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#it could have been either because he was flu sick
somber-sapphic · 3 months
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Cooking With A Cold
〖500 Follower Prompt: “Oh sweetheart, you’re worse than I thought” + “Sorry, I can’t stop sneezing” + 🏥〗
〖Summary: You hurt yourself while trying to cook a romantic meal for your girlfriend.〗
〖Word Count: 1.5k〗
〖Pairing: Natasha x Sick Reader〗
〖A/N: Hello! So, some of you may know there was a bit of a "situation" last week which threw me off a bit and I decide to postpone posting this. I know, it's been months, but I really needed to recompose and regroup which changed my plan. Sorry, I know this is a bit long but I hope you enjoy!〗
☾Masterlists☽ ☾500 Masterlist☽
Natasha had just gotten home from a long mission and when she had come into the kitchen you’d screeched at her to get out, not wanting to ruin the surprise. She’d left laughing and was currently sitting on the couch in preparation for what she didn't expect to be an incredibly fancy dinner. She knew that you hated to cook and assumed you’d just thrown a few frozen things in the oven and mac and cheese or something on the stove. 
Instead, you had taken it upon yourself to make her favorite dinner and a dessert to go with. Over the two weeks that she had been gone, you’d been watching cooking videos and practicing in your spare time. There was a lot of spare time. You had decided to make her a medium-rare steak with baked asparagus and sauteed mushrooms. Following that there was a cheesecake in the fridge that had come out much better than you’d expected.
When planning this fancy meal that you very much didn't know how to cook, you had been so excited. You were thrilled to get to spend real time with your girlfriend and you wanted her to tell you everything about the ocean and beach and blue skies. It hadn't been a particularly dangerous mission, and you were sure that she’d be happy to tell you all of the more fun details. 
So of course, your body had decided to throw something at you. Maybe it was the long nights spent awake wishing you weren't alone in your bed, maybe it was the fact that one of the Avengers (Clint) seemed intent on spending time with you even though he was clearly sick (it was probably the second one), but the cause didn't matter because you were sick. Sick sick. 
You didn't have a little sniffle that you could push through with a dose of cold medicine and a few tissues, you had a full-on everything hurts, whole body feels hot and cold, stuffy and runny nose, dizziness, chest cough that won't let up kind of cold. Or maybe the flu. You weren't sure, but that didn't particularly matter to you either. For now, all that mattered was you staying upright for long enough to finish this meal. 
Between breaks of sitting on the floor and about one million tissues, you’d managed to get down to the last stretches. The steak was done, and ready to be cut. The mushrooms were sitting on the stove covered by a pot lid to keep them warm. All that was left was the asparagus sitting in the oven and the timer for those had just gone off. 
You pulled yourself to your feet and stumbled slightly, the world shifting quickly around you as your center of gravity changed. It was all you could do not to grab the hot stovetop and stumble into the counter instead, hoping that you hadn't made too much noise. You may have felt awful, but you didn't need Natasha to know that. 
With your brain on autopilot, you stuck your hands into the oven and grabbed the metal pan with a bare hand. You were so out of it and ready to be finished cooking dinner that you hadn't realized you had forgotten the oven mitt until you felt white-hot pain shoot through your hand. 
You pulled back with a strangled gasp, catching the back of your hand on one of the oven racks as you did. Tears of pain clouded your vision momentarily and you clutched your hand to your chest, unsure what to do. The gasp led to a fit of coughing that left you doubled over and panicking. If you just kept standing there your dinner would burn, but you were pretty sure that your hand was useless. And the room was still spinning.
Now you’d have to get Natasha and she would be upset because not only had you ruined dinner, but she’d also need to take care of you. You stood there frozen, and to your utter horror, you began to cry. The frustration of it all was too much. All you’d wanted to do was make a nice hot dinner for your incredibly busy girlfriend and now you needed her help. 
“Hey Nat?” You called out in a watery voice, congestion seeping into your worlds. You sniffled and brought your tightly clenched hand up to wipe your nose on your sleeve, doing your best not to disturb the burn. A tiny part of your brain was telling you that you should probably be running it under cool water or at least stick it in the fridge, but it hadn't quite caught up to the part that was shutting down the pain. 
Natasha, bounced into the room, her smile lighting up her eyes falling as she saw the twisted expression on your face and the protective way you were holding your hand. You could feel your lower lip quivering and your nose might have been running again but you weren't sure, you were just humiliated. To be safe, you swiped your hand against your fist and sniffled. 
“Oh dorogory, what happened?” She asked, rushing over to wrap her arms around you. You laid your head against her shoulder and let out a whimper, wishing that you didn't have to admit to your failure out loud. This was all so humiliating. 
She pulled back for a moment and cupped your cheek, lips pursed, and eyebrows furrowed. She glanced back at the half-open oven, then at your hand, then back into your eyes and you watched her face go from pure terror for your safety to understanding concern. 
“Show me please?” Nat murmured, not wanting to force your hand open and risk hurting you more. You started to nod, but quickly wrenched away to sneeze into your elbow. One sneeze turned into four which turned into a bout of raspy coughing which made you glad you’d managed to turn in time. You didn't want to get her sick too. 
You extended your hand at the end of the fit, revealing the blistering burn across your palm. 
“Oh, Y/n, I could tell you were sick, but sweetheart, you’re worse than I thought!” She exclaimed, studying your burn intensely as she flicked her eyes up to your mess of a face. You wrinkled your nose and sniffled again, blinking rapidly at her. Black dots had appeared in the corners of your vision in these last few seconds, and you were beginning to wonder how much longer you’d be able to stand up. 
“Shit, okay. Let's get you sitting.” You didn't have to say a word, Natasha was right there wrapping her arm around your waist and leading you to the living room. She even managed to turn the oven off as she practically carried you out and set you down on the sofa. 
You leaned against the arm of the couch and rested your head on the cushion, another low rumbling cough echoing through your chest. It hurt to breathe, and you could hear a slight wheeze that might be more audible to those with less clogged ears. 
“Okay. This hand really doesn't look great baby and I don't like the sound of your breathing. You’re going to hate this, but there’s an Urgent Care a few minutes away and I think we need to go. They might be able to get you something for the pain and something to open up those lungs, okay?” She didn't bother to sugarcoat (much) and her tone made it clear that she wasn't asking. Whether you wanted to or not, you had earned yourself a trip to Urgent Care. 
Instead of answering you sneezed again, barely able to direct the sneezes to your lap rather than in her direction. You knew it was gross, but you couldn't seem to make your limbs cooperate the way you wanted them to. Lifting a pinky felt like lifting a thousand tons. 
“M’sorry. I can’t stop sneezing.” You mumbled, hoping those words were enough to convey just how sorry you were, not just for the sneezing but for everything. Natasha kissed the top of your head and pressed a tissue to your nose, guiding your uninjured hand to hold it there. 
“No apologies my love, just sit tight. I’ll get your shoes and your favorite blanket then we’ll head out, okay?” She soothed, running your fingers through your hair as she talked.
Her voice was the sound of summer rain on a warm night, slow rolling waves on a white sand beach, and birds chirping in a lush green forest. It was every comforting thing anyone could think of plus ten more. She was all that. She never failed to make you feel safe, loved, accepted, and, most importantly, worthy of feeling all of those good things. 
You nodded wearily and let yourself melt against the couch as she moved around you, turning off lights and gathering whatever she thought that you would need. You were dreading whatever might happen at Urgent Care, but if she was there you knew that it would be okay. She’d make sure that it was all okay. And when you felt better, you’d make her that damn dinner. 
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Movie Night | Part 2
Part 1
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: Eddie takes you up on your offer and loses his virginity
Word Count: 2.9K - Much shorter than part 1 but we have no build here, diving straight into the smut 🔥
Content Warnings: 18+ Only, Smut, Oral Sex (F receiving), fingering, PIV (Protected), virgin!eddie
Author's note: Here is the heavily requested part 2! I am hoping it lives up to expectations but I have been in bed sick all weekend, at first I thought it was the flu but it's turned out to be tonsilitis and I feel horrendous 😭 I carried on adding to this in between naps but I haven't been in a very smutty headspace, maybe I should have waited until I felt better before posting it but I am too excited to share it, it's also only been proofread once so I apologise in advance 😂 Enough of me rambling, I hope you enjoy it anyway 💕 (I'm sorry if you asked to be tagged and haven't been, it will likely either be because your blog doesn't state you are over 18 or you just weren't showing up when I tried to tag you!) Thank you so much to everyone that commented/reblogged part 1 with comments, it was your love and encouragement that made me so eager to give you part 2 💕
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It took Eddie all of five minutes to get hard again. Even if he wasn’t trying it would have been difficult not to when he was completely losing himself in you. He lay on top of you between your open legs as you engaged in a series of heated and needy kisses. Lips desperate to touch every inch of skin they could reach. Your hips ground into each other in sync, both of you craving the feeling of him finally being inside of you more and more with each passing minute. 
“Eddie,” you whined breathlessly. “Condom.”
“Uh yeah, yeah,” he muttered between kisses, his shaky breaths fanning hot across your face. 
He blindly reached for the handle of the drawer of his bedside table, not willing to pull his lips from yours. When he felt the knob he gripped it and yanked it open with so much enthusiasm the entire drawer dislodged from the dresser and went clattering to his floor. After a second of initial shock you erupted into a burst of laughter as you watched Eddie’s eyes grow wide, obviously surprised by his own strength. 
“Jeez Eds,” you poked at his ribs gently, still giggling. “That eager?” 
“What do you think?” He teased back, rolling his hips hard into yours so his naked cock glided along your glistening folds. 
You gasped in shock at the confident move, while you thought the nervous, fumbling Eddie was the cutest fucking thing in the whole entire world, assertiveness suited him more. You would take anything he was willing to give you but you really hoped he wouldn’t see this as a one time thing, you’d love to experience what he’d be like in bed after you’d helped melt away all of his self doubt. He reluctantly pulled away from you and leaned over to rummage on the ground for the box of condoms. He returned to you with a triumphant look when he finally found them under the mess of socks and boxers he kept in that drawer. 
“So when did you get these?” You asked out of curiosity. 
“I didn’t, Wayne got them for me years ago when he tried to give ‘the talk’” Eddie laughed at the memory, while he found the situation amusing it was probably the most uncomfortable Wayne had ever been in his entire life. “Said as much as he loves me he wasn’t raising another kid that ain’t his.” 
“Are they still in date?” You checked, you might just cry with frustration if you’d gotten to this point and you couldn’t have sex with him. 
“Condoms expire?” Eddie’s face dropped so quickly it was almost comical. 
“Yes,” you exhaled, trying to hide your slight impatience as he scanned the box for the expiration date. 
You stared at his disheartened expression, his brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. You didn’t even realise you’d been holding your breath until you saw the excitement rush back onto his face. 
“We’re good to go,” he grinned. 
You bit your lip as you watched him tear open the box. His fingers trembled slightly as he fumbled with the little foil packaging, it made your heart melt. He ripped one open with his teeth and rolled the condom down his length, giving himself a few strokes for good measure. A deep ache settled between your legs as you watched him shudder under his own touch, still sensitive from his previous orgasm. 
You reached out to him, tugging on his arm until he fell forward onto you. You squealed and laughed beneath him as he crushed you with his weight, his hand gripping your chin as he attacked your face with tiny kisses. You pushed at his ribs gently until you had flipped him onto his back. Straddling him you captured his lips, he immediately deepened the kiss, tongue tangling with yours. You rolled your hips in a steady rhythm, your wetness gliding along his cock. He grunted softly into your mouth and you were overcome with the carnal need to have him inside of you. 
“Eddie,” you panted against his lips. “I need you, I need you.” 
“Fuck, okay” he muttered more to himself in preparation than you. 
“Ready?” You whispered breathlessly as you took hold of him and lined him up with your entrance. 
He nodded his head eagerly and you sank down onto him, just the tip at first but Eddie’s jaw still dropped. He watched himself disappear slowly inch by inch until he bottomed out, he threw his head back into the pillow and whined at the feeling of being engulfed by your warm, wet heat. Eddie was bigger than you were used to but the stretch was divine, you braced your hands on his chest and stayed still for a moment while you let your body adjust to him. 
“You okay?” You asked shakily, you reached a hand up to stroke the side of his face where his head was still thrown back. 
“Mmmhmmm,” he hummed tipping his head forward into your touch, it sounded strangled as he fought to gain some self control. 
You rocked your hips experimentally, both of you gasping at the sensation, he felt so so deep. You linked your hands with his, fingers intertwined and set a steady pace. Eddie was struggling, he thought he would do better this time since he had cum no more than 15 minutes ago but this position was proving to be too much for him. You looked like a fucking goddess above him as you rode his dick, your tits bouncing in his face with each movement of your hips, tiny soft moans catching in your throat each time he brushed against your g-spot. He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to not blow his load so fast but he was fast approaching the edge, the blow job you had given him was amazing but your pussy was like nothing else he had ever felt in his life. He felt the familiar heat beginning to build and his hands suddenly flew to your hips, his fingers gripping like a vice to still your movements. 
“Stop, stop, stop,” he whimpered, his eyes now wide with desperation. 
“What’s wrong? What happened?” You panicked as you stopped bouncing your hips, worried that you had done something to hurt him. 
“Can we swap?” He pleaded. “Wanna set my own pace or I’m gonna cum.” 
You were about to tell him that was okay but you knew he wouldn’t accept it after the way he reacted to your blow job. This was all about him and you wanted to give him whatever he needed. So instead you nodded, leaning over to place a kiss against his swollen lips as he slipped out of you. 
You took his place on the mattress while he settled between your open legs. You cried out in surprise when he scooted back and you felt his lips attach themselves to your clit again, his fingers sinking inside you in the way that you had shown him you liked. He wanted you to cum again before he did and he wasn’t confident he’d get you there using his cock before he exploded. 
“Fuuuuuuuck,” you sighed as you raked your fingers through his chestnut curls. 
His fingers didn’t fill you quite as satisfyingly as his cock had been doing but he was stroking you wonderfully in all the right places. You really were impressed by how quickly he’d perfected it. 
“Eddie, ohhhhh Eddie,” you arched your hips into his face and he moaned into you, the vibrations making you squirm in his hold, you were getting close. 
“I can feel you,” he choked, his lips temporarily leaving your clit as he picked up the pace of his fingers. “Can feel you squeezing my fingers so tight.” 
The thickness of his digits dragging in and out of you had your thighs trembling around his head, you looked down at him to find his hooded gaze already staring up at you. He smiled when your eyes locked, his lips and chin slick with your arousal. 
“C’mon baby,” he whispered before he lowered back down to lick back over your clit, his wrist twisting as he doubled his efforts with his fingers. 
“Ohhhhh my god,” you clenched down on him as you felt the coil tightening in your belly, you couldn’t take it any longer. 
Your back arched as you saw stars, pushing his fingers even deeper into you. You tugged his hair harshly as you fell apart, your body curled in on itself as your legs clamped down around his head. Eddie kept moaning through your orgasm, his fingers slowing their pace a tiny bit at a time until you were whimpering and patting at the now tangled curls you had caused. 
He chuckled into your skin as he pulled away to press kisses against your thighs, your hipbone, your tummy. Eventually making his way up to your lips, you tasted yourself for the second time that night as he licked into your mouth. 
“You make the cutest little noises when you cum for me,” he sighed between kisses. “I can’t get enough of you.” 
His words gave you violent butterflies and you grinned against his lips. He kneaded the doughy flesh of your still shaking thighs in his hands before he bent your knees to wrap your legs around his waist. He gripped his painfully hard cock and dragged the tip up and down your soaked folds, you shivered every time he nudged your sensitive clit. 
“Do you need a minute?” He asked, his impatience showing through the waver in his voice. 
“No,” you shook your head. “Fuck me please.” 
He kissed you again soft and sweet as he effortlessly filled you up. Both of your eyes grew wide, mouths dropped open in a silent “oh” as he was buried to the hilt. His tremoring breath fanned out across your face as he gave an experimental thrust of his hips. He fell forward onto his forearms, one resting by the side of your head where his fingers combed through your hair, the other had his bedsheets tightly gripped in his fists. 
“Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” Eddie mumbled against your temple, his hips finding a steady pace as he thrusted into your heat. 
He pressed more tender kisses to your forehead, your nose and cheeks, the corners of your mouth, the occasional whimper slipping from his lips as he rapidly started to increase his speed. 
“Fuck, hmmmm,” he breathed so quietly. “Ohhhh fu-“ 
His face was fucking angelic, a light blush scattered across his cheeks, pupils blown before he squeezed his glassy eyes shut, jaw hanging slack. He was so beautiful. 
‘How could no one else want him like this?’ You thought. ‘I’m so fucking lucky.’ 
You could tell he was close from the way his hips started to falter, his face was now buried in your neck as he rutted desperately into your pussy. His lips skimmed across your neck and down across your skin before he suddenly sank his teeth into your shoulder. 
“Did you just bite me?” You gasped at the sudden sting. 
“Sorry,” he panted, a hint of guilt in his voice. “Got a little carried away.” 
“No, no, I liked it,” you assured him. “Mark me.” 
Eddie grunted into your flesh as he bit down on you once more, your request making his cock twitch inside your walls. 
“You want me to mark you?” He panted. “Show everyone your mine?” 
“I’m yours,” you whined, you wound your arms around him to rake your nails down his back, delighted when you felt him shudder under your touch. “I’m yours.” 
“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he grunted, his hips fucked into you at a near brutal pace, you grabbed his ass in both your palms in an attempt to pull him even closer to you. 
For the first time in your life you wished you were on the pill, you were aching to feel his hot seed spilling into you, you wanted every part of him. 
“Eddie, baby,” you cooed next to his ear. “Gotta feel you, ohhh-“
“M’gonna cu- uhhh,” Eddie’s entire body went rigid against yours as he lost control and came undone in your arms, his face tucked tightly into the crook of your neck as you pressed kisses against the crown of his head. “Oh fuck, baby, baby, baby.” 
Your nose nudged softly at the side of his face as your fingers drew invisible shapes across the expanse of his back. Minutes passed before either of had the energy to move. He slipped himself out of you with a wince before lifting his face from its place in your neck and rested his chin on your chest. His hooded eyes gazed up at you, a lazy grin spread across his blissful features. 
“Hi,” he breathed, his head spinning from the happiness coursing through his veins. 
“Hey,” you giggled, booping him on the nose with your pinky finger. 
He scrunched his face and leaned up to kiss you on your lips. This one was different, hot and desperate had turned to loving and tender. 
“Wow,” you sighed as he touched his forehead to yours. 
“Wow,” he agreed, unable to keep the smile off his face. 
He promised he’d be right back as he excused himself. He disposed of the condom and ran to the kitchen to get you a glass of water. He pulled on a fresh pair of boxer shorts and pulled out one of his oversized band t-shirts for you to wear with your panties. He pulled back his duvet and climbed into bed, his arm wide open for you to snuggle into his side. He pulled you so close to him, his hand cupping your chin as he brushed his thumb softly across your cheekbone. If anyone could see you now they’d probably throw up from how sickeningly in love you both looked. 
“I’m so glad it was you,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips to your forehead, his voice so quiet you could have missed it. 
“I’m glad it was me too,” your heart soared as you beamed up at him, you didn’t regret any of your past relationships but a small part of you wished he had been it for you too. 
“Did you mean it? When you said you were mine?” He asked, anxious that it might have been said in the heat of the moment. 
“I’ve always been yours,” you confessed. 
“Fuck, you mean we coulda been doing that for years?” 
“Oh don’t worry,” you smirked. “We’re definitely gonna make up for lost time.” 
“If I knew you finding my crappy porno collection would lead to this I’d have left it out in plain sight a long time ago.” 
You laughed and hid your face in his chest. “Well maybe I’ll forget to call at Family Video more often too.”
“Aha!” He wrapped his arms fully around you so you couldn’t move and crushed you to him. “So you admit it was your fault.” 
“I didn’t say that!” You argued back trying to wriggle free of his vice-like grip but it was no use, he was holding you too tight. 
“Too late, you said it,” he laughed, pinching your sides and kissing the top of your head. 
You accepted defeat and laughed and made out until you settled into a comfortable silence, the soft rise and fall of his chest and his steady heartbeat lulling you to sleep. 
The first thing Wayne did when he got home from work in the early hours of the morning was kick back in his armchair with a steaming cup of coffee and turn on the news. He shrugged off his overalls and made his coffee while he tidied the kitchen, pizza from last night still leftover on the counter. He knew Eddie had friends over for movie night on Fridays but he usually did a better job of tidying up after himself. It wasn’t a big deal, the trailer wasn’t much more messy than it usually was. He placed his mug down on his favourite coaster and picked up the remote from where it was flung on the coffee table. 
You had started to stir when you heard movement in the kitchen, Eddie’s bedroom door still slightly cracked open from the night before. You groaned at the sunlight streaming through the cracks in his blinds, you hadn’t meant to stay the whole night but you’d done a pretty good job at tiring each other out. 
“Eddie,” you whispered, shaking his shoulder in an attempt to rouse him where he snored softly next to you. “Eddie, I think Wayne’s home.” 
Eddie’s eyes fluttered open sleepily and you couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he looked, you brushed back the stray locks that had fallen in his face while he slept. 
“Morning sweetheart,” he whispered too, pulling you closer to his chest again. 
You shared a couple of sweet lazy kisses before you were harshly torn from your bubble by the sounds of obnoxious moans coming from the living room. 
“What the fuck?” You heard Wayne cry out as you both scrambled into a sitting position. 
“We forgot the fucking tape!” 
2K notes · View notes
spamgyu · 2 months
Note
If Mingyu’s get Oc’s flu? Will she take care of him? 👀
At this point, homegirl can admit her feelings xD
admit her feelings?? this is a slow burn babes. im going to make everyone suffer /laughs in evil/
JK.... but uh............. alright here's cute oc x mingyu crumbs
COLLEGE!Mingyu drabble – flus (again) and piggies
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no bc college!mingyu as someone who lives down the hall from your dorm and you always run into him doing something questionable
[College!Mingyu Masterlist]
It's been days since she last seen him.
Not that she missed him. Definitely not that. No.
Never.
But she did have to admit that the absence of his presence, more importantly his pestering voice... was very evident.
At first, when she had first showed up back at their dorm building after spending nearly a week recovering from the nasty flu she had gotten from her roommate, she didn't pay any mind that Mingyu didn't seem to be lingering by her room.
He usually came by when she went away for a few days, ready to yap her ear off about all the things he had managed to get into whilst she was gone.
Maybe he was busy at the time.
But one day turned into three and there was still no sight of him. Not in the hallways, not in the library – hell, not even on campus.
And it wasn't like he was easy to miss – he towered over all his friends... and almost anyone around him. She can pick him out from a crowd within milliseconds.
Because he's tall.
Not because her eyes are searching for him. Definitely not that either.
Walking down to the end of the hall, Y/n lightly knocked on the wooden door.
"Come in."
Popping her head in, Y/n was ready to crack a joke about her life being much quieter since he hasn't been around; but instead the smile on her face fell.
He wasn't his typical chirpy self.
She was fully expecting him to greet her loudly the second he caught sight of her. Instead, he was under his covers – eyes sunken in, nose red from all the tissues he had use to get rid of his congestion.
"Oh my god, did I get you sick?" She gasped, walking over to his bedside – placing her hand on his forehead. Y/n instantly frowned, feeling the contrast of his body temperature to hers.
Mingyu slowly nodded, reaching into the half empty tissue box on his nightstand to blow his nose.
"I'm so sorry, dude."
"S'all good." He coughed into his elbow.
"I was beginning to think you were avoiding me."
Mingyu cracked a smile. "You missed me, huh?"
"Eh, a little." She shrugged.
The smile on his lips grew larger. "You missed me!?"
"Let's not get too crazy now." Y/n laughed softly, motioning for him to move his legs – taking a seat in the now available space at the foot of his bed. "Didn't realize how quiet my life was when you're not around. The silence was almost deafening."
"Aw."
"That wasn't supposed to be cute."
"I'll take it.'' He smiled.
"You craving anything?" She asked, scrolling through her phone.
"Health."
"I meant food," Y/n flashed him her screen that was opened up to the food delivery app. "Least I could do is get you dinner."
"Are you trying to woo me, Y/n?" He teased.
Typically, she would be rolling her eyes at him. But somehow, the action never came – simply letting out another laugh instead.
He was definitely growing on her.
"I'm trying to make up for getting you sick."
"Make it up by hanging out with me this weekend."
The two had yet to actually do anything outside of their school campuses – mostly because they were far too busy with their own friend groups, studies, and lives. Mingyu had made a handful of attempts to make plans with her, but all were sadly declined due to prior commitments and plans.
He found the perfect opportunity.
"You're literally a walking virus right now."
"Okay, next weekend."
"Maybe."
"I'll pay." He added.
"Are you trying to woo me, Mingyu?" Y/n narrowed her eyes, asking playfully.
"Are you being woo'd?" Mingyu matched her tone.
"Maybe."
Maybe?
Maybe?!?!
Mingyu had gotten accustomed to her no's and waving off all and any attempts of flirting, he couldn't help but be taken back by the sudden change of answer – blinking quickly as he tried to process the word that had left her lips.
"Maybe?"
"Do you not want me to be?" She asked slowly.
"No I do, just– you never played along before."
Y/n shrugged. "You're sick, I'll give in this one time."
"Will you also give in to possibly spending the rest of your day keeping me company?"
He was pushing his luck, but considering she was being far more pleasant than her usual playful catty attitude – he was going to push all the luck he could find.
"Only if you let me order you food."
Mingyu handed her one of the pillows next to him. "Make yourself comfortable."
Kicking off her Uggs, Y/n happily extended her leg out in front of her as she went back to ordering the promised meal – not bothering to scold Mingyu as he began playing with the loose threads at the hem of her sweatpants.
"I got you Pho."
"Sounds good." He hummed, sinking deeper into the mattress.
Y/n took this as a sign to settle in as well, taking the pillow he had given her and placing it behind her back. "Did you miss all your classes this week?"
"Yeah. I did some wor– Your toes are cold!" He cried once her feet made contact with his upper arm, moving away from her.
Wiggling her toes, Y/n let out a loud laugh. "These piggies?"
"Gross!" Mingyu laughed, pushing them away.
"Gross? I thought you liked me!"
She was joking. She didn't know if he actually did have feelings for her – it had been such a long running joke, what was the harm of playing along?
"I thought so too!"
He was joking as well. He found it cute.
He found every part of her cute.
From the way her nose scrunched when she laughed, to the way she always painted her toes orange because she claimed it looked like little Cheetos. Mingyu was completely and utterly in love with the girl.
He watched as she settled down from the laughter, humming as she scrolled through her phone – completely unfazed by his gaze.
Oh he was down so bad.
"Hey," He tapped her leg, catching her attention. "I do– I– hm... I was joking."
"About?"
"I do."
"What?" Tilting her head to the side.
God, she was adorable.
"Never mind." He shook his head. He'll have to try another time – when he wasn't sick and able put together an actual, coherent sentence. "Wake me up when the food gets here, yeah?"
"Sleep tight, piggy."
"Are you calling me a toe?"
"A cute toe."
"A toe." He deadpanned.
"A cute toe!" She pushed.
Mingyu chuckled, knowing that there was no winning.
It wasn't like he cared anyways.
She could tell him that he looked like a chewed gum stuck on the bottom of her shoe, and he would take it.
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@thegirlwhoimagined @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @vanillacheol @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @jenoxygen @niktwazny303 @aahvii @fragmentof-indifference @leah-rose03 @haolistic @eclliipsed @joshuahongnumbers @gyuguys
(for some reason it's not allowing me to tag some who wanted to be added to the perm tag list ... cries... pls check ur settings so i can for future posts)
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Could you make a scenario with sick reader and Yandere doctor please 😭
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need him to walk into my room in a nurse outfit and take care of me when i get sick... but Alas he's not real... woe is me(༎ຶ⌑༎ຶ)..... WHATEVER i can always write about him anyways so im WINNING EITHER WAY...... (inhales copium) ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: yandere dottore, he's a little overbearing, reader has a cold. that's pretty much it (lmk if i missed anything!) includes: gn reader, dottore, iota (youngest segment) wc: 1,3k
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Ooohhhh he would be mad. Not in an explosive way, but in a “I’m not mad, just disappointed” way except he IS mad, he’s just really good at keeping his emotions under wraps. You know this, too. He made sure that you did. 
It didn’t matter what kind of illness you came down with; a common cold, the flu, something worse? He’s freakishly good at reading you, and he didn’t need to hear you blowing your nose or sniffling every other second to know you had gotten sick. The skin around your nose blossoming into a darker, reddish tone and your eyelids drooping just a bit lower than usual was enough for him to know you weren’t telling him something you should have. 
It also didn’t matter if you didn’t even see him- he had eyes everywhere, quite literally. It was rare for you to be anywhere in the palace or the lab without one of his clones attached to your hip, whether it be a younger clone tagging along to do something more interesting than breaking open a ruin guard, or an older clone staying by your side, taking a break from work to enjoy your company. 
So, of course, even if the doctor happened to be especially busy when you suddenly caught a cold, you’d still be stuck with him being the equivalent to a mother hen because of how seriously he took your health. 
Usually you didn’t mind his attention, you’d even bask in it, but this time you couldn’t stand it. Your state had been manageable for the past two days and, thankfully, Prime and his clones were none the wiser to your nose overproducing snot nor the way your eyes had more crust around them when you woke up in the morning. But you feared that today would be the day he’d catch you and promote you to being his bedwarmer- literally. Last time you got sick and went to him for help you felt like you were in urgent care, forced to stay in his bed, having at least two of his segments stay with you 24/7, making you eat four meals a day despite your lack of appetite and desperate need for sleep. 
You could insist all you want that you were fine, that you just needed to vegetate in bed for a day or two and you’d be back on your feet in no time, but no, he refused to have any of it. He’d ask who’s the doctor here? in the same condescending voice he used whenever one of his lackeys displeased him (and you’d reply with you didn’t even graduate if you weren’t so tired), and then would throw you over his shoulder to bring you to his spotless bedroom so you could rest while he keeps an eye on you.
The one thing you were happy about was how Dottore wasn’t prone to blatant violence. Nothing physical, at least. When needed, he would slip medication into your water to help you sleep, would graciously lift your sleeve to give you a shot while you were knocked out cold and give you special medicine to make sure you had all the vitamins you needed. He wouldn’t do any of that if you had cooperated with him in the first place, though; so, you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him. At least not for long. 
Like clockwork, you were currently going through that same order of events. 
In retrospect, it was a bad idea to indulge Iota and go out in the snow to make a snowman with him- but how could you resist him! The lab could feel so stuffy as it was, and the additional smell of blood covered up by strong cleaning agents only did so little to help you resist his pleas. So, you grabbed Dottore’s Harbinger coat and got yourself dragged outside by the small but mighty youngest segment as he eagerly talked your ear off about having a snowball fight, making a myriad of snow angels and other winter activities you weren’t familiar with. 
After getting absolutely pelted with snow (Iota was good at snowball fights, surprisingly) you hung up Dottore’s coat to dry and made your way to the bathroom to wipe off any snow and water that had gotten on your skin despite the large, fluffy cloak you wore. Iota waved you off with a boyish grin and a taunting better luck next time! as you watched him saunter off into the direction of his creator’s lab. Your fingertips felt cold but as you dried your skin thoroughly you felt your body gradually warm up, and that was enough for your standards. 
Placing the towel on a rack to dry, you then headed over to your room to relax your aching muscles after the remarkably intense snowball fight. You laid down underneath the covers, grateful to be able to take a nap. However, when you awoke about two hours later, you thought you felt your arms weighed even more than before, and your head throbbed an ache that wasn’t there previously. And surely, a day later, you find yourself sneakily throwing away your used tissues somewhere that Dottore won't find them, else he subjects you to his overbearing methods of... curing you. 
You did your best to make your footsteps as careful and light as possible, lowering the chances of one of them finding you with a trash bag full of snot-filled tissues. Unfortunately for you though, maybe you should have worn something other than pyjamas because, as luck had it, although a segment hasn’t seen your physical state, a patrolling agent did. 
He spoke into a walkie-talkie quietly enough that your ears didn’t pick up the sound of his voice and, as you're about to step outside to throw the trash bag out, you feel a hand on your shoulder. A cold, gloved hand that you could recognize anywhere with your eyes closed. You halt your movements as the (not so) mysterious figure behind you stays silent, waiting for you to say something first. 
Your shoulders slump forward in defeat, and you sniffle. “I don’t wanna be locked up in your room again,” you say quietly, voice slightly slurred from your cold. He scoffs, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently enough for it to be comforting. “Maybe if you didn’t try to go outside while having a cold I would reevaluate your options,” he sighs. “Alas, you leave me no choice. What were you thinking?” Dottore turns you around and frowns, tilting his head to the side. If you were anyone else you would have been dead where you stood, but here you are; wearing one of his old shirts and a loose pair of sweatpants, one of your hands gripping a trash bag, and the other wiping your nose. You stand awkwardly, looking away sheepishly, not particularly enjoying being caught red-handed like this. 
“It would be unhygienic to keep all of those used tissues in my room,” you respond with a nonchalant shrug. He holds back the urge to sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, mask lifting just a tad from the action, and exhales slowly. You would be the death of him eventually, he thought tiredly. 
Dottore bends down low enough to grab the bag from your hands and looks over his shoulder, tossing it to a poor unsuspecting fatui soldier. The soldier in question stumbles back slightly, just barely keeping themselves from tripping over, as Dottore signals for them to throw it away themselves. You don’t have the time to speak up before the person scurries away. 
“Next time don’t be so obvious,” he says quietly enough that only you can hear him. He bends his torso forward slightly, holding his face leveled with yours. “And next time you decide to get sick,” he begins with a raspy tone, holding your chin up with his palm, “come to me immediately. Lest you want me to wrestle you into my room again.” 
You’d be blushing if you didn’t know what was going to happen. Dottore straightens his back and outstretches his hand to you, looking at you from below his mask. Defeated, you interlace your fingers with his and jut your lip out as you hold back the urge to whine. A small smile graces his face as he guides you back to the lab. 
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writingseaslugs · 9 months
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Diasomnia: When They're Sick
Ahhhhhh finally! This dorm actually took the longest because I kept getting side tracked with other things. Took me two days to write it. I blame my friend, Em. We had write night and we couldn’t stop talking long enough for me to write these. I got midway through Lilia before giving up.
Disclaimer: All characters in this series are aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please click the “Au Information” below!
Request Information | Masterlist | Au Information
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Diasomnia: When They’re Sick
Fae sickness was something that was vastly different from the kind that humans experience. It’s normally stronger and makes the person infected feel like a zombie. Thankfully the virus doesn’t circulate too often, but when it does it comes through like a hurricane. All it takes is for one person to visit Briar Valley when it’s going around and then come back to the dorm and everyone who can get it is sick. Sadly this happened and to say that everyone was in the dorm was suffering was an understatement. Even the humans were getting sick from flu season…overall not the best time to be visiting Diasomnia.
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Malleus Draconia
Malleus hadn’t been sick in a hot minute…how long we’ll never know. It just never really happened to the Dragon Fae. So when he did come down with a surprise flu that was exclusive to Fae, it caused a bit of an uproar in Diasomnia. Most students were told to keep quiet about the situation, but it didn’t stop rumors from spreading as Malleus began missing some classes. Sebek was tense while going to school and Lilia, for the most part, also wasn’t attending classes so he could care of the prince.
Lilia is the one who actually shows up to your dorm room to inform you about Malleus’s condition. He isn’t very subtle about it either, in fact he was a bit over dramatic as to how bad off Malleus was. Now at this point, the worst of his illness is gone. Lilia wasn’t about to drag you in for that shit show that was the first few days of the fae flu, but he is dragging you in on the last few days in order to help Malleus feel better emotionally. Poor dragon boy has been stuck inside his room not being able to do much, and it caused him to be restless. The moment he sees you appear in his room his entire day has already brightened up.
Malleus has no issues taking medicine, though what he takes is certainly not something you’d be used to. The glowing liquid in the vial looks almost alien as you hand it over to him. There were several lined up, all labeled according to when he had to take them. It was odd seeing him chug the glowing liquid since it was still glowing in his neck as he took it, only to fade out when it got past the neck. Apparently it was special medicine made in Briar Valley that was specially made to help combat the flu.
Please do him a favor and make something for him to eat…please. Lilia has been in charge of bringing him his meals, so some of them have been unique. Granted, Lilia did try following the recipes this time around to make sure Malleus didn’t get worse from his cooking, but they can only help so much. Lilia can’t help but think “Maybe if I add this it’ll help him feel better faster.” which ended up in a vile concoction. So please bring him something good to eat so he can have a palate cleanser. He’ll probably be asking if you can stay until he’s better just so he doesn’t have to eat another of Lilia's specialty meals.
You’re going to be receiving random gifts at your home as soon as he’s better, along with several letters. Chivalry isn’t dead when it comes to the dragon fae, and he’s making it known that he appreciates what you’ve done. You’re never going to find out about the earlier stages of him being sick though, so don’t worry. That’s something that you probably will never see in your lifetime if he has anything to say about it.
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Lilia Vanrouge
Lilia is also someone who doesn’t get sick very often; the last time he did was before Malleus was even born. So to say he was shocked when he began feeling sickly was an understatement. He knew exactly what was going on too, he had the fae flu a few times in the past, and it’s a feeling you never forget. So he’s already getting medicine prepared and telling everyone that he’s going to be taking time away from classes for maybe a week or two.
Lilia originally wasn’t going to be dragging you into this, but when you found out from Malleus that Lilia was acting strange and isolating himself in his room, you were curious. Lilia was in his room, covered in tissues with a red nose and watery eyes, staring at the ceiling. He didn’t even notice you had come in, which says something. Of course he’s going to accept help even if it does pain him to let you see him like this, but he isn’t exactly able to do much himself at the moment.
Once he has you taking care of him, he’s going to be so happy and be far more of a big baby than he was earlier. He now has you to give him medicine and attention, and he’s living for it. He’s never actually had anyone taking care of him while he was sick, so this is new and pleasant for him. He’s going to be over the moon but also extra needy as he begs for an extra dose of medicine even though he had some like five minutes ago. You’re going to have to remind him to let it kick in, but he can’t help the whining. It’s so fun watching your facial expressions and despite being sick, he still needs to mess with you somehow.
This is the only time he might complain; and it’s not even for the reasons you think. He’ll take one bite of your food and comment he can’t taste anything, before asking for you to take him to the kitchen so he can add flavor. Don’t. Let. Him. Absolutely don’t let him even leave the room, he’s contagious and he’s aware, but he also really wants something with a strong taste so it’s a mix of emotions. Just let him know you’ll see what you can do and maybe grab something that’s…different to put into his meal next. It doesn't have to be good, it just has to be unique.
Once he’s better he is so hyped to be able to hang out with you again. He’s going to be jumping off the walls and thanking you for being such a good caretaker for the poor, old Bat. Silver, Malleus, and Sebek will also be thankful to you for helping Lilia, since he refused to let any of them see him while he was sick. He apparently didn’t even let Silver into the room, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to catch whatever he had. Lilia didn’t want anyone to see him so weak and frail, but you guess since you came in unannounced he didn’t have much of a choice.
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Silver
Silver clearly can’t get a disease that targets fae, but that doesn't mean he can’t still get a cold. Falling asleep in random places can really ruin someone’s health, and Silver is no exception. He fell asleep outside and it got a bit too late, a little bit too cold. The next thing he knew he had a horrible cold and a raging headache that wouldn’t go away. So he did what was best and went to his room and tried to sleep it off without a second thought.
Silver in the past was always able to get over colds very fast, so Lilia never was too worried when he found out Silver was under the weather. You, on the other hand, were very concerned. If Silver just slept it off, then he might get better, but it was best to treat the cold as best you could. After all, colds could turn to pneumonia in the blink of an eye, and that can literally kill a human. Somehow this passed by Lilia’s knowledge so he never cared too much, but after you express this concern he goes full dad mode. He doesn't know much about treating humans though, so you’re the one leading the way. Thankfully Silver is too out of it to protest.
Silver will take whatever you give him judging by how he’s half asleep when you’re there. Whenever he’s sick he’s extra tired and literally can barely keep himself awake. It’s extremely concerning but Lilia swears it’s how he’s always been. Silver might be able to thank you while he’s half asleep, but that’s about it. Thankfully the taste doesn’t get to him while he’s in this state, so no worries about him spitting out the medicine or fighting due to the flavor.
This is the most challenging part about him being sick. Again…he can barely keep himself conscious. Just getting him to sit upright to have a meal is a struggle. You’re basically spoon feeding him as he begins dozing off every couple of seconds. You need to make sure he doesn’t drown in his soup. At one point, smelling salts actually do sound like a rather good idea to use on him. It’s going to take a solid hour for him to finish whatever meal you bring to him, but at least he’s eaten something. Normally when it’s just Lilia, he won’t eat until he’s all better. Small improvements are still improvements!
Silver hardly remembers being sick, but he does recall glimpses of you between his fever dreams. Once he’s back, he’ll be thanking you and asking if you’d like to go on a walk. It’s just his way of saying thanks. The walk is mainly so all the forest animals will run up and greet you guys, since they were all concerned once Silver was gone. The animals and Silver are very grateful for the efforts you put forward to assisting him in getting better. While he can’t promise he’ll be able to give the same care for you, he can at least say he’ll do his best if you ever fall ill.
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Sebek Zigvolt
Sebek, out of everyone, is the worst when it comes to denying he’s sick. He could literally pass out from exhaustion from his illness, and he’d get back up and apologize for his displays in front of Malleus. Lilia is the one telling Sebek he needs to rest, and the only way Sebek will is if Lilia reminds him that his illness is contagious and could make Malleus ill. So of course this leads Sebek to going to another extreme and barricading himself in his dorm room so that no germs can get out. This makes it hard for anyone but Lilia to get in to check on him.
He refuses to let a human help him; you have no idea what a fae illness is. How could you possibly help? Wait…Malleus personally asked you to come help nurse him back to help since you can’t catch whatever it is he has? Why of course, Lord Malleus is so generous and he needs his guard back as soon as possible, so it makes sense he’d send a servant to help him. Just remind him you aren’t a servant and you’re here because you care for him. He will get flustered but will do his best after he is finally open to you helping him out.
Medicine is something that he’s not super stoked on taking, but if Lilia bought it, then he’ll take it. He will give you the side eye if you stare at him while taking it and ask what’s so interesting about it. When he grimaces it’s a bit funny with how his face scrunches up and he quickly tries to conceal it. You caught it though, it was so obvious that he disliked the taste and it was oh so adorable.
He’s not super picky when it comes to the stuff he eats while sick, as long as Lilia hasn’t touched it. He might even comment that it tastes good for something a human managed to cook up. That’s him secretly saying that it tastes amazing and he loves it, he’s just not going to say all of that out loud. He does prefer it if the meals will help him get better faster though, so keep that in mind. He also wants a lot of protein to be in it so he doesn’t lose bulk, because he might still be trying to work out while sick. Smack him over the head and tell him to take a chill pill and relax. If need be, get Lilia to do it for you. He needs rest and it’s not something he’s good at.
Once he’s better he’ll thank you out of obligation, because Lilia literally won’t let him go without saying it. He might even be blushing but he’s going to have to add something to make it into a subtle insult. “You played a good nurse…well for a human at least.” at least it’s something. Just inform him that it wasn’t for free and the next time you’re sick, he’s the one giving you medicine and home cooked meals. He can’t even say he won’t. He can’t be indebted to a human, after all.
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clockwayswrites · 1 year
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Like Betta Fish Do - Part 9
Masterpost of ao3 link and all parts. wc: 2920
Jason hated Danny, a little. The other had really (accidentally) downplayed the effect the ectoshot would have. Flu like symptoms his ass, Jason felt like his insides were trying to crawl their way to the outside. Danny had apologized profusely and frequently, and Jason had forgiven him. Still, he hated Danny a little for doing this to him. Danny earned a lot of points back, though, by acting as Jason’s personal ice pack through the worst of the fever. Jason spent a lot of hours with his head or chest pressed against Danny’s cold back as he lay, miserable, on the couch with Danny sat on the floor in front of it. It was even nicer when Danny would absently run cold fingers through Jason’s hair and scratch lightly at his scalp. Jason tried not to think about how good that felt. How easy it was to let Danny touch him. He was determined to just blame the fever and ignore how his very bones seemed to hum in pleasure at the contact. Or maybe it was Danny humming. Purring? Fuck this fever, seriously.
So Jason sat close to Danny and Danny spent most of the time doing homework on a laptop that looked one step from death. “Summer classes,” he explained when Jason asked. “I’m trying to get all my gen eds done so that I can double major. Maybe even triple? I don’t know if I want to have spend the time on the language classes a Math major needs.” Jason hummed in response, trying to tuck the information away in his sick ailed brain. He couldn’t decided if he hoped Danny and Tim never met (con, they were both too damn smart), or if he desperately wanted them to meet (pro, Tim would replace all of Danny’s failing tech in a pique of disgust). Maybe the scholarship already came with a new laptop? That sounded like it would be a Tim thing to do, but Jason wasn’t sure how involved Tim was in the scholarships. “Math sucks,” he settled on. | “Sure it does, book boy. I bet you were an English major.” Danny had found Jason’s pile of books early on the second day  and made fun of him. But Danny had also found both ‘Pride and Prejudice’ movies to download and had put them on for Jason to watch. They had spend all day trying to make it through the Colin Firth one as Danny kept pausing it whenever Jason dozed off due to the fever. “Nah. Never even finished high school. Too busy being dead,” Jason mumbled and tried to press closer to the cold. Danny must have done something because the chill increased. Jason let out a content sigh. He was almost asleep when Danny spoke. “You’re not just dead any more. You can still have a life.” “Don’t know if I deserve one.” “Of course you do,” Danny said. Danny didn’t know what Jason had done, the Pit groaned in response. Jason let himself slip asleep rather than deal with either of them.
-
The next time Jason drifted towards consciousness, there was a hand on his forehead. It wasn’t right though. It was familiar, but it wasn’t right. “Too warm.” “You sure are Jaybird. You’re burning up.” Jason jolted up and almost fell right back over as the world swam around him. When it solidified, it settled into a very different pair of worried blue eyes than he was expecting. “Big bird?” But if Dick was here, where was Danny? There was no sign of the other now; no laptop or textbooks or scribbled equations. Too many takeout boxes stacked too messily were the only clue, but Jason figured that could be excused by his sick state. Jason knew that Danny hadn’t been with him the whole time he’d been sick. The other clearly came and went at least a few times to pick up food, his school work, and other supplies. What Jason didn’t know if the timing was just lucky or if Danny had managed to disappear before Dick had made it past all the safeguards. He hoped Danny wasn’t stuck hiding in a closet or something. “What?” Jason asked. Dick had been saying something to him, but Jason hasn’t caught a word of it. He rubbed at his eyes to try and focus. “Did you get dosed?” “Does? No. Just the stupid flu or something,” Jason lied. “Why are you here?” “Because you didn’t show up for patrol for a few days in a row, little bird,” Dick said softly. He brushed Jason’s sweat soaked hair off his forehead. Jason swayed into the touch. Not even two days of finally being touched apparently was all it took to lose his self control. At least Dick wasn’t shying away from him right then. Not like he normally did. Right, his brother had said something. “That made you break into my place? You know that was fucking stupid. What if I’d been…” Jason trailed off and motioned to his eyes. What if he’d been in a Pit rage. “You don’t drop off from everything like this when you are. We were worried,” Dick said. He sounded worried, but Jason didn’t feel like he could figure out if it was real right then, not with his head so full of cotton. Maybe it was. This was Dick, he seemed to care. Of course, then Dick had to go and add, “You should have checked in.” Jason snorted at that. “Not for patrol reasons,” Dick said, rolling his eyes. “So that we didn’t worry, little bird. And so that I could have brought some soup from Alfred.” “Mmm… yeah, would have been worth it for the soup,” Jason decided after a moment. “Most things are worth Alfred’s soup,” Dick agreed with a chuckle. “But no, you had to be stubborn and not let us know you were sick so there’s no soup for you.” “Shut up,” Jason grumbled with no real heat. He tried to let himself fall back onto the couch but was stopped by Dick pulling him forward. “Nu-uh. We’re going to get you up and into the shower. You’ll feel better in clean clothes and I can change the blankets on the couch and get these through the wash.” “No.” “Yes,” Dick said in a sing-song voice that made Jason want to punch him. Instead he let Dick help him off the couch. Now that it had been mentioned, a shower really did sound good. He was left propped up against the door frame of the bathroom while Dick got the shower started. The sound of the water was almost soothing, and Jason eyes drifted closed. Normally the Pit would be snarling at him to stay alert— to stay focused and on guard— even (especially) in the presence of his family, but it seemed as drained by the ectoshot as he was and stayed quiet. “Jay?” “Hum?” “Do I need to get you to a hospital?” Jason pried his eyes open to glare at his brother. When had Dick gotten so close? He hovered just in front of Jason like if he wanted to reach out and pull Jason close. Shit, Dick really was worried, wasn’t he? “It’s just the stupid flu or something.” “I don’t know, you’re really out of it, Jay. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you with your guard like this.” “’S fine,” Jason said and let his eyes close again. “You’re here. I’m safe.” “Okay little bird,” Dick said softly and started to help Jason out of his sweat soaked shirt. “Let me take care of you.”
-
Dick helped peel off Jason’s shirt and tossed it on the floor. This wasn’t his first time undressing and shoving one of his family members into the shower. Being a vigilante left no room for modesty between the mortal wounds, medical procedures, and decontamination processes. It was easy to be clinical about it at this point. Besides, his mind was too busy reeling over Jason’s words. Jason felt safe with him. Jason, who even when he was sitting right next to them, still held them at arm’s length. Who Dick wasn’t sure would even show up at the few family meals he did attended if it weren’t for Alfred’s cooking. Who struggled to share any details about a case. Who didn’t ask for help when he was this sick… … felt safe with him. Dick had to bite his lip to keep the tears from welling up. He hadn’t thought Jason would ever trust him again, not really. He hadn’t been sure if he’d ever really have his brother back. He didn’t even need— want— Jason back in a creepy ‘just like he was before’ sort of way. Dick knew that was impossible. Jason dying had changed them all. Him coming back had changed them again. Jason had talked to Dick about it once, just a little. They had both been drunk— Jason more than Dick— and Jason had talked. He had talked like the words were spilling out of him, bleeding out of him; a soft steady flow of horror. There in the dim light of Dick’s apartment Jason had talked, just a little, about what it was like to live with the Pit rage in him. How it was like a rabid dog on a leash that was barking, barking barking. Dick didn’t know how someone even thought over that noise, but he was so damn proud of Jason for managing. He was so damn proud of Jason for clawing his way back to life— out of his grave and out of his madness and out of his rage. He didn’t want the old Jason back. He just wanted a chance to get to be a brother to this Jason. He was so damn proud of the man he’d become. His eyes ran over the horrible autopsy scars that crossed Jason’s chest. The stark reminder of exactly why Dick hadn’t been sure they’d ever really have Jason back. Jason, when he had to change around them, always did it as quickly as possible. But right then the scars were on full display. Because Jason was trusting Dick to see them. Dick tried hard not to think too much about it. Jason needed his help right then. He could deal with the mental fallout later. With some wrangling, Dick got Jason into the shower. After getting fresh clothing, he took a seat on the closed toilet, flicking through his phone from somewhere to order food from. He wanted to be close by in case Jason lost his balance in the shower. “Is Ben’s good for pizza?” “What?” At least Jason was sounding a little more clear headed. “Ben’s. I’m ordering food.” “Yeah. Get a supreme. The chicken bbq one is good too.” “Got it.” Dick selected the pizzas, added maybe too much garlic bread to the order, and submitted it. Then he pulled up the family chat. The one that Jason still refused to be part of. Dick: So Jason’s running a pretty bad fever. He thinks it’s the flu. Oracle: He’s actually staying home and not patrolling when he’s sick? Tim: Shit. It’s that bad? Dick: He’s pretty out of it. Shower seems to be helping and I’m ordering food. I’m going to stay the night here unless you need me on patrol. Bruce: We’ll rearrange patrols. Keep an eye on him. Dick: Will do. He wasn’t going to let Jason down again.
-
When Jason woke on day four, he felt good. He wasn’t perfect, he knew that. Danny had said it would take at least a few infusions— maybe several if his core took to it badly. He might never be without lingering effects. But even with just the one shot of ectoplasm Jason felt better than he had in years. Jason let himself linger in bed for a bit, slowly stretching out his sore muscles, before sounds from his kitchen made him stir. The press of otherness was back, so Jason assume that Danny was back. His arrival still made Jason shudder with a chill of cold. It wasn’t as overwhelming as it used to be, but there was never any doubt when Danny was around. Yesterday Dick had hardly left his He’d convinced Dick that he would be fine for the day and that he should go to work. Dick had still insisted on waking Jason up in the morning before he headed out, but Jason had rolled over and went back to sleep. And now Danny was back. The sound of something clattering, followed by cursing, had Jason finally rolling out of bed and heading to the kitchen. He half debated at least pulling on a shirt over his sleep pants, but the cursing had turned rather fevered. Besides, he didn’t think that Danny would be bothered by his scarring. He had to stop in the doorway to the kitchen and just stare. Smoke hung in the air. Danny was right in the middle of it— holding an ice covered frying pan out at arms length. Jason was pretty sure the tips of Danny’s bangs were singed. Jason was smirking. He knew he was. He really couldn’t help it. “I can see why you always bought food these last few days.” Danny whirled to face him, blue eyes wide. He made a cut off little noise and flushed bright red. Chuckling, Jason stepped into to the space— the kitchen was hardly big enough for two people— and reached around Danny to turn the burner off. Danny’s arm was cold as he brushed against it. When Jason pulled back and Danny was still just staring at him and had grown redder. “You good there, fish?” “Um, what? Oh!” Danny finally blinked. The blush went right to the tips of his ears. “Right, yeah? But, um, I don’t think that the eggs are okay.” “Don’t know if my frying pan is either,” Jason said, eying the frozen hunk of metal. “Sorry,” Danny said with a wince and dumped it in the sink. He waved his hand and let the ice melt. Scorched eggs washed down the sink. “How did you burn them so badly?" Jason asked. He was actually a little impressed. “I never learned to cook, okay? We didn’t really cook at my house so I’m having to pick up all of it now,” Danny said with a little shrug. “It’s, ah, not going so well.” “Neither of your parents chefs?” “Too much ambient ectoplasm,” Danny said as he tried to scrub at the charred pan. Jason didn’t think it would do any good. “When the casserole tries to eat you back one too many times you sort of give up on eating at home.” “What.” “Reanimated food. They’re always bastards. I have scars from the hot dogs still,” Danny said and also gave up on the pan and turned around to lean against the counter. “…I have so many questions and I don’t know if I want answers.” Danny shrugged again. He picked at the ends of the hoodie he was wearing, unraveling the ragged edge further. “You probably don’t. So, um, I was in the right to leave the other night, right?” “Yeah. It was my brother checking up on me. I don’t think I’m ready to explain all of this,” Jason said, giving a little wave of his hand to indicated everything as he leaned against the counter next to Danny. Danny glanced at him, his eyes flickering over the chest scars and back up. “They do know you died, right?” “Sorta hard to miss,” Jason said, crossing his arms. “But they think the Pits brought me back. We all did. Not that…” “It’s different, knowing you’re still dead,” Danny filled in where Jason trailed off. “Yeah. I’ll tell them later, maybe, but I want things to settle more. Shit, wait, am I going to get powers like you have? Then I’ll have to, I guess. It would hard to hide magical ice.” “Oh, you probably wont get ice. There are lots of difference cores. There’s all the elemental ones, fire and electricity and things, but also like, technology and shadow and a the Ancients can have really unique ones like time and hope. We won’t know what yours is until we get rid of the corrupted goop and you have enough ectoplasm.” “Huh,” Jason said with a frown. “So more ectoshots?” “More ectoshots. But we’ll give you a few weeks in between so you can recover. I’ve got to get myself moved to Gotham anyways, and I don’t really think you should take any of it if I’m not around, just in case your powers do develop.” “Yeah, alright,” Jason said, brain already working on how to hide all of this from the Bats. He was just starting to get things back to better with them. He didn’t want to throw ‘hey, turns out I’m still a little dead’ into the mix. He didn’t want to see the looks on their faces at that news. He didn’t want to break anyone’s heart again. He didn’t want to lose them again. Jason cleared his throat. “Well, guess I better give you my number then. Not that I don’t know when you’re around, but would be shit of you to have to come all this way just to check on me. How do you keep  getting back and forth, anyways?” “Oh, sometimes I use a portal but mostly I just fly.” “You what?”
-----
AN: So this chapter was originally a single scene, but it decided it really needed more time. Then Dick decided to show up. I’ve gone back and forth about showing a POV other than Jason or Danny, but Jason is such an unreliable narrator about himself and Danny doesn’t know how Jason used to be, and I wanted to be able to show that. So Dick will show up a few times! He’s mostly here to have feelings.
And yes, Danny was totally bluescrened by shirtless Jason there at the end! I debated the POV for that, but thought it was funner that Jason has no clue why Danny is blushing like a tomato.
This is rough in places, I know, but my focus has been shot by pain. Besides, cleaning it up is what rewrites are for! Speaking of, rewrite of chapter 3 will be up on ao3 Thursday! Thank you all always for your wonderful response to this and stay delightful, darlings!
Tag Cult, as it has lovinly(?) been called: @fisticuffsatapplebees | @thegatorsgoose | @wolfeyedwitch | @lazy-bouqet | @confusedandghostly | @glomsk | @kailithiel | @bahfev | @d4ydr34min9 | @claudiashq | @someonebored0100 | @pastalavistamf | @samgirl98 | @angelheartgamer | @lehana37 | @spiteismymiddlename | @rosecinnamonbun | @demon-cat-goes-woof | @violet-catsarelife | @trickerdi | @avelnfear | @undead-essence | @basilf1res | @amillionandonefandoms | @stealingyourbones | @sarcastic-yami | @bun-fish | @aconitewolfsbane | @dontfightmecauseillcry | @omgnectarina | @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff | @the-blind-one-speaks | @mimilikey | @wolfe-marvin | @learning-to-fly-on-my-own | @multplelifes | @yurijay | @trickerdi | @bae-graphomaniac | @jeffeniney | @fan4rt1st | @weirdestarrow | @wolfjackle | @allulily | @onyxlightdragon | @zotinha456 | @wwwwyamd | @river9noble | @starscreamlover | @michealawithana | @robinmedea | @spideypoolalways | @jesus-camp-the-sequel | @persephoneblackrose | @clorophorm-frog | @f4nd0m-fun | @mady-is-ace-trash | @ascetic-orange | @renwilson | @ace-aro-as-shit | @rangerhorsetug | @thatrandomsarahchick | @holygoldfish | @mlpizza | @chrysanthemum9484 | @justwannaseesomebrozawa | @newgraywolf | @crazylittlemunchkin | @fire-glass​ | @eonic | @autumnrosnor | @the-nerdy-fangirl | @faithblob-says-things | @aisec-phantom | @a-star-with-a-human-name | @winged-scaly-attic-dweller​ | @mistermetalmaker | @apersond | @mustachebatschaos | @goadinggods | @joaniejustwokeup | @that-dumbass-on-a-horse | @plainly-colorful​ | @blackcatsandhaunteddolls | @booklover223 | @alice-hazelwood | @answrs | @enbydemirainbowbigfoot | @felicityroth | @wanderingrutabaga | @seraphinedemort | @write-it-right-2 | @decisively-o-indecisive | @my-mom-calls-me-rat | @01101010-01100001-01111001 | @arc-777 | @crystalice067 | @phoenixdemonqueen | @icedbluesoul  | @itsparadoxlacuna | @wisp-wishes | @spikedlynx | @redhoneysugarorange | @blu-lilac | @russetfur1128 | @mutable-manifestation | @stargirl1331 | @salembloodsong | @chaoticchange | @living-on-borrowed-time | @orshie | @britcision | @littlefeather345 | @sunflowershine03 | @aro-acedumbass | @thefanficcup | @shibanoh | @blackcatsandhaunteddolls | @racoonmcg |@ashoutinthedarkness | @icefirecrystal | @thatonejumbledmess | @cy-ella | @dolfay | @kobol1​ | @skjiasett | @metal-sporks | @tired-yet-awaken | @currant-owo | @firegirl108 | @stupidlovepurplepeace | @drowningroane | @imagineshazamlokimight | @immakittybear | @justalittletotheleftofnormal | @akikoyuii | @chrysanthemum9484 | @kawaiikenna | @imaginationmademanifest | @wisebouquettree | @a-salty-sal  | @mentalcarebear | @mj-arts-n-stuff​ | @thescarletcryptid | @xysidhe​ | @cottonscrambles​ | @manapeer​ | @yjfk​ | @ryisc​ | @666deaddash999​ | @nutcase8691​ | @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit​ | @yumeyoruppr | @latheevening226 | @dr-syko-pharm-4​ | @i-have-opinion​ |
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bb-eilish · 1 year
Text
Keep eating
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pairing; yeonjun x sick!gnreader
warnings; neck kissing, teasing, nothing serious, fluff, suggestive stuff, groping,
summary; simply being touched by yeonjun has you needy even if you are sick.
A/n; i thought this was a cute idea, enjoy!!
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“Here, Y/n. This should help with your fever.” He gently sets a bowl of cold seaweed soup on your nightstand. It smells delicious.
“Thank you, Yeonnie.” He offers a soft smile before crawling into the spot next to you. “Of course, eat up.” With a huff you push yourself into a sitting position and reach for the bowl, it’s cold against your calves as your pants have risen a bit from the crisscross-applesauce position you’re in. The first taste is borderline addicting, it always surprises you when Yeonjun makes such good food. Why can’t he cook every meal?
There’s not much that could distract you at the moment, but your boyfriend absentmindedly playing with the waistband of your pajama pants while scrolling on his phone is one of them. The touch has you remembering how long it’s been since you’ve both been intimate last, 2 whole weeks because of the stupid flu. Usually the simple touches wouldn’t have gotten to you, but you can’t help but yearn to feel him again.
Yeonjun seems to have noticed how you froze, spoon in mid air as you stare off into space. “Y/n?” He calls, the hand on your waistband moves to the top of your thigh and rubs in soothing motions, it only seems to worsen your current state. Before it ends up spilling all over you and your sheets, you move the bowl back to its original place on the furniture beside you and turn to Yeonjun. He raises an eyebrow at you and chuckles when you dive into his arms, your head snuggly fitting against his neck as you breathe him in.
“What’s the matter?” You can tell he’s worried and a part of you feels guilty for causing it, but at the moment you’re not able to think very clearly. His scent surrounds you and you wish to forgo the stuffy clothing you both are wearing. “Just missed you…” You trail off, nosing the expanse of his neck. Your hands drift down to the hem of his shirt and feel up the skin beneath it greedily. He’s warm and the ache between your thighs only becomes worse.
Yeonjun’s confused until the hand under his shirt digs its nails into his torso and drags you impossibly closer. He breathes out a laugh before speaking, “Y/n, you’re sick.” You let out a whine and dig your face further into his neck, nonverbally answering him.
“Y/n…” His voice cracks when you begin leaving rushed kisses under his ear, his hands grip your waist—ready to push you away at any given moment, but he doesn’t. He can’t deny how much he’s missed you, so his rational thinking is a little delayed. Especially when the hand under his shirt trails down to the waistband of the sweatpants he’s wearing and dips a finger or two teasingly beneath it.
It’s like there’s an angel and a devil on either one of his shoulders and they’re continuously arguing over what he should do next. The invisible devil seems to have won when his hands on your waist move down to get a good grip on your ass, the action has a needy whine bubbling against his neck from your mouth.
“Fuck, missed you too.” You smile in victory as he rolls you both over. Yeonjun leans down to kiss you but freezes, you sniffle for a second and it has him pulling away from you. The way your mouth is slightly open because you can’t breathe through your nose, the way your eyes are slightly red and glassy, …the way you’re still sick. His eyes soften and he sighs, he leans back down, planting a loving kiss to your warm temple before laying next to you again.
“Keep eating, Sweetie.” He mumbles.
“What? B-but, Junnie. I need you.” You look at him incredulously with a pout staining your lips. He simply brushes away strands of hair that fell in front of your eyes before he repeats himself softly. “Keep eating.”
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literaila · 1 year
Text
i’m not sick
tasm!peter x reader 
summary: 
“i’m not taking that. you could’ve poisoned it.” 
“or i could be trying to help.” 
“highly unlikely.” 
warnings: the flu, peter, fluff
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*
peter slams the door shut every time he comes home. 
it's something that you've talked about in length. 
"why can't you just close it like a normal person?" 
"then how would you know i'm home?" 
and, in all actuality, you've grown fond of it. because he's right, in some strange, annoying way. 
it's nice to know that he's home. nice to live with someone else that you love so dearly. 
today though, you're not in the mood. 
so when peter arrives home, slamming the door as he walks through, whistling a tune you don't recognize, you begin smothering yourself in a pillow. 
you groan and bury yourself even further into the mountain of blankets you've collected on the couch. 
"hey, baby," he calls through the halls. probably because your shoes are right by the door. 
or maybe because peter has memorized your schedule. either way. 
he lets out an exhausted yelp--because this is peter--and you can hear him as he moves through the house, never quiet, never really wanting to be. 
"i've been thinking about the dishwasher," he says, probably throwing his bag on the ground, probably messing up whatever organized house you used to have. "and i don't think you need to call maintenance, i think if i just--" 
and then he's right in front of you. footsteps slowing as he reaches the couch. 
"hey," he whispers to you, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "afternoon nap?" 
you, of course, are still completely invisible under all of the blankets. 
peter carefully peels them away, getting hair in your eyes during the process. 
"hi, bub," he says, sort of cooing. his finger brushes away the hair in front of your eyes, landing on your cheek. "did i wake you up?" 
"no," you answer, scowl a permanent fixture on your face. 
peter raises an eyebrow. 
you stare back, awaiting his verdict. 
because there's definitely something about all of this. definitely not some very obvious reason that you are laying on the couch in a hut of your own misery, or why earlier today you had to leave work early. 
"what's with that?" peter asks, softly. there's a hint of frown on his face like whatever you say next will change the outcome of this situation. 
"what's with what?" you respond, playing dumb even though you can hear the gravel-like notion of your voice. 
even though your nose feels of something like a clogged pipe. 
peter snorts, just a little, and tilts his head. "are you getting sick?" 
his hand moves to your forehead, palm warm. 
"no," you insist, with the willpower of a two-year-old child. 
"sore throat?" 
you shake your head against his hand. 
peter has pity in his eyes. some egregious, very annoying stare as he looks at you. 
"headache?" 
"i'm fine, peter," you say, pushing his hand away. 
"you're warm." 
"i turned the thermostat up," you give him your biggest smile--maybe because you've had many an argument about leaving the heater alone, or maybe because you're a treacherous liar. 
"c'mon, bug," peter says. "your voice is all scratchy and you're wincing from the light." 
"i'm wincing at your sheer beauty," you say, as doing so. 
"flu's goin' around," peter says, sitting up, smiling down at you. "have you taken any medicine?" 
"no, because i'm not sick." 
"i think we've got some tylenol..." peter is not paying attention to you as he walks away. 
you frown at the ceiling, think about leaving for a couple of days until he can no longer hold this against you. and so you can keep this illness away from him. 
an illness which you have no part in, thank you very much. 
you're not sick. just tired. 
"i'm really fine," you tell peter, from a room away. "i didn't sleep very well last night. i think that's it." 
peter walks back into the room with a glass of water and a couple of pills. "take this," he says, because he is high and mighty. 
"i'm not taking that." you push his hand away, glaring. "you could've poisoned it." 
peter laughs. "or i could be trying to help." 
"highly unlikely," you say. 
"bug," peter says, pushing it at you again. "just take it, please. it'll help with the fever." 
"i don't have a fever." 
peter sighs and hangs his head. "are you going to be like this all night?" 
"i'm being an angel." 
"an angel of irritation, maybe," peter says. you begrudgingly take the medicine from him, swallowing it with a wince. 
you would very much like to kick him out. to banish him to the bedroom until further notice, but peter does not listen to. nor will he ever. 
"drink the rest of that," he says. "have you eaten?" 
"i had crackers at lunch." 
"so, no." 
"peter," you say, attempting some sort of sweetness. "i'm okay. i think you should go and change. you just got home. i can take care of myself." 
peter snorts like this is funny. 
you frown. "i'm serious." 
"i know," he says, staring at you adoringly. he kisses your forehead, moving your legs so that he can sit down next to you on the couch. 
"peter," you whine, somewhat maturely. 
"yes?" 
"don't be rude." 
he laughs again. 
"seriously," you say, gesturing towards the door. "go clean up. i'll sit here and do nothing. i promise." 
"i'm not that smelly," he says, pretending to check. 
you frown, giving him a dry look. 
he pushes your leg, mock offended. 
"i'll be fine." 
"i know you will," peter claims. "i just want to spend some time with you." 
"you're coddling me." 
"everyone needs to be taken care of every once in a while. you're sick." 
"i'm not sick." 
he stares at you, lip quirked in amusement. 
you stare back daring him to continue. 
you dare him time and time again to prove this love that he claims to feel for you. to show you with more than just words. 
and this is what he decides to do. 
"c'mon, i haven't seen you all day. can't we just sit here for a little bit?" peter asks, interrupting. 
"no. i don't want to get you sick. and you're sweaty." 
"i thought you weren't sick?" 
you frown, trying to take it all back in an instant. 
but peter interrupts you with a smile. he's leaning in close enough that you don't have time to get a word out. 
"it's okay," he says, lips very close to yours. "i already got my flu shot." 
you push him away, groaning. "peter." 
"just one?" 
"none," you say. "go. i'll be here when you get back." 
peter laughs, sitting up again. he pulls at your blanket with a finger, smiling wider when you frown. he nudges his hand against you, tilting his head. 
begrudgingly you let him grab the blanket, letting the cold air in, and then climbing under with you. 
you let him snuggle close to you, arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer. 
"this is not recommended by the cdc." 
"neither is banishing your boyfriend to the shower." 
still, you nuzzle your nose into his shirt, breathing in the gross essence of him. you listen to his heartbeat, allowing it to lull your headache away. 
peter is not as warm as you, and still, very welcome. 
you've grown almost fond of this man you're cuddling with. 
"hey," he says after a minute has passed and you've ceased your complaining.
"hmm?" 
"why didn't you call me?" 
you open an eye, staring up at him. "what?" 
"i would've gotten some more meds," he says. "if you'd called. why didn't you tell me you were sick?" 
"you were working." 
peter traces a fingertip down your hairline, creating a trail of goosebumps on your arm. 
"that's okay. i wouldn't have minded." 
"i didn't want to bug you." 
peter laughs, vibration moving both of you. he uses a hand to tilt your chin up. just so that you'll look at him. "bug," he says, stern and soft at the same time. 
you blink innocently at him. 
"i want you to call me," his eyes are wide, and soft and brown. "if there's something wrong." 
"i just had a headache," you answer back, allowing him to play with the skin on your neck. "that's all." 
"i want you to call me. so i know you're alright. and so i can stop at the pharmacy and make a big deal about how my baby is sick and i need nothing but the best--" 
"peter," you giggle, laughing when his nose tickles your skin. 
"you have to promise," he says, "or i'll--" he digs a finger into your side, tickling and torturing you. 
"okay!" you say, trying to pull away from him. "okay i promise--peter!" 
"you promise?" 
"yes, yes. i'll call," you say, just a little bit breathless. 
peter lets go, leaning back again and pulling you with him. "good." 
*
my masterlist here.
tags:@moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah @localrockstargf  @thestudiouswanderer @take-my-hand-time-boy @thoughtsofagodlovingsunflower @nyomjoon  @moo-b1tch @raindropstearsandtea @rqmanoff @hollandweather @wetcoldnoodle @urlocalavenderhazestan @valvlry @imthatcoolmom @spideysimpossiblegirl​
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Sunflower Sorrow - A Hanahaki Tale
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A/N: Writing this almost drove me insane. Like the banging your head against a laptop praying to the inspiration gods for a sign that you haven't made a mistake kind of insane.
Thank you so much @actuallysaiyan for making the pretty banner! And for reading my drafts and reassuring me multiple times that the story wasn't garbage.
All original artwork is credited at the bottom of the post.
Pairing: Higuruma x Fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, mentions of pain and death, PIV sex, clitoral and vaginal fingering, oral (fem receiving),
Summary: The reader finds herself infested with Hanahaki, right at the cusp of beginning to date her long time crush.
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Your eyes open blearily against the sunlight pouring in, feeling like you’d much rather stay in bed than anything else. There’s a strange feeling in your body, almost like you’re about to come down with the flu, your chest feeling tight, and your throat feeling dry. Which is strange because you were fine when you went to bed. 
You groan as you roll over under the covers. Now was not the time to be getting sick. You wonder if you’re even well enough to go to work. Almost instinctively, your hand reaches for your phone, squinting against the backlight as you check your messages. A smile graces your face as you see a text from the man you had been out with last night.
I know this was just our second date, but I’m already thinking about a third. I’ve enjoyed our time together recently and would like to see you again. I guess get back to me? Oh, and I hope kissing you good night was appropriate. 😅
“Hiromi,” you mumble under your breath, feeling a rush of happiness flow through you as you read his text. The man was incredibly sweet and transparent and you loved that about him. Dating in your thirties was hard but he had given off some very positive signals over these last two dates and you couldn’t help but want to set up a third one quickly. You liked being around him, he was laid back and almost goofy, traits that most men seemed to lose at a certain age. Maybe if you recovered from this flu fast enough you can meet up with him over the weekend. 
I’d love that. I’m a little under the weather right now but if I’m feeling better by the weekend we can make plans? I’d like to see you again too. And yes, the kiss good night was totally appropriate. 😊
You text him back, heart fluttering as you hit send. You’re glad you had finally bitten the bullet and asked him out. There were signs of interest, but you had been secretly admiring him from afar for the better part of a year now. He was very gentlemanly, opening doors, asking if he could hold your hand, and checking in on your comfort while you were with him. A lawyer turned sorcerer, he talked passionately about his past cases and the interesting events that sparked his path into Jujutsu. On the first date, the both of you had been so wrapped up in conversation it took the poor waiter a minute to get a word in edgewise to ask if either of you had wanted another glass of wine. 
He was so impossibly handsome, the thick black hair and rich mahogany eyes, that crooked smile that came onto his face when he was amused by something. It was a wonder how he was still single. Just passing by him in the hallways made your heart pound, so sure that his greetings to you were just platonic and nothing more. There were so many other talented people in this institution, that you didn’t possibly think he could have any interest in you, convincing yourself those brief glances he gave you were imagined. 
But after last night’s kiss…so soft and patient, the lingering of lips, his large hands resting courteously on the small of your back, resting his forehead on yours, unwilling to let you go. Your hand had gripped the lapel of his coat, his scent flooding your senses, something woody and spicy that made you want to bury your face into his neck. Sure it’s only been two dates, but you couldn’t help but imagine what your life could be like with him. It felt like a guilty pleasure admitting it to yourself, but it wasn’t hurting anybody. It’s not like you were clawing at his door begging to move in with him. You were just really attracted to him, smitten, perhaps was the right word. 
A small ding from your phone shows a response from him. 
I’m sorry you’re not well. Yes, please get better soon, and let’s plan something for the weekend. I totally wasn’t waiting for your text by the way. You just happened to catch me on a break. 😉And I’m glad the kiss was appropriate. 
His text makes you giggle. How could someone be this adorable? The lucidity of his intentions was refreshing, with no awkward back and forth of painfully crafted messages trying to sound casual. He was making his interest plain, making it easier for you to let down the wariness of sounding too eager. It was a pleasant change of pace compared to some of the other dates you had been on. You hoped this would go somewhere. You wanted it to go somewhere…
A sudden coughing fit overtakes you, racking your body as you feel something come up your throat. You reach for a tissue from your nightstand…and then look dumbstruck at what falls into it. 
You stare at the yellow flower petals, each about an inch long, covered in pale pink mucus. A feeling of dread and anxiety fills you and you crumple the tissue, trying not to think about what you just saw. Your brain races. What could it be? Cancer? Was there a cancer that made your insides turn into tapered flower petals? Or maybe those weren’t flower petals but a tissue of some sort? The feeling of tightness in your chest gets worse. Maybe a visit to the doctor’s wasn’t a bad idea.
**✿❀○❀✿**
Shoko places your X-rays against the lightboard and frowns. You’re no medical expert but even you can see what the problem was. You stare at them with morbid curiosity. 
“Are those…?”
“Sunflowers, it looks like,” Shoko confirms, the large circular flowerheads unmistakable. “And they’re growing very fast. Your lungs will burst if they keep up at this rate.” She throws away her gloves and looks thoughtful.
“It’s strange how recently a lot of Hanahaki cases have popped up. We had Nanami in here a few weeks ago with the same thing.”
“And Nanami is in perfect health,” you interject, hoping Shoko is about to tell you a cure. “What is it? A pill? Surgery?” 
Shoko purses her lips and then faces you. “Hanahaki can be removed surgically. However, you’ll lose whatever feelings you have for the person that caused it.”
Feeling like you’d been doused with a bucket of ice water, all you could say was, “Oh.”
“But you’re dating Higuruma, aren't you?” Shoko asks. 
“It’s only been 2 dates,” you admit. “But it’s going well.”
Shoko’s expression remains impassive but she continues in a gentle voice. “But it’s obvious you’ve wanted him for much longer than that. The size of these flowers…How long have you loved him?”
Your chest tightens uncomfortably, this time not just from the flowers. “Who said anything about loving him?”
“The flowers don’t grow unless it’s love. But it looks like they were growing slowly and then when you started dating, your feelings intensified and caused them to bloom faster. Hanahaki rates vary from person to person depending on the level of emotions involved.” 
A nervous ripple passes through your body at the thought. You remembered the way you had yearned for him after the kiss but were worried about scaring him off. Who confessed their love for someone on a second date? 
“Is there any way to slow it down?”
Shoko shakes her head no. “The only thing that helps is when they return your feelings. Romantically.” 
“I see.” There’s a moment of silence before you double over as another coughing fit grips you, a blob of red and yellow falling into your hands along with a few black and white sunflower seeds.
“Couldn’t you just tell him?” Shoko helps you get up to the sink in the examination room. You wash your hands and spit out the flower petals that are stuck in your gums. “I mean, he wouldn’t be dating you if he wasn’t interested.”
“You don’t tell a guy you love him after two dates!” You wipe your mouth and grip the counter trying to think. You glance at the X-ray, wondering.
“How long do I have?”
“It’ll worsen over the next few weeks now that the plants have started to bloom. Beyond that…it’s difficult to say. The more time you spend with him and he doesn’t say he loves you, it’ll only accelerate the process. You’ll feel little moments of relief, followed by an even stronger relapse.”
For the first time since this morning, you felt genuine fear. What if Hiromi didn’t feel more for you? What if after a few more dates he decided you weren’t what he was looking for? Were your only choices waiting for him to love you back or to have your feelings surgically removed?
“Am I going to die from this?” The words leave your throat in a whisper. Shoko flinches and appears to struggle with how to word her response. 
“I hope not. I hope for your sake he does feel the same way.” Shoko hesitates before continuing. “I don’t want to alarm you but…if it truly becomes critical, have you considered having a plan of action?”
A tense silence passes between you both as you weigh her words. “I hadn’t. But…” You consider the words. “Is it worth dying for love, Shoko?”
“I can’t answer that for you. I can only say that I don’t wish to see you suffer.” 
You drop down into one of the chairs, covering your face with your hands, trying not to cry. You had never wanted anyone quite in this way, trying to brush it off as a crush but the feelings never went away, always persistent, weighing down on your thoughts at all times of the day. You remember the tender way he’d looked at you after the kiss, brushing strands of hair behind your ears, gently drawing you against his chest, a cozy moment. He certainly seemed to be fine with the pace things were going at and hadn’t asked if he could come in like some men had after such a short time. 
“Is there any chance that he’d…love me back in that way?” 
“If he harbors those kinds of feelings for you then yes. But given that the window is narrowing, the sooner, the better.”
But what if…
Your mind resolves, and you sigh, finalizing on a decision. “Shoko.”
She looks at you curiously, hearing the change in your voice. Yes? 
“I want to live no matter what.” Your hands ball into fists and although the notion makes your heart clench, you tell her your decision. “If my health declines, I want to be kept alive with special medical intervention. But if it gets to a point where the Hanahaki is going to be fatal to me… Please surgically remove it.”
Shoko looks at you surprised. “Really?” 
“Really. Don't leave it up to chance.” You rub your eyes wearily. It felt like a cruel joke, longing for Hiromi for so long, then when you finally started dating it ended up triggering the Hanahaki at a faster rate. “I may love him but…I mean I have a life too. If it gets that bad… it would imply he doesn't feel that way…and he may never feel that way. It may sound selfish but… I want to live.” 
“I get it. You don't have to explain to me.” Shoko pats your shoulder. “But considering your life is on the line maybe don't hold back in showing him how much you love him?” 
You laugh humorlessly. “How many men do you know who respond well to a woman saying she loves them after 2 dates?” 
Shoko sighs. “Fair enough. I wish you luck.”
 **✿❀○❀✿**
You hadn't set the third date. After the intense conversation with Shoko, you just felt like you needed to be by yourself. 
The bed felt so comforting but sleep eluded you as the coughing worsened, shaking your whole being. You got up countless times to clean yourself in between and finally having had enough, dragged yourself out of bed to grab a pot from the kitchen, heaving into it, watching with horror as it filled. After 24 hours, it had progressed from seeds and petals into partial flower fragments, bunches of petals stuck to a portion of the flower head falling out of your mouth. 
Your head throbbed, feeling like it could burst. Almost self-pityingly you think about what life would be like if you hadn’t asked him out. Eventually, it would have made no difference, the Hanahaki would’ve grown despite that, you muse to yourself, feeling the scrape of stems and roots embedding their way into your organs. How did things change so fast? You were fine and one kiss later…
Your phone buzzes, and you barely manage to pick it up, looking at it with one eye open, your pulse racing as you see his name. 
How are you feeling? Still sick? 🥺
A smidgen of relief is felt in your chest, surprising you, as you take in a breath that hurts just a little less. He was checking in on you. Would a man do that if he wasn’t interested? Was there hope that he may feel more for you? You try to calm your wandering thoughts, knowing it wouldn’t do you any good to imagine things that he hadn’t explicitly stated. 
Unfortunately 😔 I'm sorry but I don't think we can make that third date this weekend. Rain check? I hope work was good today. 
Ding. 
Work was fine. Yes, we can certainly hold off until you feel better. 
Before you can reply he sends another message. 
Do you need anything? I wouldn't want you to struggle while you're sick. 
Butterflies flutter amongst the blooms in your chest. You did want to see him, but Shoko’s words come back to you, about how spending time with him without any promise of returning your feelings could worsen things even more. Additionally, the state you were in made you want to immediately decline the offer. You didn’t want him to see you like this, pale, hacking up bloody mucus flowers, pining for him like a lovesick dog. You grip your phone wondering how to reply, then carefully word your text.
I think I’m ok. Besides you don’t want to see me sick. Not a pretty picture.
Ding.
I’m sure I’ve seen worse. But I promise not to run away screaming. 😄  What do you say? 
Despite it all you laugh, noting with wonder how you didn’t feel as bad as you did a minute ago. 
Ok, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. 💀
Ding.
Noted! I’m bringing soup! See you in 30. 
30?! You scramble up suddenly, then hang over the edge of the bed as more flower bits force their way up your throat, falling into the grotesque potpourri pooling into the cooking pot. With as much speed as your exhausted body offers, you dump the flower vomit into the toilet, quickly rinse the pot in the kitchen, and throw together an outfit appropriate for company. You add a little blush to your cheeks and some lipstick to remedy the pale sickly quality that your skin has become. 
You’re jittery when the doorbell rings. Taking a deep breath, you open the door, revealing Higuruma, looking so casual in jeans and a tee rather than the suit he wore to work. He was carrying a bag and there’s a slight twitch to his lips as he looks at you. 
“I’m disappointed,” he says good-naturedly, stepping inside. “Where’s the horrifying red nose and dripping snot? The messy hair and phlegm-covered tissues? At least tell me you have those droopy eye bags?”
“They’re hidden with concealer,” you admit, biting your lip to avoid smiling goofily at his presence. You feel a strange sensation in your body, almost like the parasitic flowers were retracting to allow their host to breathe a little before resuming their consumption of your flesh. 
“Concealer! The ultimate trick. Do you think I should wear some? Look at these.” He points to the just visible bags under his eyes and you give up, laughing heartily, the growing blooms inside you only slightly painful. 
Higuruma grins at you. “Well, they do say laughter is the best medicine. However, soup, as promised,” he says, brandishing the bag, “And decongestants, and a little dark chocolate. Because it’s the best.”
You take the bag from him trying not to blush. “Thank you, Hiromi. You didn’t have to come over. I appreciate it so much.” 
“Aw, it’s no trouble. Besides you don’t let people you like suffer. Well not alone anyway.”
Your heart constricts in your chest as he says he likes you but you try to play it cool, leaves and petals stirring in your heart and lungs. “Oh? Wasn’t aware you liked me.” You try to sound nonchalant as you say it, but secretly hope he’ll say a little more, something more concrete which would imply there’s something stronger between you two. Something that might take away this dreadful thing growing inside you…
“Really?” He widens his eyes playfully and covers his mouth pretending to be shocked. “Oh no! All my efforts have gone in vain!” He drawls dramatically. “What good is bringing someone soup if they’re unaware you like them?”
You place the bag on the kitchen counter and cover your mouth as an unruly snort of laughter leaves you, which you use to hide the twinge of disappointment you feel. Well, at least he didn’t deny that he likes you. That was a start, and it could progress from there, in a best-case scenario. 
Your chest contracts suddenly and you quickly grab a napkin and stand at the kitchen sink, coughing up more foliage, trying to be discreet, attempting to soften your coughing as the fragmented sunflowers fall out of your mouth. Higuruma walks into the kitchen at the noise and you hide the napkin in your hands, wiping your mouth. 
Unlike before his face is lined with concern, and he waits for you to turn around. You try to smile reassuringly, your lipstick smudging from wiping your mouth.
“You don’t have to hide being sick in front of me you know,” he says softly. “We’re both adults. What’s life without a little mucus?” 
You throw away the napkin and shake your head. “We only just started seeing each other. Helping someone when they’re sick is more of a sixth date thing.”
Higuruma contemplates your words, leaning his hip against the counter. “Well, we’ve worked at the same place for a year. So that plus two dates…I think it comes close. Your lipstick is smudged by the way,” he adds, tapping his upper lip to indicate where you should clean it. 
You wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, like you’re still pretty even when you’re hacking up blood, literally dying from how much you love him. You hastily swipe a finger over the color, and when he doesn’t comment further, you assume it’s gone. 
“Well…thanks.” You take out a bowl to pour some soup. “Do you also want some?” you offer him.
He shakes his head no. “Here let me.”
His large hand takes the bowl from you while the other picks up the takeout container and he deftly pours steaming chicken noodle soup into it. “I can bring it outside for you. C'mon, sick person’s privilege.”
It was odd being ordered around in your kitchen, even if it was in this endearing manner. You shake your head. “You and your chivalry code.”
“I thought women loved it when men waited on them like this! Maybe I should double-check Reddit.”
How did he manage to do this to you? Your stomach is doing flips and it feels like for a brief second, the Hanahaki has frozen, allowing you a moment of clarity. Being near him was like not knowing your head was underwater until you took in that first gasp of air and felt it expand in your lungs, life flowing back into your veins. 
You settle on the couch and accept the bowl from him. He sits down on the opposite end, crossing a leg over his knee, and turns to look at you. 
“I think the remote’s on your end. Feel free to put on anything.”
“Anything? What a treat. I had come fully prepared with a list of rom-coms but I’m glad I can put on anything.”
You roll your eyes as you swallow the hot soup, savoring how it slides down your throat. “Rom coms? Why?”
“Isn’t that the default for when you’re sick?”
“Is that the default when you’re sick?” You probe him teasingly, noting how you don’t feel the irritating brush of the flowers as much as before. It almost felt easier to breathe with him around. 
Sheepish, Higuruma grins at you and rakes a hand through his hair. “It might be. It’s too early to reveal my secrets.”
“Oh? And when would it be appropriate?”
“After a third date.”
You glance at him, spoon halfway to your lips. He hastily adds, “After you’re feeling better of course!”
You busy yourself with the bowl to hide the blush that was threatening to make itself visible and swallow zealously. As mentioned, he puts on a rom-com and you finish the soup, feeling warm and cozy. You’re wrapped in a blanket and Higuruma has remained politely at the opposite end but as he sees your eyes beginning to droop he offers his shoulder.
“No, it’s ok…I’m fine here…” You mumble, trying to focus on the movie but the Hanahaki is beginning to take a toll on your body. 
“It’s all right y/n. I guarantee I’m comfier than a couch cushion.” Seeing your hesitation he chuckles. “I promise to behave. Just…c’mere. I wasn’t joking when I said people shouldn’t suffer alone.” 
He scoots over to the middle and helps you tip over slightly, placing an arm around you as the side of your cheek rests on his shoulder. The effect was instantly soporific. You couldn’t believe it. He was here…and yet so far away. You struggle to remind yourself that nothing was solid, that this was all still in the beginning stages, and that plenty could go wrong.
But the yearning is stronger and you let yourself indulge for a brief moment before your brain switches from consciousness to sleep. Hiromi, warm, gentle, sweet Hiromi, here, next to you, on your sofa in your living room. Letting you use him as a pillow. It was like plucking a private daydream from your brain and shaping it into reality.
If you could disperse the little moments like this…could you possibly slow down the Hanahaki enough that you could date him a little longer until it was appropriate to tell him you loved him? And perhaps when you did…he would say it back? 
 You smelled that familiar scent of wood and spice, memories of the kiss lulling you to sleep. His hand rubs the side of your blanket-covered arm, steady and comforting.
“You smell nice,” you mutter almost imperceptibly but he hears it and his heart skips a beat. 
“I’m glad you think so.”
**✿❀○❀✿**
Monitors beep and there’s an IV in your arm. Shoko peers anxiously into your face as you come back to reality. Things had taken a turn for the worse. You had been floating in and out of consciousness for the past few days. 
“I need to know everything that happened. I’m sorry, I know you don’t feel like talking.” Shoko helps you sit upright in the hospital bed and hands you a glass of water which you sip weakly. “But I need to figure out when I should start the special interventions you mentioned. I have all the labs. But I need to know where you are emotionally if I have to make a call about surgical intervention next.”
You take a few breaths of oxygen from the mask in your hand before steadying yourself to speak. Every inch of you hurt. Your body prickled as you tried to suck in a breath, your mouth dry and your words raspy. Living was simply draining right now. 
“Four days ago, Hiromi visited me at home. He wasn’t aware of how sick I was. And I didn’t tell him.”
Shoko’s eyes narrow. “Why?”
You shake your head wearily. “It just didn’t feel right. He put me to sleep. When I woke up, I was laid out on the couch and Hiromi was gone. I felt a lot better and got myself to bed. Then the next day, I was in pain. So much pain. It felt like one of my lungs had burst. Like a million thorns were scratching the inside of my heart and throat. That’s when I called you.”
Shoko paces back and forth as she ponders on what the next best step would be, looking exasperated. “Y/n. I told you that being with him in this unrequited manner will only cause the Hanahaki to spread faster. You should have said no to him coming over. The closeness and then his absence, plus the lack of admission of any romantic feelings made it grow alarmingly. Your heart and lungs are almost purely plant now.”
You lay back against the pillows, taking the most shallow breaths possible to alleviate any further discomfort. “How long? Before…?”
Shoko sighs deeply. “I will have to do the surgery tomorrow.”
You had known deep down that she wouldn’t have any better news. Tears fill your eyes as you stare at the ceiling, dripping down your cheeks and onto the pillow. Your voice quivers are you talk. 
“Wow…I really thought…I had more time than that. I thought…we’d go on a third date. Maybe a fourth. And by the fifth or sixth, enough time would have passed that it wouldn’t be weird if I said it.” You press your hands over your eyes and a sob passes from your lips. “I really wanted it to be him Shoko. My end game. I guess…it wasn’t meant to be huh?” 
Shoko pats your arm sympathetically. “It’s not that you won’t ever fall in love again. It just won’t be with him.”
“Ah, but that’s the thing Shoko. Would anything else feel the way this feels?” You let yourself think back on every little interaction you ever had with Higuruma. Every tiny second where the two of you had been in the same room, or just passed by each other at work. The way his eyes danced as he laughed, little crow’s feet forming at the corners. And the fact that you’ll never find out if rom-coms were his go-to when he was sick. It was so bittersweet, to be so close yet so far to the addictive idea of almost knowing what it would be like to be loved by him, yet too late to escape the effects of the Hanahaki. 
“Can you find him for me Shoko? I just…need to see him one last time. Before…you know.”
Shoko’s eyes are contemplative, but she nods. “Let me see if he’s on campus.”
“And Shoko?”
She already knows what you’re about to say but listens anyway.
“Please don’t tell him anything. The last thing I need is him pitying me.”
**✿❀○❀✿**
Higuruma checks his phone and can’t hide his disappointment when he sees you haven’t replied to his last few texts. He’d been careful not to wake you when he laid you down on the sofa and quietly crept out that night. He’d been sure to text you to let you know you hadn’t been abandoned, but that he didn’t want to encroach on your boundaries and was looking forward to seeing you again. That was 4 days ago. Had he made things awkward without realizing it? Had you ghosted him?
He told himself it couldn’t possibly be a simple case of ghosting because you hadn’t been coming into work either. He was positive he hadn’t misread the signs. You were comfortable and relaxed around him. There was no reason for you to avoid him. Had your illness worsened? The ideas turn over and over in his head as he wanders the halls of the vast Jujustu High campus, then comes out of his reverie as someone calls his name.
“Oh! Shoko, hi.” He greets the brunette as she approaches him. Her expression looks tight as she nears, and she seems unsure of what to say. 
Shoko knows she’s obligated to hold her silence, but in this case, she can’t bring herself to do it. “Can we find a place to sit down? There’s a lot that needs to be said and I’m not sure there’s a lot of time left.”
“Time left? For what? Is this about y/n?” Higuruma feels uneasy but allows Shoko to direct him toward a bench in the well-maintained courtyard. 
Shoko does her best to explain everything concisely; the origin of the Hanahaki, its unexpected acceleration, and how you would be heading into surgery tomorrow to get it removed. Higuruma listens quietly but it’s clear from his expressions and the way they turn to shock and horror as Shoko describes it that he’s feeling this on a personal level.
“Unrequited love eh?” He runs a hand over the back of his neck and takes a deep breath. “Who would’ve thought?” Higuruma mulls this over in his head. Was there someone else he wasn’t aware of? He shouldn’t be surprised. You were so beautiful after all, and with your Jujutsu talents, courage, and principles, it wasn’t that much of a shock. It couldn’t be him…he was new to everything, needing help, always feeling like he was one step short. He looks to Shoko, needing confirmation. “And do we know who the mystery man is?” 
Shoko looks at him pointedly and he frowns for a second thinking. “What? Is it someone I know? Am I supposed to pass on a message?”
Shoko impatiently tapped her foot against the ground, biting her inner cheek, her expression almost becoming a glare as she prayed he’d have the epiphany soon. 
A lick of irritation passes through him. “Shoko, trust me when I say I want her to live. I'm dating her right now, but if there’s someone else that she needs to be well, I’m not selfish enough to stand in the way of that.” His heart clenches at the thought but if it was a matter of life and death, he couldn’t deny you that. 
To him, you were the moon, the lovely, elegant, marker in his sky, and he was the ocean, hopelessly drawn by your gravity, yet never getting close enough to grasp you and make you his own, waves crashing down into salt and foam after each failed attempt. 
Feeling like she might burst, Shoko begrudgingly gives him another clue. “There’s no other man.”
“There isn’t? Then…” He’s silent as the meaning of her words suddenly dawns on him, making him blush. The realization is stunning. “You’re kidding.” 
“I wish I was. But it’s always been you. Now let me make this very clear. If you do not have any feelings for her that are equal to romantic love, then there’s nothing else that can be done. I’ll take her to surgery and remove all of it. She deserves to live.”
He falls silent as her words wash over him. “And that…would take away everything right?”
“It will. She’ll forget everything. All those times she felt her heartbeat quicken when she saw you. The dates you had. You bringing her soup. She’ll forget and her feelings will become purely platonic.” She looks at him appraisingly and waits for an answer. 
“I…” The words catch in his throat and he feels an unbearable guilt wash over him. He was responsible for putting you in this state. It was his fault you were now hovering between life and death. He presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose and takes a calming breath. Nothing about him was steady at the moment. He was a knot of nerves, worried for your safety. 
“I do love her,” he admits. “For the longest time. It’s just…you can’t blurt out things like that. Scares people off.”
“So I’ve heard,” Shoko says, trying not to sound sarcastic. “But you were dating her. That must mean that you have feelings for her.”
“Who says ‘I love you’ to someone after 2 dates?”
Shoko’s eye twitches menacingly and Higuruma leans away, looking slightly apprehensive at the expression. “What is it?”
“Nothing just that you two…are very similar.” She sighs, massaging her temples. 
“So, what do I have to do now?” Higuruma looks at her helplessly. “I don’t want to be the reason she’s suffering. If I tell her I love her, that’s it? The Hanahaki fades? Because I’ll do it. I’ll tell her over and over. Anything to make it right.”
“That would certainly help but the state that she’s in…verbally making your feelings known would still require her to remain in the hospital for a few weeks.” 
“What else can I do?” Higuruma looks at Shoko with sincerity. “Whatever she needs, I’ll do it.”
Shoko clears her throat wondering how to put forth the matter. “Well, while the verbal affirmations would ease her discomfort, physical love would definitely speed up her recovery.”
“So hugs? Kisses? I held her on the sofa while she slept. I can do that again, I’ll cuddle her until she feels better.”
Shoko lets out a sigh, wondering how much more explicit she would need to get. “We are very much short on time, so let me ask you this. What’s the usual culmination of romantic love?”
“What? The culmination of romantic love? It’s…it’s…OH.” His eyes widen as the realization washes over him, turning his face a brilliant shade of crimson. “Doesn’t that cross a line? We’ve only ever kissed, and it was only once.”
“I’m sure she won’t mind if it saves her life. Besides, I can’t imagine her denying it if it’s you.”
“Ah, thanks?” he says uncertainly, not sure if it’s a compliment. Still flustered, he rakes his hands through his hair, trying not to feel embarrassed. Under normal circumstances, he would’ve loved this. To make love to someone as gorgeous as you? It would’ve been a privilege. But the added complication of you being sick added a layer of uncertainty. But he knew he’d have to figure it out.
Feeling like she’s finally gotten through to him, Shoko smiles at him softly. “Just…let yourself love her naturally. It’ll fall into place. You’ll figure it out.” She pats his shoulder reassuringly. “Think you can take some time off? Stay at home with her?”
He nods, feeling his resolve strengthen. “Of course.”
**✿❀○❀✿**
The hands that carry you are warm, large, and gentle. Was this it? Were they taking you to surgery? Shoko had given you something strong for the pain. Had she found Hiromi? You couldn’t recollect talking to him. Maybe he was out while you were hospitalized. Well, so much for that…
It was all going to be over soon. Shoko would extract the Hanahaki from your body and the next time you saw Higuruma, you wouldn’t feel a thing. Life really was cruel. 
But something felt different. Instead of being moved to a cold surgical platform, you felt yourself being placed onto a soft bed, the familiar smell of fabric softener surrounding you. Were you home? Was the surgery already over? 
A presence lays down next to you, gently drawing you closer, and as you inhale, you recognize the fragrance of woody spice. Hiromi was here? How? Were you dreaming? That must be it. You were post-op and experiencing whatever pleasant sensation the anesthesia gave you until you woke up. 
You feel your face being caressed, your hair brushed away, being pressed tightly against his chest as his lips skim across your temple. 
“Y/n. I’m so sorry.” His voice sounds regretful. “I guess…I was an idiot. I was so unsure about how you felt, when in fact, it was quite obvious. And I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t want more. Because baby, the things I feel when you’re near me. They take my breath away. I thought the worst thing that could happen was that you would decide you didn’t want to see me anymore. I was wrong.” 
His embrace tightens, and he adjusts so that your head rests on the crook of his neck, your breath falling sweetly on his skin. “The worst thing is seeing you like this, knowing I put you in this state. Why has society made dating so hard? Why are we shamed for feeling things too soon? Or too late? I think it should be different depending on the people involved. Some people feel it early. Others feel it down the line. I guess I’m one of the former. I just know.”
He kisses your forehead, and when he speaks next, there’s a crack in his voice, raw emotion coming through. “I love you. Always have from the moment I first started as a sorcerer. You leave me in awe. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. I love you, y/n. I love you so much.”
You stir slightly, listening intently. Did he just…?
“You have to get better. Remember how on the first date, you told me that you’d love to visit Paris someday? We’ll go. Just us. After you’re well. I don’t care what society deems normal anymore. We’ll go on our third date. Because you deserve it. Because I love you.”
His words permeate your body, a curious sensation because it feels like they entered your bloodstream, and were being absorbed into your heart. The tightness of the root system embedded into your veins withdraws, and you feel your breath becoming less labored.
“Please wake up darling. You have to wake up.” 
He presses his lips against yours, full of tenderness and passion, and when he pulls away, he sees color coming into the previously pale and chapped lips. He kisses you again, and it’s bliss, his hands combing through your hair, stroking your back, and you take in a deep breath, the relief feeling ecstatic, your blood humming in your veins, almost purifyingly. Compelled to react, you move your lips gently, feel him still and pull away incredulously, and look down at your face.
“Y/n?” There’s so much relief on his face as he looks at you, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks.
‘Hey,” you manage to rasp, feeling that same purifying sensation, like the flowers in your body were contracting ever so slightly, making room for you to breathe. 
Higuruma lets out a soft laugh, then rests his forehead on yours. “Oh my…you’re awake. You’re going to make it darling, don’t worry.”
“Do you really love me?”
“I do. So much. I don’t know since when. I just knew I did.”
The fortifying effect of those words brings back strength into your body and you raise your arms, wrapping them around his neck. 
“Hiromi. You have no idea how happy I am that you’re here.”
“Oh I think I have you beat there darling,” he says weakly, nuzzling your neck. “I wasn’t sure when you’d wake up.”
He kisses you again, slow and gentle and your mouth opens to accept his tongue, reveling in the taste, feeling every inch of your body respond to his touch. His hands roam under the back of the thin T-shirt you’re wearing, anchoring themselves onto your shoulders, inhaling your scent as he tries to breathe through it all. He strings a line of soft kisses from your jaw down your neck, stopping to savor the way your pulse felt as it beat with vitality inside you, before coming down to your collarbone. A gasp leaves your lips, fingers tangling with his hair as he does so. 
The noise brings his attention back to you, unaware of the desire pooling into your veins where the flowers were starting to withdraw. Your cheeks had a healthy glow, a flush settling into them as he pulled you against him. 
“Are you ok with this?” He asks, his fingers tracing circles on the back of your neck, waiting for a response. 
“I am. More than ok. Just…don’t stop now. I need this.” You lean up and kiss him, electricity sparking between the both of you. “I need you.”
Hearing you needed him switches something on in him and he groans against the passion of your kiss before burying his face in your neck, nibbling the soft flesh, listening to the flow of breath running through you. His hands sneak up under the front of your shirt and rest against your breasts, letting the heat flow into them, feeling your nipples perk up against his palms before he squeezes, his mouth leaving wet kisses between the crook of your neck and shoulder. 
“Please…” you whisper into his ear, the word spoken with so much urgency that he almost loses control. He finds the hem of your shirt and pulls it off, taking in the sight of your lovely body, the pebbled nipples ripe for sampling. He pulls one into his mouth, causing a quiet moan to leave you, and begins to tease the other, rolling it between his thumb and index, listening to your cues as he increases the friction and pressure.
You feel like you're on a cloud, pleasure tingling into every crevice of your body, sighing, losing all other thoughts except for the man in your bed. “Hiromi,” you call his name in a breathy tone, cradling his head as he suckles, heat gathering between your legs. How long had it been since you were touched in this way? Held like you were precious, kissed like you were ambrosia?
Hiromi observes the way color comes back to your body as he teases you, watching with mild fascination as the pert nipple between his fingers changes color, life coming back into you. 
Your eyes close against the gentle ministrations of his tongue and fingers, the moans becoming whimpers as need takes over. When he finally lets go the need for more contact with his skin was overwhelming. You fist the fabric of his top and pull it off, and he allows it without any questions. Your eyes roam over the broad, tanned chest, the cloud of black hair on his chest leading into a thready trail that crawled lower like a lion’s mane, hidden by the waistband of his jeans. For a moment you stare, drinking in the sheer masculinity of it all, the hard planes and defined muscles, contrasting against the softness of your body. 
Almost shyly you run your fingers through the patch of hair before coming down to place a kiss between his collarbones, hear his breath strangle before continuing down, feeling all the muscles in his abdomen tense up as your lips follow the happy trail, delighting in the way he reacted when you nibbled around his bellybutton.
“Y/n you’re making me crazy.” he grits his teeth, struggling to keep a hold on his sanity. You had just recovered, he shouldn’t be rash or grab you but you were making it very hard to ignore the rush of want pouring into his bloodstream. It was so surprising how these acts of love, even briefly, had brought you back from the edge. 
He slides you back up, sees the vitality glittering in your eyes, and crushes his mouth to yours, letting his body speak for him as he runs a hand down your smooth skin, pausing to knead the soft squish of your belly, his hand slipping under the band of your shorts and underwear, bringing them down to reveal the curve of your ass which he grabs possessively, savoring the fat, pushing your lower body against his throbbing erection. He slowly grinds against you, paying attention to your body but you aren’t pulling away from him, rather, it appears to make you crave more, the way your hands fumble at his back, holding on to his shoulders and pressing your face into his chest.
Hiromi’s hands move to your front, repeating the action of pulling the waistbands down, exposing you to his hands. As he slides your clothing off, your legs part for him unashamedly, the throbbing in your sex unbearable, feeling your chest becoming free of the previous pressure that was suffocating it. Grasping your mound in his large palm, he feels for the edge of the swollen labia and massages, grasping the moistening flesh between his fingers and applying pressure, causing you to arch against his hand, the noises you make music to his ears. 
He gently parts the folds of your sex, seeing the slick from your arousal gathering at the entrance of your core, begging to be touched. He looks back up at you and you nod, the small sign of consent all he needed before he plunges his tongue into the most heat of your cunt. The knowledge of knowing he was here at such a sensitive spot on your body sends a thrill through him and he licks up, finding the base of your swollen clit, letting his tongue flick against it, satisfaction flowing through him as you hum your pleasure at the action. Laying his tongue flat, he slides up and down, unfazed when you move against him, trying to build a little more friction. 
He lets his middle finger circle the entrance of your pussy, teasing until you raise your hips slightly before sliding in, the digit feeling so wonderfully filling, curling upwards to find the little patch inside you that makes you take a sharp breath before becoming so wonderfully pliant and soft under him. He inserts his ring finger, and your sighs become a crescendo of gasps and moans, writhing under him, holding the pillow to remain grounded as the ache in your core becomes unbearably sweet, blossoming from the center and filling your body with a thrum of pleasure.
You sob as the orgasm hits, all the muscles in your body contracting before pleasurably spasming, your cries becoming shrill as it passes, feel Hiromi’s tongue slow down and continue to nudge against your clit, ensuring he squeezed out every drop of pleasure from you before pulling away from your core.
You’re a sight to see after that, body rosy and flushed, a fresh vigor visible all over, hair messy and splayed across the pillow. 
“Y/n…you’re so beautiful,” he rasps as he crawls back up to you, licking your juices off his fingers before covering your mouth with his. Shivering from the climax, you taste yourself on his tongue, gripping the back of his neck as though afraid he might slip between your fingers if you didn’t hold onto him hard enough. 
“Do you…ahem…” He suddenly turns shy but powers through. “Do you happen to have condoms? I kind of…forgot...you know with everything that happened.”
Your lips quirk and a peal of laughter leaves you, and he joins in, smiling, cupping your face tenderly in his hands. “Top drawer,” you answer him. “You went to the drugstore a couple of days ago and bought decongestants, but not condoms?” you tease him. 
“Who knew I’d be having sex a few days later?”
“We were dating! It was bound to happen.”
“Oh really? So that’s what happens when people are dating?” he teases you back and it’s your turn to blush, but he’s being sweet about it, brushing your noses together, and pressing feather-light kisses all over your face. He slides off the bed to finish undressing, and you watch him, fascination all over your face as his cock slips free, long and veiny, leaking precum, throbbing with hot need. He fumbles through your nightstand before finding the little wrapped packet, rolling down the condom before joining you back in bed, cuddling you close. 
“Ready?” 
You nod, a look passing between you both, before he positions himself and starts entering, the push of his tip feeling exquisite, going inch by inch, giving you time to adjust to him, feeling your fingernails scratch his forearms as he starts to bottom out. He holds still, your eyes meeting, your mouth slightly open as your pussy involuntarily spasms around him, feeling wonderfully stretched out. 
He starts moving, hips rolling deliciously to set up a rhythm, leaning forward to kiss you as he does so, arching his back to ensure your G-spot wasn’t missed with each stroke. It was so artful the way he made love to you, your body so responsive to everything, and he gathered you in his arms, both of you looking into each other’s eyes. 
“I love you.” He buries his face into the crook of your neck and you lock your ankles around his waist, mewling as he thrusts into you. 
“I love you too,” you mumble, mind in a haze, feeling nothing but pleasure flowing through you. Your breathing has changed, no longer ragged and shallow but to a full-bodied draw of air, so refreshing as you both touch and caress each other.
Your body starts the familiar sensation of tension gathering in your belly, coiling, waiting for release. Misty-eyed, you look at him, knowing he’s been watching your face all this while, looking for cues. 
“I’m close…” you whisper, touching his cheek, tracing the outline of his lips as you move with him. 
“Let go for me…I’ve got you…” With a cry, your second orgasm grips you, more powerful than the first, and you barely manage to keep your legs locked around him. 
“Hiromi…Hiromi…” his name falls from your lips, and his movements become a little sloppy, feeling his own orgasm nearing, and not too soon, he falls off the edge, cock twitching inside you, as he rides out the wave of pleasure. 
It was the best sleep of your life afterward, wrapped up in Higuruma’s warm and secure embrace, cheek resting on his chest, and listening to each other’s heartbeats as you both dreamt.
When you wake up, it’s the middle of the night and Higuruma is awake, peering at you through the darkness.
“Go back to sleep,” he whispers, petting your hair. 
“I can’t, I have the distracting problem of having a handsome man in my bed.”
“Hmm…And this is a problem, how?”
“I want to keep looking at him. Makes for bad sleep.”
A deep chuckle leaves his throat as you cuddle against him. 
“So out of curiosity, if I wasn’t conscious by the time you started up, what would you have done?” You lean up to look at him, legs tangling under the covers.
“Oh, Shoko reassured me that kissing you would bring you around.”
“Yeah, but what if it hadn’t?” you press, curiosity building.
Higuruma makes a funny expression, like he’s weighing whether or not to divulge something to you. 
“What is it? C’mon, tell me!” You lightly slap his chest and he sighs, defeated.
“Well, Shoko gave me a letter of medical necessity.”
Your face turns blank. “She…what?”
Higuruma takes his phone and pulls up an official-looking email with an attachment. Trying not to laugh, he reads out, “I, Dr. Shoko Ieieri, hereby state, that in the event that F/n L/n is only partially conscious, or fully unconscious,  the giver of medical services, Mr. Hiromi Higuruma, has my complete medical consent to make physical love to the patient to ensure her life does not fall into jeopardy. This medical order shall remain in effect until F/n Y/n becomes fully conscious and capable of making her own decisions. See she signed it and everything.”
He tilts the phone screen so that you can see, and you cover your mouth as you try to stifle your laughter. “I can’t believe Shoko!”
“I’m sure she wrote it as a joke,” Higuruma says amusedly. “She was very confident that kissing would wake you up sufficiently.”
“Ugh, I can’t believe my doctor wrote a note advocating for sex to save my life.” You bury your face into his chest and the both of you laugh uncontrollably. 
“So is it a safe bet to assume we’re having another date?” he teases, pressing a kiss to your neck. 
“I’ll have to think about it. I’m joking!” you add hastily, seeing his expression grow stony. He sighs, dramatically shaking his head.
“Guess I better get used to this. Looks like it’s going to be part of my life for a long long time.”
He kisses you again before you can retort. You smile up at him, knowing he is yours. 
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shankschewtoy · 8 months
Note
Hey slayer. I've been violently ill lately and thought it be best to turn my misery into your profit, so here's a request for you. May I request the asl trio with an s/o that one night got really really sick?? Like I'm talking throwing up in the toilet, body shaking, feeling like you're going yo die type of thing. Thanks, have a great day and I hope you drink water 👋
a/n - nooo! I’m sorry about that anon :( I hope you feel better soon :) sorry in advance but I somehow make things cracky when they’re supposed to be serious 💀
warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, vomit, comfort
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- this guy hasn’t gotten sick once in his entire life, so he doesn’t know what the fuck to do when someone gets sick- (have you seen the way he tried to handle when nami got sick 😭)
- today, you already felt nauseous, sick to your stomach. The thought of eating made you want to throw yourself overboard-
- the rocking waves that shook the boat back and forth only contributed more- you weren’t even sure if this was your sickness, or sea sickness at this point
- maybe both?
- the toilet was your new bestie, the amount of times you threw up in there were countless
- chopper did his best with what meds he had- but nothing really eased the sickness. Your head just kept banging, dizzy from how many times you’ve thrown up
- your captain wasn’t sure what to do- he just kept frantically calling chopper over to see if you were ok.. He knew that maybe his funny antics weren’t going to help you right now
- “Sorry y/n… But I think this is just going to pass tomorrow, hang in there.” -chopper
- You were glad it wasn’t anything serious, but this was horrible
- Don’t you worry, Luffy stayed with you the entire night. He stole a bucket from Sanji for you to throw up in, and tried to tell you funny stories to lighten up your mood
- “Okok- ummmmm. Ok so there was this one time where grandpa kicked me down into a hole at night and-“ (Luffy was abused /with love)
- whenever you tried to sleep, he’d pat your head softly to lull you to sleep, and he tried his VERY hardest not to make any noise
- he ends up making noise but- it’s alright, you still love him (I hope)
- “Y/n! Don’t think about green! Like- don’t think about bushes and stuff! Think about uh… Meat! Wait- no. Uhm….“
- You were getting even more sick at the mention of the color green.. And meat? Luffy no.
- “NO I’M SORRY! DON’T THINK ABOUT MEAT! THINK ABOUT UH- THE SKY? THE GOING MERRY! SUNNY?”
- with him naming random stuff extremely loudly, it was able to distract you from all those gross thoughts, good save Luffy
- you made it through the night (traumatized) but alive. You were glad Luffy was there to stay with you, even though he’s not the best doctor in town lmao
- he loves you, and he’d do anything to make you feel alright :)
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- he’s very experienced with almost every sickness, and he’s read about almost every kind of medical book he has in his library
- but nothing prepared him for taking care of the person he loved, because books don’t cover that :)
- you already asked Dragon if you could rest for today, and that alone made sabo so worried. You never had to miss a mission.. This must’ve been really bad
- as soon as the ship docked, sabo sprinted, and I mean SPED towards the headquarters
- my man literally knocked poor koala over on the way 😭
- when he burst through the door like a mad man, he grimaced when he saw how bad you looked
- you were still sitting by the toilet, your face turning green in close intervals
- “Oh hey sabo- how was the m-“ *throws up*
- “Y/N?! ARE YOU OK?!”
- He’s about to faint, but he managed to drag the doctor out from his office, and haul ass back to you for him to check you out
- sabo never knew he could be so tense and anxious, he found out today that he suffered from major anxiety whenever something bad happened to you 😭
- The doctor explained that it was simply a really bad stomach flu, and it would go away by either tomorrow or the next few days
- sabo was glad it wasn’t anything serious! But still, he was worried about you, I mean… You weren’t looking great-
- He tried his best, but whenever you threw up, he felt sick as well- so he comforted you while closing his eyes and covering his ears (he’s trying)
- at one point he had to run off because he threw up too 💀 probably from both feeling horrible because you were going through this. And also, he’s scared of vomit unfortunately
- just because he’s scared doesn’t mean he’s not going to stay with you 24/7! He’s sitting with you, giving you whatever you ask and need
- he tries to talk about anything except vomit and the color green lmao- but he somehow finds a way to get back to it??
- “Yeah on the mission today- we were freeing some of our comrades and one of them- his name’s Steve. He was wearing this AWFUL green shirt and I swear-!” *throws up*
- “I’M SORRY- FORGET EVERYTHING I JUST SAID PLEASE.”
- this poor man is dying, but trying 👍
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- like Luffy, this guy has never been sick. EVER
- but he’s an expert at sensing whether or not you’re feeling ok- it’s kinda creepy
- it’s like he knows if a sneeze is coming, and he says bless you early 0-0
- this time, he didn’t catch it since he was off the ship, kicking marine ass on an island
- when he got back, you were- let’s just say.. You’ve been better.
- Whitebeard was worried, and Marco took a look at you right away. No one was as worried as Ace though, this poor guy was on fire, quite literally
- he kept accidentally setting things on fire around him from how worried he was!
- “Ace, don’t panic. Stay calm.” -Whitebeard
- “I AM CALM.”
- no he is not calm at all
- Marco told you that this would just have to pass normally, and he could only give you some anti-nausea meds
- when ace could finally go into your room, he was asking every single question known to man
- “Baby are you ok? You need water? Hugs? Food? A bucket? Meds? Blanket? Marco to turn into a fluffy bird and for you to hold him in your hand?”
- “…what?”
- let’s just say if you need something, he’s on it
- whenever you throw up, he’s like- cheering you on?
- “Great job! Get all that nasty stuff out! You got this!”
- I mean. It helped I guess 💀
- he’ll give you cuddles, hugs, anything to help you fall asleep and get through the night
- you finally fell asleep on him after a couple hours
- but this poor dude needed to pee so bad at around 3am. But the thought of waking you up, only for you to start throwing up again made him so sad..
- he didn’t want you to have to go through it again if you didn’t have to!
- so he sucked it up, and held it until you woke up at 7
- “Oh hey ace.. I feel a lot better now, thanks for staying.”
- “Oh my gosh that’s great! But give me like- 10 seconds I have to pee so fucking bad-!”
- my man SPED to the bathroom, leaving a literal trail of fire 💀💀💀
- he was in there for a while 😭
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a/n - ace is so sweet 🥹
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telvess · 4 months
Note
I was hanging out with a little girl who fucking coughed on me and now I'm sick...
Usually I'll drink a shot of vinegar, ginger honey, cinnamon and cayenne pepper... but i don't have access to than rn...
And in my sick/ half sleep haze I was thinking about how our diverse cast of hot men would take care of sick s/o using natural remedies
So Shiva, jataka, Buddha, (it might be the same because India idk, I guess Thai for Buddha)
Loki (Celtic/Greek idk)
Kojiro (Japanese)
I need some ror men..
medicine!
Need medicine...
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I hope your sickness was short!
I THINK I'M IN LOVE WITH SASAKI BECAUSE OF YOU!
RoR: How do they take care of sick s/o (Shiva, Jataka, Buddha, Loki, Sasaki Kojirō)
Shiva
Shiva has never been sick in his life, so he freaks out a bit when you get sick. Not the most helpful companion you can find. At first he asks what to do, but if you are too weak to speak, then… oh well.
Shiva doesn’t leave his realm, so he doesn't know any natural, human remedies that could help you. He keeps you warm and sits next to you the entire time. He remains vigilant. Even he pretends it’s nothing, his wives can tell he genuinely worries.
Once the worst is over and you start to look more alive, Shiva does his best to keep you in a good mood. Say a word and he will even dance for you.
What’s surprising, no matter how hard you try, you can’t infect Shiva. He basically cuddles you, feeds you, and helps you change clothes all the time, and yet all the germs seem to ignore him.
Jataka
Jataka was sick himself, he knows it all too well. As soon as he notices the first symptoms, he is very caring. Even if it’s just a flu, he doesn't downplay it.
He prepares for you an ayurvedic drink. Depending on your symptoms, he will choose the right recipe. He makes sure you drink all of it, so don’t even try to argue. It’s a waste of time, this man is too stubborn.
Jataka provides everything you need, he even brings you a book to read or he reads to you himself. He is cautious and keeps his distance, but that doesn’t stop him from being very strict: he makes sure you drink enough water and that you’re warm.
Every time he checks if you have a fever, he caresses your cheek with his finger before moving away. It's the only physical thing he can do right now to show you his affection.
Buddha
His first reaction is to tell you to lie down. It doesn't seem to bother him, because it’s just the flu. He had it when he was human, it’s not a big deal, especially if you have everything you need right under your nose. But secretly it eats him up inside, to the point where he can no longer eat sweets. So he shows up on your doorstep with his very casual attitude and starts asking questions. He checks if you’re hydrated, if you have a fever, if you need anything.
Buddha was born in present-day Nepal, so he follows ayurvedic… a little. He knows it’s not 100% effective, but he still finds some methods solid. He would make you brew containing honey, tusi leaves and lemon juice, and force you to drink it. It’s the best for the flu in his opinion.
He sits at the proper distance, eats his sweets and talks to you. He isn’t the worst companion you can get. Isn’t the best either… Do you know how good this candy is? Oh, right, you don’t, because you can’t taste *smirk* Don’t waste your pillow trying to hit him…
Loki
Let’s be honest, Loki probably isn’t the best person to take care of a sick person. At first, he acts annoyed when you announce your condition to him, but after awhile when he sees you struggling with the easiest tasks, he begins to worry. Seeing you in such weak shape makes Loki a little, a bit… soft.
From what I’ve researched, the Nords believed that sickness was an attack of malignant spirits (often ancestors) on the body. Loki obviously knows better what’s going on with you, but I wouldn’t be surprise if he mentions this fun fact to you. He was probably the one who sold people this nonsense in the first place. Let's just hope you're not hallucinating…
Loki prepares you tea with honey and entertains you with his new diabolical plans of how to mess with humans. He doesn’t even need you to be active in the conversation, but it's nice to see you smile or snort from time to time.
Loki doesn't follow any rules (i.e. keeps his distance, washes hands) and he will probably end up sick as well. Guess whose fault it is? And guess will have to take care of him? AND guess who won’t lie in bed and rest but spread germs everywhere? That’s right…
Kojirō Sasaki
He is the sweetest guy you could have by your side right now. A little clumsy, but he has got a spirit.
Considering how observant Kojirō is, he'll probably be the first to notice the symptoms. Even if you deny it, he will prepare for the possibilities ahead.
Sasaki would prepare for you hachimitsu-daikon - it’s Japanese form of cough and throat syrup, made from honey and Japanese radish. Kojirō would make it for you just like his mother did when he was a child.
Kojirō doesn’t mind missing a few days of training, you’re his priority. He is with you as long as you need and entertains you with stories from his life. He can read you something until you fall asleep.
He makes sure you’re hydrated, always brining you fresh water or preparing ginger tea called shoga-yu. He doesn’t try to make you anything else, because he is terrible at picking herbs and might accidentally poison you.
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shellyshellshell · 7 months
Text
Detective Grumpy: Part Two
Attn: Got some more Walter for you guys. I’m tired today so if there’s any mistakes I’m putting it to that lol. Hopefully y’all enjoy it!
Word Count: 1,794
Pairing: Walter Marshall x Computer Analyst Coworker
Summary: Mathew’s family is sick so you’re on your own in the lab. You make a breakthrough and spend a little more time with Walter.
Warnings: angst, mentions of trafficking children (nothing graphic, case related), a nightmare/breakdown over the case, Walter being soft, yearning
Previous Part:
Part One
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The next morning you woke up not to your alarm but to a call from Matthew. “Hey, what’s wrong?,” you grumbled sleepily. “I’m sorry for waking you, Sissy, but I had to let you know I’m not gonna make it in today. The twins were up all night with a high fever so we ended up in the E. R. It’s flu, and now Tera is feeling bad, so I’ve gotta do my best not to get sick to tend to everyone,” he said. 
“Do you all need anything?,” you asked. “No I don’t think so. I’m going to do a grocery order pickup here in a bit and come right back home. “Okay well if you do happen to need anything just let me know. I’ll drop whatever you need on the porch,” you told him, now sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “Thanks Sissy. Sorry for having to leave you on your own and all,” Matthew said. “Don’t even worry about it. Take care of your family,” you replied. You bid each other goodbye then you got ready for your day. 
You went and started up your car so it’d warm up before you ate a bowl of oatmeal and chugged down a cup of coffee before fixing you a mug to go along with grabbing your lunch for the day. When you went outside the cold jumped up and slapped you right in the face. “Shit,” you grumbled as your teeth chattered. You got into your warm car and headed to the station. 
You made it in unscathed and headed down to the lab. You weren’t having any luck finding anything else on the laptop so you decided to try the one Matthew had been working on. You continued poking around until you found a spreadsheet in a hidden file. It had names of buyers and descriptions of the children they bought. “Fucking got you fuckers now,” you said quietly. “What have you got?,” Walter asked, his voice cutting through the quietness of the lab like a knife. 
“A list of buyers,” you told him. “Really?,” he asked as he made his way around to you. “Yep. I was checking out this other laptop and found it in a hidden file. I’m about to print it off for you now,” you replied. “I could kiss you,” he said suddenly. “What-,” you stammered. “I- uh… I’m just glad you found this. It’s a big break, Kitten,” he replied. You could’ve sworn he was blushing. 
“Oh. Figure of speech,” you muttered feeling embarrassed. “Exactly. Not that I think kissing you would be bad or anything like that,” he said awkwardly. “No, I- I didn’t take it that way. I don’t think kissing you would be bad either,” you blurted for some reason before looking at the floor. “Kitten,” he said, lifting your chin with his finger so that your gaze met his. “Yeah?,” you questioned. “We’re alright, okay? Sorry for being awkward,” he said sweetly. “Alright, me too,” you replied, making him smile softly. 
“I’m going to take this list with me, but in the meantime can you get me more information on the people on it?,” he asked. “Yeah, of course,” you replied. “Alright, keep up the good work,” he said as he left. Your heart was still beating fast at the thought of Walter kissing you. You shook it off before getting back to work. You warmed your lunch, a prepackaged pasta meal and grabbed a bottle of water before heading back to run names off the list. 
You were ten in out of forty names. This was going to be a long day. You stabbed the tortellini your fork and ate it before compiling the info you’d just found onto your growing list. Before you knew it, it was eleven pm and you could feel your self becoming drowsy. You must’ve dozed off because the next thing you knew someone was grabbing you by the shoulder. It startled you so badly you grabbed a pair of scissors from your desk and began to try and stab whoever the hell had crept up on you. 
“Whoa. Easy Kitten. It’s only me,” Walter said as he took your wrist in his big hand. He held your face with the other, trying to ground you. “Walter?,” you questioned. You blinked a few times, having forgotten where you were. “It’s me,” he said softly. “Shit. I am so sorry. I was having a nightmare,” you said. He released your hand, and took the scissors from you. 
“Must’ve been pretty scary,” he said as he wiped away a few tears you hadn’t realized fell. “I guess this damn case… I had my little cousins. Someone was trying to take them from me and when you grabbed me…,” you trailed off. “It felt like it was in the dream,” he finished. “Yeah,” you said shakily. You felt stupid for crying and quickly tried to collect yourself. “You don’t have to do that, Kitten, not with me,” he told you. 
“Do what?,” you asked. “Put on a brave face. I know better than anyone how hard it is,” he said. “I just don’t understand how- how…,” you sobbed. “I know. Come here,” he said pulling you into his chest. You continued to cry as you held tight to the front of his sweater. Back home you’d never gotten a case this terrible. The thought of someone hurting a child was absolutely breaking you. 
Walter rubbed your back soothingly until you calmed down. You pulled back and he wiped the tears off your face with his sleeve before pushing it back up. “You’re going to be okay, Kitten,” he told you. You nodded still standing there clinging to him feebly. “Let me drive you home alright?,” he said. “How will I get back in the morning?,” you asked. “I’ll come get you. You don’t need to be driving like this. Sleepy and upset makes for a bad wreck and I can’t have that,” he told you.  
“Okay,” you replied. You put on your coat and hat before gathering up the rest of your things. He led you out of the station, making sure to keep close in case you started to slip on the sidewalk before opening the door for you to get in his vehicle. You told Walter where you house was and he knew the way so you leaned back and rested. You tried your best not to fall asleep again but your eyes were dreadfully heavy. 
When he pulled up to your house you were sound asleep. He gently took your keys from you to go open the door before coming back to collect you. He easily carried you into your house before sitting you on your bed and removing your coat, hat, and shoes. He covered you up before brushing the hair back from your face. His touch was feather light but it still made you stir. “Walter,” you mumbled and you brought your hand up over top the one he had by your face. 
“You’re alright Kitten. You fell asleep and I’ve put you to bed,” he said softly. You nodded before turning and tucking his hand under your face while now holding onto him with both hands. “You’ve got to let me go, Kitten,” he chuckled. “Hmm? Oh…,” you said sleepily. You released your grip on him but Walter let himself linger. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen something so beautiful. “Good night, Kitten,” he said softly before kissing your temple and finally managing to pull himself away. 
The next morning your alarm went off and you felt like hammered dog shit. “Uuugh,” you groaned as you rolled out of bed. You were still in your clothes from yesterday and felt stiff as hell. You quickly stripped, pinned your hair back, and hopped in the shower. The warm water washing over you felt amazing. You tired to hurry, remembering that Walter was coming to pick you up. 
When you got to your closet you heard knocking on the door. “Shit,” you mumbled. You dried quickly and threw on your robe. When you opened the door, there stood Walter. “Sorry, I was trying to hurry,” you said moving to let him in. “That’s alright, Kitten,” he said moving into your house. You could’ve imagined it but his eyes seemed to roam over you. You went back to your room to dress quickly then brushed your hair and teeth before heading back into the kitchen. 
You began rushing around and Walter grabbed you by your shoulders, stopping you. “Relax Kitten. We’ll leave when you’re ready,” he assured you. “Sorry I just feel all discombobulated this morning,” you told him. “I understand. You want to go get something to eat?,” he asked you. “Won’t we be late if do that?,” you asked. “It’ll be alright,” he replied. “Alright then,” you replied, the hurry in you completely leaving your body at Walter’s relaxed mood. 
You groaned again as you headed out into the cold. You got into Walter’s truck, relishing the warm heat coming from the vents. “Still not liking this cold?,” he laughed. “Is it that obvious?,” you chuckled. He nodded with a soft smile. “I’m not made for this shit. I’m always cold anyway and this doesn’t help,” you told him. “Always cold, huh?,” he asked. 
“Yes, unfortunately. Look,” you said as you pulled off your gloves. You place your hands on the sides of his neck, making him jump. “See. We weren’t out in the cold two minutes and I’m like and icicle,” you said. He took your hands off him and let both his big hands engulf yours. He was so warm you felt like you were melting. “Better?,” he asked softly as he continued holding them. “Yeah,” you whispered. 
Your mind began to wander. If his hands were this warm you could only imagine how warm the rest of his body felt. You felt your cheeks burn at the thought. What you didn’t know was that Walter was having the exact same thought. He imagined stripping you down and holding you close to his chest under a blanket, the two of you lazily laying together all day, him keeping you warm in every way possible. You suddenly blinked, not having realized you and Walter were both staring at each other intently. 
“Kitten,” he rasped. “Yeah?,” you asked. He blinked a few times, seemingly snapping out of it. He cleared his throat and let your hands slip away from his. You nearly pouted in protest but quickly remembered you had no right. “I was going to ask if you liked IHOP,” he said. “Yeah, I do,” you replied. He nodded before putting the truck in reverse to back out of your driveway. 
Part Three
Taglist:
@mrsevans90, @sofiebstar, @kingliam2019, @ylva-syverson, @foxyjwls007, @identity2212, @summersong69, @bascmve01, @thewhowhatwherewhenuniverse, @drewharrisonwriter, @noirecatt, @duckling-mayie, @sweetbearcolorgarden, @mishkatelwarriorgoddess, @beck07990, @everything-but-the-not-natural, @hannah9921, @pandaxnienke
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jishyucks · 2 months
Text
Staycation — lfl
‣ pairing: felix lee x reader
‣ genre: fluff, implied f2l, hurt/comfort
‣ wc: 2.6k
‣ summary: Spending Christmas sick and in bed wasn’t Felix’s ideal way of spending the holiday. Being the best friend that you are, you decide to take care of him. Who would have thought that Felix was clingy when he had the flu?
‣ warnings: uhh, a jab at men when they’re sick (i’m speaking from experience), this is mostly platonic but the end is implied f2l (or else this would've been long as shit)
‣ an: OKAY this was cute too, something short but sweet and simple,, I haven't written for Felix in so long so I hope this was good enough,, PLEASE ENJOY! x
Series Masterlist
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“I’m sorry again.” 
A huff leaves your lips when you turn to Felix’s figure buried under layers of blankets. “Lix, for the millionth time, I promise you, it’s fine. I chose to stay and take care of you.”
“You didn’t choose. The others chose you because you already got sick before,” Felix argues, “And I know how excited you were for the party, so don’t lie that it’s okay.” He squirms, looking adorably identical to a swaddled baby. 
“If I didn’t wanna be here, then I wouldn’t be here, okay?” You say, picking up the water bottle sitting at his bedside table and bringing it up to his lips to drink, “I was excited, but I don’t think it would’ve been fun knowing you weren’t there to enjoy it, either.” 
Felix takes a sip out of the bottle and hums at how delicious the water tastes when his throat is as dry. He thanks you and sighs, “Yeah but you’ve been talking about it for the past month and I had to ruin it with my stupid immune system.” 
“Well, would you rather it be me or Jisung here to take care of you?” You raise a brow. His silence was enough to answer you and you giggled, “See?” Although Jisung was a great friend to Felix, he and you both knew that Jisung would only do the bare minimum at times like these. 
“Are you okay with me leaving for a bit to make you soup?” you ask, “You can just call out to me and I’ll come quick.” 
Felix lets out a sound of acknowledgement and you leave him be, leaving his rather stuffy room and out into the main area of his apartment. 
You move into the kitchen, your slippers dragging against the cool tile, eyes set on the bags of groceries you had bought to cook. There’s a twinge of guilt in your chest because you’re starting to think that you were the one who had given Felix this nasty cold, but it genuinely wasn’t the reason why you chose to stay and take care of him. 
Playing one of your playlists, you get to cooking, squatting down to grab a decently sized pot in one of the cabinets. You eye the amount of water you fill it with before carefully bringing it to the stove to boil. Then you pull out a chopping board to begin slicing vegetables. 
All of this was like second nature to you. It was something you’d prepare on lazy days or days when you needed comfort, and you figured that this was the perfect time to make it. 
It was halfway through that you heard Felix’s door creak open and the floorboards underneath your feet shift. “Lix, get back to bed.” You speak to him over your shoulder, too busy stirring the pot to prevent the ingredients from settling to the bottom and overcooking. “Smells good.” Felix’s voice comes out hoarse. He waddles over to you, his blankets trailing behind him like the train of a wedding dress. 
It almost catches you off guard when Felix chooses to place himself at your side, your arms making an indent into his bunch of blankets. You freeze for a moment before you push yourself to look over at him. Fuck he was close. Like ‘you could probably count his freckles’ close. And Felix didn’t seem to care, thoughtlessly blinking at the bobbing vegetables. 
“Dizzy…” Felix’s arm emerges from underneath his blankets and his hand goes to grab his head. The lids of his eyes close and he groans, brows knitting in discomfort. 
“That’s why you should get back into bed, stupid,” you nudge at his side and put down your spoon, “C’mon.” 
He shakes his head, “I don’t want to go back to bed.” Felix sounds like a stubborn child, but you figure this was how all men were when they were sick. It was the same with your brother and your dad… and you can recall that Jisung was stubborn when he was sick a few months back, too. 
“If you’re dizzy, you need to lay down, Lix.” 
His head turns and settles on the couch in the nearby living room, “Can I lay down in the living room, then?” 
“Fine.” You guide him to the couch, making sure that the guy doesn’t fall over and hit his head, “When was the last time you took meds?”
Felix shrugs, “Like… when Sungie left?” 
You look over at the clock and estimate the number of hours until his next dose, “Okay, remind me to give you some at eight.” 
“Yes, mom.” 
“Do you want me to take care of you, or not?” You jokingly threaten, sending him a glare, though his eyes were closed.
“Was… joking.” Felix burrows deeper into the couch, “Was joking…” And he’s asleep. 
You shake your head, a laugh leaving your system in the form of a huff of air before you go back to your soup, dropping in the last few ingredients before letting it sit. 
From where you were in the kitchen, Felix moaned and grumbled out incoherent words, stopping after what seemed to be a sentence. You figured that he was sleep talking—you remember reading somewhere that it was a result of stress in the body—and it was utterly adorable. 
Thinking back over all the years you’ve been friends with Felix, there was not one day when he was this sick. He's had a couple of colds that’s lasted no more than two days, a flu here and there, but never had he fallen so sick that he’s sleep talking. 
When you finish cooking the soup, you turn the stove off and go to one of the cabinets to take two bowls out. You prepare a serving for you and Felix, using a serving spoon to pour the contents of the soup. Hunger’s gaining on you, too. You’ve been so busy making the food that you haven’t even thought of eating. 
“Lix.” You look down at him from behind the couch. The boy’s still mumbling things underneath his breath and you can see the way his eyes move underneath his lids. Bringing your pointer finger up to his cheek, you poke it, “Lix, the soup’s ready.” 
Felix stirs and his eyes flutter, open, “Hm?” 
“The soup’s ready.”
In the blink of an eye, the pot’s empty and all the soup is downed and eaten by you and Felix, who looks far better than he did not even half an hour ago. 
He’s wide awake, hair still a mess and blankets sitting around his waist at the table. A delicate smile sits on his lips, satisfied by the meal you’ve just given him and he thanks you, “I’ll do the dishes.” “Nuh-uh, you’re going to continue resting.” Before he objects, you reach over and grab his bowl and his utensils, gathering them with your own. You’re quick to get up and get to the sink, ignoring the hurried calls Felix sends your way. 
He follows you soon after, though he stumbles in the slightest, sticking to your side like a magnet. “Y/N, let me do it. Please~” 
“Lix, it’s two bowls and two spoons.” 
“I don’t care, you cooked the food,” Felix frowns. He makes no effort to push you aside but he hovers over your shoulder, watching as you wait for the water to warm up. 
“I don’t care, you’re sick,” you retort. 
You feel Felix’s hands gently grab your elbows, this time making his attempts to pull you aside so that he could start with the chore, “Y/N~” 
You tsk and shoot him a glare, “Felix, I’m serious.” 
Felix drops his arms and huffs as if he were a child being told no. “I feel bad.” 
“You’re sick,” you repeat, “It’s okay, Lix. Now go sit on the couch before you fall over.” 
Another sigh of defeat shoots out of Felix’s lips and he hesitates to leave, sticking to your side for a few more moments before he turns to return to the couch. 
“Do you want to do something for the rest of the night?” You hope he hears you over the running water, “We can watch a movie if you want.” 
If Felix replied, you don’t hear him, water running on full blast as you rinse the suds of soap off of the dishes. You place them into the dishwasher and then go to wash your hands, quickly joining Felix in the living room. 
“Do you know what we haven’t done in so long?” Felix is sitting upright on the couch, upper body sinking on the backrest of the furniture. His hair sticks out in tufts from underneath his head as he looks at you. 
“What?” 
“Built a fort.” 
You snort at the idea of building a fort in the middle of his and Jisung’s living room, feeling a bit of nostalgia when you think back to your days as kids and pre-teens. Building furniture forts was something you and Felix had always done on sleepovers, always promising your parents that the place would be back into its rightful state before one of you had to go back home. 
“You really want to build a fort right now?” You raise a brow at the sickly boy. The idea was cute, something that would easily kill the time from now ‘til Jisung returns from the party. And despite your question, you weren’t opposed to building a fort. 
“Please?” For some reason, Felix believes that you’re going to say no, “I feel okay right now! I feel better! Your soup made me feel better!” He musters up the best pout he can show you and sits up. The sudden change in position reminds Felix that he still has symptoms of dizziness, slightly tipping over before he goes to grab your hand.
And being the weakest motherfucker for Felix, you cave in, “On one condition.” 
He nods for you to continue.
“If I sense that you’re really not feeling well and you start getting all dizzy on me, we’re stopping.” 
“Deal.”
You and Felix spin a wheel to see which holiday movie you should play in the background as you build the cozy fortress—it lands on Love Actually—and begin taking apart the couches. Cushions and blankets from the living room and Felix’s room create a mountain off to the side, and you both manage to push the frames of the sofas to be used as the fort’s foundation. 
The building takes longer than you both had wanted, occasionally stopping because the movie was growing more and more interesting as time passed. But during the filler scenes, you begin arranging the blankets, pillows, and seats to create walls and roofs for the fort. 
The actual shape of the fort wasn’t the most creative, but you and Felix had decided to prioritize comfort over aesthetics. Most of the pillows and the blankets created the bedding for you both to lay in, the largest blanket, a thin secondary blanket coming from his room, was what you had chosen for the roof. 
Upon finishing, you couldn’t help but notice the way Felix grins from ear to ear and the sight of it causes your heart to warm up unusually—one that was both familiar yet new. You ignore it.
“Finally,” Felix huffs, “Finally I can lay down.” 
The movie’s just about finished when you’re both able to settle inside the fort (yes, it took two whole hours to build a fort). That feeling of nostalgia from earlier rushes back and your gaze leaves the screen and onto the blank, soft blue fabric of the fort’s ceiling. 
“What movie should we play next?” Felix questions from beside you. He’s seated slightly higher than you were—you were laying flat on your back—and you feel his forearm leave your side to grab the remote. 
“Doesn’t really matter to me,” you say quietly. You’re not quite sure what’s taken over you but you catch yourself continuing to stare blankly at Felix’s thin blanket.
Felix takes a while to reply, probably scrolling through the selection of movies but you don’t make an effort to look. You feel like falling asleep. 
“The Polar Express, it is.” You feel your best friend shift back to your side, tugging at his blanket to pull it up to his chin. 
“Are you okay?” Then Felix’s face appears in your line of sight. He’s looking down at you, lips forming a small u-shaped smile as he patiently awaits your answer. And from his perspective, your eyes cross to look back at him, eyes half-lidded. 
“Yeah, ‘m just tired.” You ignore the way your heart’s annoyingly beating against your rib cage.
Felix understands your answer. You’ve been taking care of him for the entirety of the evening, and then you both built an entire fort with not-so-light materials. 
Felix plops back down next to you, this time his arm falling right on top of yours—and none of you try to move away. You figured that it was because it felt… nice—the apartment was cold, the room patiently waiting for the furnace’s next round of heat—so the heat radiating off of Felix’s arm was more than enough for you to feel comfortable. 
“Me too.” 
You wouldn’t call Polar Express boring, but it was calming enough for you to fall asleep. It’s funny because you were well aware that you were falling asleep, you just couldn’t bring yourself to shake yourself out of it. 
“You’re sleeping~” Felix calls out. He doesn’t think he’d actually wake you up, but when your eyes flicker open to look at him, he’s already looking back at you with an apologetic smile. 
“I’m just resting my eyes,” you lie, “I’m tired.”
“You can sleep if you want,” Felix says this extra quiet, just under his breath. 
The heaviness of your eyelids was taking over, smile drooping, “Wake me up if you need anything.”
Felix gives you a hum in response, and you find yourself succumbing to sleep.
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
“Jisung, you need to get off of me, I know you’re not drunk.” 
Changbin’s voice echoes in the quiet hallway of the apartment building, Chan doing nothing to help the younger boy out. Instead, he’s walking ahead to unlock the door of Jisung and Felix’s shared apartment, opening the door wide enough for both guys to slip through. 
“I’m not, but I’m tired~” Jisung whines. He’s practically pulling down Changbin with all his weight, tripping and stumbling over his own feet. Chan just laughs, entering the room first to hold it open for the two. 
“What’s that?” Changbin’s the first to notice the fort that you and Felix had built earlier in the night. The TV was now off from inactivity and the place was quiet. 
Chan shrugs and Jisung groans at the sight of the mess (he doesn’t know yet that you’ll clean it up the next morning), not able to get a word out because Changbin tows him away from the living room and straight to his bedroom. 
“Y/N?” Chan calls out, “Lix?” 
He makes his way to the opening of the fort, his steps light and careful because he’s starting to get suspicious that you both were asleep, maybe hiding. 
Chan squats down, groaning when he feels his aging knees crack. Then, he brings himself to peek in. 
Under the dim light spilling into the fort, Chan sees the both of you fast asleep. You’re facing away from Felix, a small throw pillow being suffocated in your arms. And Felix, both of his arms are thrown around you and falling limp around your frame. 
As much as Chan wanted to tease the both of you, he couldn’t help but notice how peaceful the two looked—probably exhausted. 
“Are they in there?” 
Chan looks up and over the roof of the fort to see that Changbin has finally gotten rid of Jisung and he is ready to head home. He has a knowing smile, almost appearing like a smirk.
Chan nods and mirrors Changbin’s expressions and stands up.
“Give me your phone, I need to take a picture of this.”
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tags: @tytrackfebreze @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi @ariadores @reignessance
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jobesbabe · 1 month
Note
Heyy, recently I’ve been thinking of ‚teen‘ dad jobe a little bit too much. He’d be so anxious about becoming a father, yet Jobe‘s so supportive and caring towards you and your child.
Although anxiety eats him up whole, he grows so attached to his baby; protecting you two, spending time with you and overall becoming the best father to be 🎀
My baby / Jobe Bellingham
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warnings- established relationship, pregnancy, throwing up, fluff
summary- Jobe and you are expecting a baby and you cant decide if you are worried or excited.
a/n - In my head Jobe is 20 in this fic, just because and I think this is a great prompt. alr, thanks! enjoy!
Every morning that week you woke up with the stomach flu. You would be as quiet as can be, but Jobe would always know somehow and run after you to hold your hair up and rub circles on your back.
“You should be asleep,” You said, “You have a match at noon.”
Jobe shook his head. “I don’t care about a stupid match, I just care that you’re going to be okay.”
You smiled weakly. “This should pass, I’m not going to be sick forever.”
He nodded before kissing your cheeks lightly. “I will make sure of that.”
But the next morning and the morning after that, you threw all the contents of your stomach up.
You had barely been eating at night, just some of his mother’s chicken soup and plain crackers. Yet even that had ended up out of your system by morning.
You cried against Jobe’s chest in bed as he hugged you.
“Something is wrong with me,” You cried weakly.
He just pulled you tighter and hummed in response, kissing your temples.
“I mean, I’m throwing up every day, It’s even thrown my period off, it’s a week late!” You exclaimed.
“Wait,” Jobe asked while sitting up in bed. “A week late as in you have it now or a week late as in you haven’t gotten it?”
“Jobe I haven’t gotten it.” You explained tired. You snuggled into him, ready for sleep and he instead got up.
“I have to run to the store, don’t worry it’s for you, but it’s nothing bad.” Jobe told you before giving you a peck and then rushing off.
Jobe came back thirty minutes later with three different pregnancy tests. He picked you up out of bed bridal style and led exhausted you to the bathroom.
“Baby, I know this could be a long shot, but I remember one of the lads talking about how his wife was sick when they were first expecting. You don’t have to test if you don't want to, but whats the harm in it?” He asked excitedly.
Tired you took the tests and waited in Jobe’s arms for the results. You wanted to look at the same time. You didn’t know if you wanted a baby or not. Jobe didn’t either, he claimed, but there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes, wondering what a little Bellingham family would be like. Don’t get me wrong, he was still terrified. But the baby gave him excitement he’d never felt before.
As you two looked together at all three tests, the results all matched. Two lines.
Anxiety filled the both of you and you embraced each other knowing you were in the same boat.
Jobe put his hands on your stomach reassuringly.
“I love you,” He said, and you couldn’t tell if it was toward you or the little Bellingham.
Eight and a quarter months later, Your baby boy was born.
Thomas Luke Bellingham. He was the most beautiful boy, with your eyes and Jobe’s smile. He was perfect. Neither of you knew how to be parents and Jobe was constantly scared he would mess something up and hurt his little boy.
Tommy was a daddy’s boy though, always calming down when his dad was around and cooing at his father’s matches.
Once Jobe got the hang of parenting, he was always showing the both of you off saying, “This is my son Tommy, He adores me and football,” Even though he wasn’t even six months old.
The three of you had shaped up to be such an adorable family, earning aww’s everywhere you went.
You loved each other so much. The three of you against the world.
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thetarsier · 10 months
Note
hear me out hear me out… getting ill and being kind of loopy and saying things to lockwood you wouldn’t normally say and he just laughs affectionately and tries to take care of you but then you get him sick afterwards and you just recuperate together while watching some old hugh grant movie or smth like that?? (also welcome to tumblr and i love ur writing omg)
a/n: omg thank you, you’re so sweet <3
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings/notes: i don't think there are any, just being ill and Anthony being sweet.
<3: anthony lockwood x reader, established relationship
“You’re pretty.”
Anthony laughed, the sound making you immediately smile in your idle state. Your confession had come after a thirty-second-long coughing fit that had to have been the most unattractive you had ever looked. But you weren’t worried about that, because you knew that Anthony wasn’t, either; he would love you either way, any way.
He gently pressed a cold towel to your forehead, as your body shook with shivers despite burning up. Fevers were uncomfortable enough for everybody, but when they hit you, they hit you hard. 
You’d caught the flu somehow, and Anthony hadn’t left you alone for longer than a couple of hours so that you could sleep. Even then, he sat by your bedside whenever he could, watching over you, making sure your chest kept rising and falling. 
It was just the flu, but that didn’t stop him from worrying. He was extremely protective of you in every aspect of your lives; in the field, at home, out in public - he never let you walk next to the road, or into any situation that even had the potential to put you in danger without him, and when it was your turn to cook dinner, Anthony almost always helped you, knowing how prone you were to forgetting the oven gloves.
“Thank you, Darling,” He took the towel away and placed it on the bedside table, “So are you.”
He constantly complimented you, but in your sickly state, his affection pushed you over the moon and you wanted nothing more than to kiss him to repay the favour; you were lucid enough to know that that wasn’t a particularly good idea. Anthony always found a way to make you feel exactly how you did when the two of you first got together - with him, the honeymoon phase had lasted for almost two years.
“I love you.” You closed your eyes, leaning into the pillow underneath your head.
“And you.” He pushed your hair behind your ear as you groaned, eyes refusing to open even as your face scrunched up in a pout. 
“Not fair. Not good enough.”
Anthony hated saying ‘I love you’. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel it, you knew that he did - it was difficult to spend two years with someone and not love them - but he’d hidden his emotions for so long that admitting them was always difficult. He didn’t like being vulnerable. But your request was a salve to the burn it created in his throat when he finally swallowed his fear. 
“I love you, too.” He whispered, words for only you to hear before he kissed your forehead and settled back into his chair.
You pushed your hand out of the confines of your duvet, reaching for him across the small space between the two of you as though you would crumble without some kind of physical tether to him. Anthony obliged your request, leaning forward and taking your hand between his, kissing your palm before settling down and watching over you as you fell asleep.
~~~
Anthony walked into the room with a sniffle and then woke you up with a cough that sounded like it hurt both his chest and his throat. He set the glass of water he’d gotten for you on the bedside table, but you pushed it back toward him once you’d finally managed to sit up. 
“I think I got you sick.” Your voice was still croaky, a sure sign that you were still ill even if you had passed your germs on to your boyfriend.
“No, no,” Anthony waved your concern away, but his drooping eyes spoke louder than he was, “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” You complained, “I got you sick. Admit it.”
“Okay, darling, I’m perhaps a little bit ill,” He admitted, holding his hands up, “But I’m fine, just focused on making sure you get better.” 
He was always like this. Always focused on your health over his own, always making sure that you felt okay even if he felt worse. And as much as you tried to help him, he always put the focus back on you. As much as Anthony liked being the centre of attention with everyone else, liked being Lockwood, with you he was a background character, and he wouldn’t allow it to be another way. 
“Let me…” You pushed yourself up further, reaching your hand out, and Anthony came willingly, leaning his forehead into your palm, “Love, you’re burning up. That’s gotta be, like, forty degrees.”
“It’s not that bad. Thirty-nine.”
“Baby, thirty-nine is bad,” You scolded, moving your hand to cup his cheek instead, “I can’t believe I got you sick.”
“Thirty-nine is not as bad as forty.” He mumbled, reduced to nothing but slightly blushed cheeks at your telling-off. 
“It’s not as bad as forty,” You conceded, smiling gently at him, “Come on, if you’re already sick you may as well join me in here.” 
You pulled back the corner of your duvet, and Anthony barely waited a second to consider before he climbed into bed next to you, burrowing into your arms and burying his face into your neck. You hadn’t been able to touch him like you’d wanted since you’d gotten sick, so having him curled up into you was like a refreshing breeze on a hot day. 
“Should we watch something?” You suggested, gesturing loosely to the laptop at the end of your bed, pulling the tech towards you once Anthony had nodded against your shoulder, “Our favourite?”
“Mm, yes,” Anthony groaned as he drew closer to you, “Hugh Grant is all we need in life. Forget George and Luce.”
“Amen.” You laughed as you selected ‘Notting Hill’ and set the laptop back down where it had been before in a good position for the two of you to be able to watch the film. 
It wasn’t necessary, however, because by the way Anthony was slumping against you, it was obvious that he was going to be falling asleep in minutes. He was always like that - falling asleep like a baby as soon as he was in your arms, as though he knew that he could finally relax when you were there, like you were the only person who could never judge him. 
“I’m sorry I got you sick.” You kissed his hair in apology, and he could only muster up a hum against you.
“I’m glad you did,” He whispered against you, “I can finally sleep.”
And you did, both of you, cuddled up in your bed with ‘Notting Hill’ playing to nobody, never happier despite the illness both of you sported.
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dozing-marshmallow · 5 months
Note
could you maybe make ezekiel/zeeke headcannons?
Of course! Sorry this took a while! Enjoy!💕
EZEKIEL HEADCANONS
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Ezekiel has a really high spice tolerance, but refuses to discover it.
You actually put spices in his food and he doesn’t realise it’s “spicy”.
He can write very well in cursive but refuses to do so.
While we’re on the topic of writing, Ezekiel is ambidextrous, meaning he can write perfectly with both left and right hand.
Has owned many pet parrots, hamsters, fish and gave them all the same name.
He loves all kinds of music, yet cannot categorise the songs he listens to into their correct genres.
It does form some explanation as to how he’s a polyglot despite never leaving the country and interacting with other diverse cultures.
Puts the milk in before the cereal.
He grew up playing on a DS. Currently, he still doesn’t own a phone.
A decent cook, but he restricts himself from developing them under his dad’s teachings that the skill was womanly.
Regardless, he still does help his mom around with food catering, and did a lot more when he was younger. Sandwiches, salads, Saskatoon berry pie, he done them all.
Strangely, Ezekiel tends to get sick quite often, but it’s nothing fatal: just the common things, flu, fever, cold.
Ensure you always have a packet of tissues whenever you’re with him, and it’ll be alright.
A bit of a trendhopper, but who can blame him? This is coming from a sheltered boy who’s only trying to fit in.
His favourite colour is pale pink, but he’s been forcing himself to favortise blue instead. I wonder why.
Just because Ezekiel has been homeschooled his whole life, it doesn’t mean he didn’t have friends on the farm growing up- they’d all go out to draw on the roads with chalk, play marbles, tag, and climb trees. Though, he’d end up friendless for quite a large chunk of his later childhood as these friends either attended nearby schools and gravitated away into newfound friend groups or moved away to attend better ones.
He also loves snakes and spiders, but his mother is terrified of them, so whenever she begs him to take either one found in the house, he’d do it, but not necessarily throw them outside.
An animal friend was better than no friend.
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