more firmly to brace the pair of you knowing that the soft sighs of his sleeping breath would surely pull you under in short order. You were not expecting, however, to wake enveloped in his arms, tucked under his chin with your bodies stretched out on the couch. You were both on your sides, covered by blankets, with Biscuit curled up at your feet. Austin must have woken up at some point and adjusted the pair of you to be more comfortable.

Because comfortable this was. Heavenly even. You felt so utterly pathetic and unwell and his embrace so warm and soothing, his hands splayed across your back, that you made the deliberate decision to nuzzle back into his chest as though you had never awakened. When you next opened your eyes, he was outside with Biscuit and you crept to your bed, taking the coward’s way out and pretending you never even knew it happened.

The two of you were equally ill and useless the next day, ordering in Thai soup in an attempt to be able to taste what you were eating. By the third day, you started to feel a little better, and the fourth even more so. Day five, the last day of Academy enforced quarantine, you both managed to shake off the last vestiges of infection and plan out the last sprint to the Awards ceremony on Sunday.

“And then I understand that you wanted to travel somewhere following that. Have you made a decision about where?” You tilted your head curiously, sitting on the patio with him and Biscuit, enjoying the sunshine and feeling of a healthy body – something seldom enjoyed unless one had just recovered from something.

“Somewhere warm – tropical even. Far from the usual spots…Honestly, I think I’ll book it on Monday or Tuesday, see where the wind takes me. Everything’s been so planned that I just want to be spontaneous.” He leaned back on his lounge chair and you nodded warmly, hardly blaming him for wanting some agency back in his life. “Besides, you’ll be there, so it’ll be perfect.” He grinned teasingly and you laughed shaking your head, but unable to resist the urge to smooth a bit of your hair tousled by the gentle breeze that day.

The pre-Oscar events seemed just like the dozens of other cocktail parties you’d attended over the past two months, with mostly the same attendees, all desperate to fawn over Austin especially after his illness-mandated absence. Despite being technically recovered, you were still tired when you returned home early Sunday morning and more than a little touched when Marwan offered to do your laundry for the week when he found you loading the washing machine.

You were surprised by the number of stylists who arrived at noon to help Austin prepare for the Academy Awards, only to be informed that half of them were there for you. You narrowed you eyes as he watched them haul you into the spare room, his own gaze filled with glee at having fooled you. After nearly two hours of attention focused solely on you, something that you found utterly overwhelming and perhaps a little embarrassing, you went down to your room to change, moving to grab your undergarments and thigh holster, smiling at the stack of neatly folded laundry on your bed.

Only to blink as the holster and garter lay there right on top. You swore under your breath. In your sleepy haze, you must have put it into the washing machine the night before. Knowing it was handwash only, you inspected it carefully, almost chewing your lip but mercifully remembering it was covered in lipstick. To your eyes, it seemed to be in normal condition, and they slid into place without issue. Sliding your pocket pistol into the holster, you carefully pulled on your dress before finishing the look with comfortable heels and stepped out to meet Austin, waiting in his tuxedo.

“My, my, my…you clean up very nicely.” He smiled warmly, using your real name with an affectionate tone that threatened to turn your knees to jelly.

“Thank you. I suppose you’ll be happy not to put on another tuxedo for a while?” You smiled shyly, your lips morphing into a broad grin as he laughed richly with an enthusiastic nod.

“Truer words…shall we?” He offered his arm, and you took it carefully, corralling the volume of your skirt with your other hand so the pair of you could make it through the doorway.

Out of habit, you headed for the front seat, but Austin grasped your wrist.

“Ah, ah, ah…pretty ladies get to ride in the back.” He grinned and you rolled your eyes.

Across the vehicle, Ari wolf-whistled teasingly.

“Both of you are terrible…” You muttered but complied, gathering your skirts and sliding into the back with Austin.

He grinned at you warmly once he settled into his seat and Ari had pulled out, but you noticed his leg bouncing a little with pent up energy.

“I thought your agent was joining you this evening?” You asked, trying to distract him.

“Hmm? James? Oh yeah, he’s meeting us there, he’ll be with Kate when we’re dropped off…” His fingers reached out, toying a little with the fluffy chiffon of your skirt. “You really did pick the right dress, you know…”

You found yourself smiling shyly, the back of the SUV feeling instantaneously all too intimate.

“Thank you again for your help with that…” You repeated softly and he nodded firmly.

He lapsed into a comfortable silence, watching the scenery pass by the window until it felt like you were suddenly pulling up to the curb just beside the entrance to the red carpet. Austin slid out and jogged around, insisting on helping you out. You were about to step out when you felt something loosen beneath your skirt and quickly reached up the slit in the fabric to find the garter strap had come unclasped.

“Sorry Austin, just a moment.” You muttered, mortified, and he quickly looked aside, throat bobbing with a visible swallow, but continued to shield you with his body as you snapped it back into place.

“Thank you very much, sorry about that.” You said warmly and he took your hand, helping you from the car with a bright smile.

Kate and James were waiting as Austin predicted, Kate exclaiming over your dress and pulling you close, overcome by the celebratory atmosphere of the evening.

You assumed the usual bag and took their personal effects for safe keeping during the red carpet walk. There were a tremendous number of press and fans this time, and it was harder to map your theoretical path towards Austin through the sea of people, but you did your best to remain focused. Whether your face was becoming familiar, or because you were dressed in a way that did not insist upon people ignoring you, you also found a lot of people, talent and non-talent both, greeting and complimenting your look. You missed the particularly heated smolder that the photographers were capturing from Austin as a result.

Nearly three quarters of the way through the gauntlet, you felt the garter strap give again. Felt gravity begin to pull down on the firearm and the thigh holster in turn, with each step you took. You shifted the bag over to that arm, hoping to cover as much of your thigh as possible lest people catch a glimpse of what you were trying to conceal. You clenched your thighs together, trying to take mincing steps, hoping the friction would hold it in the place. The doors to the building were in sight now, you just needed a washroom to dart into and resecure the damned thing.

At last, you were inside the lobby to the theatre and Austin collected his phone and things. You leaned up to whisper in his ear.

“I’m just going to find the washroom, will you be ok?”

He looked at you puzzled, as this was highly unusual for you, but nodded quickly.

“Of course, Betty, I’ll be right here.” He nodded and squeezed your shoulder, watching you shuffle your way into the single-stalled washroom nearby.

You set the bag on the counter and set your heel on the edge of it, tossing back the skirt and hiked the holster back up into place. Lining up the garter strap and clip, you managed to secure it, only to have it pop back open immediately. There was a knock at the door, and you glanced at it, swallowing.

“Just a moment!” You tried not to sound as frustrated as you felt.

“Betty, it’s me.” Austin’s worried tone came through the door.

“I’ll be right out!” You were just about the close the clasp again when the cursed thing disintegrated in your fingers. “Fuck!” You hissed and he knocked more insistently.

“Betty let me in.” He said firmly.

“No! No, I’ll be fine.” You protested stubbornly, even though you had no idea how you were going to solve this one.

“Betty you’re going to open the door or I’m going to break it down and how do you think that will look.” He practically threatened and you huffed wildly at the entire situation, stomping over to unlock the door.

He slipped in quickly, locking it behind him with a look of concern etched on his features.

“Are you ok? You never leave me in public and I’m worried about you…” His eyes quickly scanned your face and he frowned.

“It’s not…” You bit your lip and sighed heavily at the taste of lipstick. “it’s the damned holster, the garter clip has failed, and it won’t stay up without it and everyone is going to see my gun or me yanking at something under my skirt or both if I don’t fix this.” You let out in a rush.

“Ok…ok breathe…” He smiled softly. “I’m glad you’re not sick or hurt. Are you wearing underwear?” Austin asked and your jaw dropped incredulously.

“Yes of course I am!” You replied defensively. “But I don’t see why…”

“Good.” He cut you off. “Can I take a look?” He asked as he sank to his knees before you and your vision quite honestly swam for a moment. You realized more than few seconds had passed and you had yet to reply, so you quickly began to gather your skirt up into your hands.

“Uh huh.” You managed to vocalize, turning your gaze skyward as looking at him in that position made you feel faint.

There was utter silence in the small bathroom, both of you holding your breath, neither of you moving, until suddenly you felt the brush of his fingertips against your thigh as he collected the garter strap between his thumb and forefinger to closely inspect the clasp, making you jump violently.

“Easy there, sorry…” He soothed you, his free hand cupping the back of your thigh, and it was honestly up for debate whether or not that was at all helpful. “Ok, in the bag, I got Kate to pack the nipple…uh...the…uh…the body tape…”

You did not miss the way he stuttered after saying word ‘nipple’ while face to face with the apex of your thighs and it brought you a modicum of smug satisfaction to know that he, too, was struggling in this moment. You put as much fabric as you could into one arm and reached into the bag, blindly groping until you found the roll of tape and passed it to him. There was an absence of touch then, and you clenched your eyes shut as you listened to him open the package before jumping again as his fingers brushed against your tender flesh once more. You felt him put the clasp in place before he cleared his throat.

“I need you to hold that closed for me.” He rasped, the damned fiend.

You reached a hand down to pinch it closed, feeling him wind tape around the strap from below the clasp, over the clasp, and a good deal above the clasp for good measure.

“Does that feel good?” He asked and cleared his throat. “Like it’ll hold?” He clarified.

“Y…yes. I think that’s great thanks…” You nodded and he stood smoothly.

Stepping back, you let your skirts fall before bouncing on your heels a little, nodding quickly.

“Very secure, thank you so much.” You added, speaking to the general vicinity of his chest as his eyes were too overwhelming in normal circumstances, let alone whatever these were.

The grey smudges on the knees of his otherwise perfect black trousers caught your eyes and you hissed.

“Wait!”

You quickly grabbed some paper towel and dampened it under the tap, grasping his hip to steady yourself as you swiped the dust and dirt from his knees, nodding once you were satisfied you had erased the evidence of him kneeling in a public washroom. You straightened without thinking, suddenly face-to-face with his chin, his head automatically tilting down, eyes boring into yours.

Time slowed, and existence narrowed to the feel and taste of his breath as tiny puffs of it brushed against your upturned lips just inches from his. Your fingers dug further into his hip, like a ship at anchor in violent seas, and he shifted a fraction closer.

A sharp knock at the door sent you reeling backwards, kick-starting your sluggish heart so it now rabbited at your throat.

“Austin?” You heard Kate’s voice through the door and looked to him with wide eyes. He gave you an equally wide-eyed look in return, mouth opening and closing with things he wanted to say. “Are you in there?”

“On my way, Kate!” He choked out instead and you nodded, cramming yourself into the corner and motioning for him to step out.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you standing alone with the bathroom, faced with the nigh impossible task of pulling yourself back together.

Read Part Seven

If You'll Be My Bodyguard, I Can Be Your Long Lost Pal Masterlist

Tag List: @littlewhiterose, @austinsvlrslut, @emrysdreams, @slowsweetlove, @xstrengthxinxtragedyx, @shelbygeek, @kingdomforapony, @artlover8992, @eliseinmemphis, @haydensith, @breadsquash, @chimchimjiminie16, @qxiva, @lilsiz

#austin butler x reader #austin butler #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #austin butler fem!reader #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #blurredcolour

[amsgrey]

sick days

requested: yes

What sick days are like with Jay and Will.

I wrote this completely forgetting that Covid has the same symptoms and stuff so let's just know that it's not covid. I don't want to say we'll pretend that it isn't a thing because that is extremely ignorant.

Not proofread, so apologies for that.

It took you and your brothers almost two years to get into a steady routine with you and school. After you started high school, it was easier for you to go home after school than to be picked up, but every Friday they would pick you up. It was nice to have a guaranteed afternoon to spend with one of them knowing their busy schedules.

The routine you all established went like this, every morning Jay or Hailey would drop you at school (provided they weren't called in) and on Monday through Wednesday Will would pick you up and take you home or to the precinct. Thursdays and Fridays you'd catch the bus home or to one of your brother's works to bother them. The three of you fell into the routine and stuck to it, the only times it was ever disturbed was when Jay went undercover or Will had to pick up extra shifts. You enjoyed the routine you had set up, it meant that you got to spend time with both of your brothers regularly.

The last few weeks the routine had been abandoned, something about schedule changes at Med and a big case that involved Jay and Hailey working a lot of overtime. That meant you were getting yourself to and from school, which didn't bother you one bit. You tried to stop by Med or the precinct every now and again, bringing them cookies or leaving your brother's stupid notes just so they knew you were okay.

You'd dropped by Med and stashed cookies in the doctor's lounge, Maggie had told you Will had taken a patient upstairs. You could wait to see him but you knew not to bother him when the ED was so busy. You scribbled out a note, 'For the hard-working Doctors and Nurses at Med, except you Will :)', sticking it on the top of the container and giggling as you left. An hour or so later you got a text from Will, Thanks for the crap I got from your note.

Oh, you are very welcome. You replied.

A couple days later you started to feel exhausted, you knew straight away that you were getting sick but in true Halstead fashion you ignored it. You figured you didn't have a fever so you would be fine, going to school even though you knew better. You got halfway through third period before your friend convinced you to go to the nurse. The nurse had taken one look and said you should go home and take the rest of the week off. You groaned, nodding and accepting defeat. The nurse had let you sign out and go home, you'd lied about your brother coming to get you. They were too busy to drop everything just because you had a little cough. So you forced yourself to walk to the subway, get on your train and go home.

When you got through the door, you didn't make it to your room. You just face-planted into the couch and let your body rest. You didn't even have the energy to shrug off your coat, just curling up on the couch and 'resting' your eyes.

You woke up to a hand on your shoulder, Jay was hovering in front of you with a slight frown.

"Y/N?" He said quietly, gently pressing his hand to your forehead. You groaned, pulling away and pressing back into the cushions to get away from him.

Jay sighed, he knelt in front of you and said, "Your school called, why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well?"

You waved him off, "I didn't want to bother you."

Jay shuckled, "You know that's a bad excuse,"

You laughed, cutting yourself off in a fit of coughs. Jay helped you sit up, rubbing your back as you coughed. As you were sitting up, Jay helped you shrug off the coat that you had fallen asleep in. When the coat was off, you immediately complained about being cold.

"I'll get you a blanket," Jay replied, forcing you to lie back down. He disappeared into your room and returned with your duvet crumpled into his arms. He dramatically shook it out and fluffed it over you, tucking you in like he did when you were a toddler. You rolled your eyes, pouting and pretending to be upset at his coddling. Once Jay was sure you were sufficiently wrapped up, he pulled out his phone and called someone.

You watched him pace, realizing that he was calling in the big guns.

"Nooo," You protested, "Don't call Will."

Jay smirked, "Too late." He immediately relayed the situation to Will, asking what he should do. You sulked on the couch, grumbling about how you weren't sick enough for Will to be involved.

Jay and Will spoke on the phone for a few minutes before Jay hung up and returned to your side.

"Will's going to come over, I have to go back to the district." He looked sorry, you knew he wanted to stay, "After work, I'll pick up some of your favourite noodle soup?"

You smiled, "that sounds good."

Jay nodded, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and told you to take it easy until Will came. He left quietly, letting you curl up on the couch and try sleep. When you were left alone in the silence again, you weren't at all tired. As you were laying, useless, on the couch you realised why you hated being sick so much. Being unable to do anything drove you insane.

You didn't ponder on it long before Will was barging through the door, hollering a greeting.

You groaned, "Speak quieter," you hissed out, covering your face with your duvet to hide from him.

You heard his footsteps getting closer, he peeled back the blanket and smiled softly.

"How you feeling, squirt?"

You let out a dramatic sigh, shaking your head.

Will gave you a pitiful look, and he gestured for you to sit up. You let another big sigh, pretending to be extremely inconvenienced by his order.

"Alright, melodrama, calm down," Will joked, sitting behind you so he could doctor you. As he grabbed his stethoscope from his bag, you couldn't help the big yawn that escaped you. Will chuckled at you as you blinked back the tears your yawn brought up. He pressed his palm to your forehead, tutting about a fever in doctor-y language.

He ordered you to take some deep breaths while he listened to breathing. He apologised about having to press the stethoscope on your back.

"Is cold," You grumbled, unable to avoid the shivers that went up your spine.

"Sorry," Will replied, pulling away and then helping you lie back down. He tucked the duvet back over you like Jay did, taking extra care to press the covers under your chin and smiling at your tired gaze.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, handing over the TV remote so that you could do something while laying uselessly on the couch. He disappeared into the kitchen, rummaging through the drawers and cupboards. He returned to your side with a glass of water and Advil, placing the medication in your hand and hovering until you swallowed them and had a drink of the water.

"Do you want to watch a movie?" Will asked, unsure of what else to do.

You nodded, you sat up and pointed at the couch, making Will sit down so you could rest your head on his lap. Will fluffed a pillow so you would be more comfortable.

"You're so warm," You told your brother, unable to hold back the sleepiness that was now clouding over you.

That was how Jay found the two of you when he got home. You passed out asleep, almost completely hidden by the duvet you held onto, Will gently smoothing your hair like your mother did to him when he was young.

Jay left the soup he picked up on the kitchen counter, walking over to the two of you and greeting Will.

"She feeling any better?"

Will smiled, watching you sniffle in your sleep, "No, she probably has a virus. She'll need to rest for a while but she'll feel better by the end of the week."

Jay nodded, "Do we wake her for food or..?"

Will looked down at you sleeping peacefully, "Yeah, she hasn't eaten anything yet."

Jay disappeared back to the kitchen to grab the food and put it in a bowl. Will gently put his hand on your shoulder, trying to wake you up slowly.

You woke with a fright, staring at Will with wide eyes.

"Sorry," Will muttered, he helped you sit up and then fluffed the blanket around your legs. "How are you feeling?"

You stifle a yawn, "Sick."

Jay laughed as he came over with the soup, "Maybe this would help."

You forced a smile, taking the bowl in your hands. Staring at the food, you realized how you weren't even hungry. You took a few spoonfuls to make your brothers feel better and then put the bowl down.

"Can I go to bed now?"

Jay nodded, "Of course, kiddo."

Will took the bowl and put it in the kitchen while Jay carried your duvet back to your room. You stumbled along behind him, yawning and rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. Will came over when he was done in the kitchen, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders to steady you as you walked. When you got to your room, you climbed under the sheets and Jay and Will dramatically billowed the duvet. It made you smile as you remembered all the times they pretended it was the ocean when you were little.

When they were done billowing the blankets they tucked you in and laughed when you smacked their hands away. Will pressed his hand to your forehead, commenting on how you still had a fever.

You yawned again, "Can you two sit?"

Jay dramatically flopped on the bed, pretending he was settling in for a story.

"I'll get you sick, you big sop," you poked Jays cheek.

Jay shrugged.

You rolled your eyes, "Do you remember when I was little after mom died, you would stay with me until I fell asleep."

"And you would snore like dad?" Will answered.

"I did not."

"You did," Jay laughed, "Real bad."

You crossed your arms dramatically, pouting as your brothers laughed at you. They stopped when you started coughing and struggled to stop.

When you did, you took a deep breath and then yawned yet again.

Will smiled as you got more and more tired, "We'll stay until you fall asleep."

You grinned, "Yay," You gently shook your hands like you were cheering.

Will chuckled, he got up to turn off the lights but left your bedside lamp on. He sat back on the bed, making sure the blankets were covering your feet. As you slowly drifted to sleep you realized just how lucky you were to have two big brothers who cared about you and loved you enough to sit with you while you fell asleep.

#chicago pd imagine #chicago med #cpd #chicago med imagine #chicago med x reader #chicago pd x reader #will halstead x sister!reader #will halstead x reader #will halstead #jay halstead x sister!reader #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #halstead sister #halstead!reader #halstead!sister

[eddiesxangel]

I’m drunk so I’m posting it. It’s been in my drafts for so long and it’s not really proof read

Joes grandfather lives at the retirement home you work at and he’s your favourite resident. He gives you advice and is the grandfather you never had!

One day he’s telling you about his grandson you have yet to meet bc he only visits in weekend and you joke around like “oh he sounds like a catch you should set me up.”

Joe finally comes to visit on one of your shifts. You flirt and are sweet but professional. The next few weeks go by and Joe is visiting more and more during the week on your shifts. More and more flirting happens, bolder comments just because you think he’s so cute!!! He’s Joe Quinn!!! but he’s never seen your face bc of COVID and mask policies are strict still.

It’s a Friday night, it’s been a hard shift, hell it’s been hard week, you and your work friend needed to blow off some steam so you get ready to go out dancing. Not being able to dress up and go out in literal years bc of COVID you go all out on your looks, full hair/makeup sexiest dress you own. This was your night to just drink and dance and have fun and get dolled up bc you don’t wear makeup to work, only full in your brows and a bit of mascara to look not dead.

Dancing the night away you feel someone behind you, you look at your friend to silently ask if he’s cute. Her eyes go wide bc she knows him too, working at the same place. She smirks and walks away leaving the two of you together, curious you turn around and smile up at him. “Hi” you smile, he he smiles back and leans in to kiss you, and you let him. It’s Joe for Christ sake and you’re finally with him not at work so nothing matters anymore. You pull back practically out of breath “fancy seeing you here” you tilt your head. “You wanna get a drink”

You’re in a quieter areas where you can kind of talk “stalking me now?” You giggle playing with the straw of your drink he just bought you. He looks at you confused “I’m sorry do we know one another?” Oh he didn’t know, this could be fun…

“Oh we have met before Joseph 😉” his eyes scanning your face. He’s trying to think how he knows you. Your voice is familiar but it’s loud in the bar. “What’s your name” “I can’t tell you that, it won’t be fun anymore” you flirt “oh come one please tell me” he’s begging. “You won’t give me a hint I feel like a right dickhead” “nope you’ll figure it out.” “Can I at least get your number? Or do I already have that too?” You hold out your hand for his phone and put in your contact information under “mystery girl” you give him back his phone and he smirks rolling his eye “ you really wont tell me?” He leaned into you locking you into the bar staring into your eyes “you’re so familiar I just can’t place it” you giggle from the alcohol “you’re smart, you’ll figure it out, sometimes when you’re not in the setting you don’t recognize people” you can see the wheels in head turning but he just cannot figure it out

The rest of the night was amazing, you found your friend and introduced one another, he also recognized he but still couldn’t place her. She almost gave it away but you quickly told her about the game you were playing. After he asked you to come out with him for a lot night bite to eat, a little more kissing may or may night have happened and you were on cloud nine!

You and Joe have been texting non stop since you bumped into him at the bar. The next time he came to visit grandad you were so excited because maybe he’s figured it out?

More flirting happens but you give nothing away. You’re favourite twisted sitting beside you oblivious to what’s happening. You let them enjoy their vist but cannot help but overhear Joe talking to his granddad

“I’ve met someone grandad” “oh Joey good tell me about her what’s her name” “that’s the thing she won’t tell me!” You can’t help but giggle to yourself

Before Joe leave he stops at your desk to say goodbye

“Hi Joseph, how can I help you” “you’re a girl” “thanks, I didn’t know” “I mean I need some advice” “oh girl advice?” You raise your brows at him “ I’m talking to someone but she won’t tell me her name and it’s killing me, what do I do?” “she won’t tell you her name?” You say playing dumb. He shakes his head, “she says i know her but I can’t for the life of me figure out from where.” He signs in defeat. You almost give in right then but it’s been so fun this past week teasing him you need to keep it up just a bit longer. “Sounds like she’s fun, wants to keep you interested” “oh she’s keeping my interested alright” he laughs. You look at him, you’d be disappointed if it wasn’t you he was talking to, the flirting going on wasn’t just one sided. He started it. “Tell me about her?” You reach out to touch his hand that’s resting on your desk as You ask tilting your head “she’s get the most beautiful eyes” he says and he looks from your hands touching to yours. The nail polish… he recognized it, he commented on it at the bar bc he hadn’t seen that shade before. You’re smiling from under your mask you can’t hold it back anymore he’s broken you bc he’s the cutest and he makes your brain melt.

His eye svo wide with realization “Oh you are good”

#joseph quinn #eddie munson #joe quinn #eddie munson fic #joseph quinn blurb #joseph quinn rpf #soft boy #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn stranger things #joseph quinn fanfic #stranger things #joseph quinn fic #tj talks #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson blurb

[hollywoodxwhore]

Ours - Epilogue

Synopsis: Presley and Colson fell in love accidentally, but they were meant to be. Now that all the obstacles have been removed, they're moving in together in LA. Now, they have all the time in the world for Colson to teach Presley all of the things he knows. This fic is the sequel to Mine, which can be found in my masterlist!

Warnings/Content: mentions of mental illness (PTSD, anxiety), mentions of therapy, short & sweet with fluff

I can't believe I'm wrapping up the second part of this story. It's wild to me how much y'all loved this and even more wild that I've decided to write a third part! You might be able to guess the title after reading the epilogue. Thank you all so very much for your support!

Colson

Three Months Later 

Presley received a diagnosis of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. PTSD.

I should’ve seen it coming. All the signs were there. At least now we have a name for what’s happening, as well as a treatment plan. 

Couples therapy once a week. Individual cognitive behavior therapy twice a week. Medication for panic attacks as needed as well as a daily anxiety pill. I find myself feeling very thankful for our financial situation. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to get help for people who don’t make much money. That’s why there's such a mental health crisis in our country. As mad as it makes me, I’m relieved that I can provide support for my wife.

At our first couples therapy session, we both cried. A lot. Presley admitted that she blames herself for the choice I almost made. She can’t let go of the fact that if Cash hadn’t shown up, I would’ve gone through with it. The therapist told her that if we always live in a world of what-ifs, then we can never live in the present. It’s something we’ve been working on ever since.

We’re closer than ever after what happened. We’re so good at talking things out and taking care of each other. We’re at the point where I can leave the house without Pres if I need to as long as I give her a heads up. It’s not like she’s “healed” yet. Healing is a long process but I’m confident we can get there.

The boys and I are going on tour finally. We delayed it because of everything that happened, but when we finally put tickets on sale, everything sold out fast. Somehow, the whole Megan situation brought us more fans. I’m not complaining. We’ve even added a couple of dates at bigger places and those are almost sold out, too. It’s crazy and surreal and I’m so proud of us.

Presley is going to come on tour with us, and this time, she’ll be around for the whole tour. I loved touring with Pres. I loved coming backstage to find her there, to catch her in my arms. It means so much to look out and see her smiling back at me, singing all my songs. It fills my heart with so much love that I don’t even know what to do with it. 

We leave tomorrow. I’ve been packing all day and Presley is due home any time. She went out for lunch with Olivia. Once a week, she’s encouraged to leave the house without me. She’s been following the plan religiously and doing such a good job, but I do miss her. I can’t wait to see her, to hold her. I can’t wait to have her on tour with me. 

Just as I zip up my suitcase, I hear the front door open and I smile, eager to see my girl. I rush out of my room and jog down the stairs, but I stop in my tracks when I see my wife. Something is off. 

She stands stiffly in the doorway holding an envelope with something inside of it. My brow furrows as I glance at the envelope and then up at her face. She looks worried but also…happy? Her eyes are especially bright today. 

“Pres?” I question, walking closer. I place my hands on her waist. 

“Hey, babe,” she says quietly. Her voice shakes a little.

I frown at her. “What’s wrong?”

“I…um…” She bites her lip and then hands me the envelope. “Just open it.”

Confused, I take a step back from her so I have room to reach into the envelope. My brow furrows when I pull out…a Covid test? “Shit, baby,” I say, stomach dropping. “You have Covid?”

She shakes her head, face screwing up in confusion. “What? What are you talking about?” 

“This is a positive Covid te–” I stop in my tracks when I realize what a fucking dumbass I am. I look at the test again, my eyes going so huge it must look comical. This is not a Covid test. No, it’s got a pink cap and a screen with a plus sign. I lift my eyes to Presley, my own dangerously close to shedding tears. “Presley…” I breathe.

Presley lets out a little laugh as her own eyes fill with tears. “Yeah.”

“Is this…this is real?” I ask, bouncing on my toes. “Are you sure?”

Presley giggles and the tears finally spill down her cheeks. “This is one of three tests I took. All positive,” she says. She takes it from my hand and sets it on a little table by our front door. Then, her jade eyes find mine again. “Colson,” she says, then takes a deep breath. “I’m pregnant.”

Time stands still. My heart suddenly feels too big for my chest, like it’s going to explode out of me. My palms tingle and elation builds in my stomach. “R-really?” I ask quietly. 

Presley nods, lip quivering, but she smiles. “We’re having a baby, Colson. You’re going to be a dad.”

It’s those words that finally break me out of my trance. I lunge forward and heave my girl into my arms. She shrieks as I lift her up, her legs surrounding my waist. I laugh and kiss her hard, rocking her in my arms. My tears spill out, too. A baby. I’m going to be a dad. We’re going to be parents.

“I know we’re going on tour and it’s not the best time,” she says breathlessly against my lips.

I shake my head. “It’s the perfect time,” I say, because I don’t care what’s happening in our lives. We’re having a baby. I laugh again and kiss her lips, holding the back of her head while my other arm holds her up. 

“So you’re happy?” she asks.

“God, Pres,” I laugh. “I’m fucking ecstatic. This is the best day of my life!”

Presley laughs tearfully and nods. “Mine, too.”

“I love you,” I say, kissing her again. “So much.” When I pull back from the kiss, I glance down between us. I set Presley on her feet and sink to my knees. My hands go to her belly, still flat and toned, but soon enough, it’ll be perfectly round, carrying our child. I smile to myself and press a kiss to her belly. Presley runs her hands through my hair and looks at me lovingly.

I take a shaky breath and look at her stomach. “Little bean,” I say softly, “this world is yours.”

Taglist: @triplexdoublex@jaxbreaker@mgklove99xx@jinx-on-mars-19xx@iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker@anonymousme86@whiteleoqueen@feroniakutenpuu@hxllywoodwhxree

#mgk #mgk fanfic #mgk fan fiction #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly fanfic #machine gun kelly fan fiction #machine gun kelly fluff #colson baker #colson baker fanfic #colson baker fan fiction #colson baker fluff

[orthopoogle]

I still hate how irresponsible some people in online pro-life fertility/pregnancy spaces are about giving others advice. Like, I’ve seen women on here say things like, “If you have a miscarriage, then you need to get every piece of testing from doctors you can find, because a miscarriage means there’s something wrong with your body!”

I feel like pro-lifers focus so much on miscarriage being a tragedy (which it is!) that we don’t want to acknowledge that, in the vast majority of cases, a miscarriage is just your body’s way of ending a pregnancy that was never viable in the first place.

When I discovered my baby had passed away at the 8-week ultrasound, my brain jumped to all sorts of conclusions about how my fertility was out of whack, how maybe getting COVID a few months before screwed up my reproductive system, how I probably had some rare blood-clotting disorder that totally caused the miscarriage to happen. It took many months and a lot of research to recognize that, in the case of a missed miscarriage like mine, usually the most valid answer is simply that the baby wasn’t viable and stopped growing. It had nothing to do with my body not working right or my egg quality being bad, and learning that up to 30% of pregnancies end in miscarriage (up to 70% of conceptions could potentially even end in loss if you account for early chemical pregnancies) made me realize that this can happen to even the healthiest of women. Sometimes you just release one bad egg out of several good ones, or your husband releases one bad sperm out of several good ones, or they just don’t mix right during conception, or your uterus needs to do a “test run” with a weak embryo to prepare for a healthy pregnancy in the future. It happens.

I do think affordable testing on the baby after first and second miscarriages should be more commonplace, even if only to give the mother some peace of mind about what happened and why it happened or, as a pure precaution, catch rare but potential issues early on before recurrent pregnancy loss occurs. But telling women who’ve had a miscarriage that we need to panic and immediately Assume The Worst about our bodies is just…not helpful, and more often than not, it’s unfounded, too. The vast majority of women who have a miscarriage statistically go on to experience healthy pregnancies. Miscarriages are sad, but they happen all the time! They’re an unfortunate and natural part of reproduction! Pregnancy loss is rough enough on a woman without some clueless people on the Internet screaming at her that this happened because her body failed and will have trouble carrying a healthy pregnancy to term in the future.

#miscarriage tw #pregnancy loss tw

[meetinginsamarra]

Fanfics I really liked in February 2023

So. Since I keep a list of what I´ve read anyway (there´s always a list), I will rec all the fics I´ve wholly enjoyed on a monthly basis. Old and new, canon or AU, big or small authors, long or short but nearly always Johnlock(-ish).  

“The Art of Putting Up Shelves” by Amyreadsandstresses @amyreadsandstresses

https://archiveofourown.org/works/37340701

It’s a Sherlock/OMC. John remains angry after the return and withdraws more and more so Sherlock gets drawn to Adrien who is a really nice guy and good for Sherlock. Hurt/Comfort.

“The Waning of Withdrawal” by LoloLolly​

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43413474

What would happen if the hug scene went differently and Sherlock would start to say something? 

“In His Care” by BeautifulFiction @the-pen-pot​

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24682129

John catches Covid and Sherlock tends to him. This leads to unexpected but very welcome confessions.

“Mistletoe and Misdemeanours” by Robottko

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2700083

Sherlock is in need of a boyfriend he present to his parents at Christmas. So he does the next best thing and kidnaps one John Watson. LOL. Enemies to Lovers and loads of fun in between.

“34 Minutes” by bendingsignpost

https://archiveofourown.org/works/334589

Sherlock needs John for a psychological experiment in eye contact. The result after 34 minutes might be surprising but is very satisfying.

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Special Feature: The author Chryse

I guess those of you who read a lot of fanfics have definitely come across Chryse who’s a big name in the fandom and (at least imo) one of the best writers out there. Loads of Hurt and Angst but Comfort and happy endings after all.

https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chryse/works

A River without Banks is the time-travel fic of all time-travel fics, brilliant and unsettling. Another Country and The Wench is Dead tell the tale of Sherlock’s confinement in 221b after he shot Magnussen. The Ground Beneath Your Feet deals with Sherlock’s PTSD after the Fall. The Frost Is All Over is a wonderful Victorian-ish teenage lovestory and quest to find Sherlock’s relatives of a truly Dickensian scope. Last Call at the Homesick Club features lonely busker Sherlock on his time away.

You ask why I don’t mention her other fics? Simply because I have not yet read them.

#my fanfic recs #fanfics I really liked in February 2023