#it's the fever/headache/dizziness probably | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yyoraely · 9 months

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★:sleeping in class, but you sat beside the housewardens — your boyfriend.

☆: HCS + FLUFF + SMALL BITS OF CRACK

. . . established relationship

★: r. rosehearts, l. kingscholar, a. ashengrotto, k. al-asim, v. schoenheit, i. shroud, m. draconia x gn!reader

☆: honestly bro this is a work ive written w/ the most number of characters

R. ROSEHEARTS

Did you really just think that you could get away with sleeping in class when Riddle is beside you? Think again. He’d shake you by your shoulder or poke you at your sides so that you’d wake up.

If you do complain about how boring Trein’s lessons are, Riddle would be baffled and lecture you about how important Trein’s lessons are to magic, whether you have magic or not.

Riddle is in denial once he realizes that his lover would be so against the idea in the importances of history in magic.

A poke at your side and a small grumble, you wake up to your boyfriend, Riddle, with a grumpy face on, poking your side until you wake up to his scolding.

“Regardless if you’d want good grades or not— you’ll be listening to Professor Trein’s lecture, either you’ll fail or pass, it won’t be my problem once you realize the importance of history.”

Once you get back to taking notes and listening, Riddle takes glances at you to make sure you aren’t dozing off again.

But back at Heartslabyul, he’ll confront you about what he was lecturing you about, and ask your reasons on why you’d doze off in class. Whether it’d be lack of sleep, overworking yourself, you have a small fever, you have a headache, or even if you just feel dizzy— he’ll do his best to make you feel better and rest, maybe with him telling Trey to make your favorite pastry, or if you don’t like pastries, he’ll get Trey to make or buy your favorite drink.

L. KINGSCHOLAR

He can relate to that problem. He can’t help himself by sleeping in class, so why else did you think he’d have someone tall sit in front of you both? To not cover him up sleeping?

Leona found himself get a little bit surprised when he saw you fall asleep before him during Trein’s class. He thought that you’d be the kind to stay awake to do his notes, but once he hears your reason, like if Crowley overworked you, or you overworked yourself, or maybe because you feel lightheaded or you didn’t eat breakfast, he won’t argue to that.

Speaking of falling asleep before him, Leona just joins you in on sleeping, probably with his arms crossed and his head down, he’ll somehow find a way to lean his body closer to yours, or atleast just have a body part of yours press against his. Like your thigh, your arm, maybe even your head.

“Tsk. This is borin’ me out. Hey, herbivo—“

Leona clicked his tongue, his arms crossed as he leaned his arms over the desk. He was about to ask if you would be able to stay up and do his notes like a good significant other, but no, you didn’t.

“Racin’ me to sleep, is that it?” With a grin, Leona put his head down on his arms on the desk; admiring your face for a moment before yawning and slowly scooting his spot closer to yours, just to bump his upper arm and head with yours.

Back at Savanaclaw, he’ll find ways to sneak in how “You’re starting to become lazy like him” once you talk about Trein’s lesson from earlier.

A. ASHENGROTTO

I’m gonna be honest here. Azul does NOT know what to do (at first). Let’s say that first, he’s thinking about letting you rest, since you’ve talked about your workload the other day, but he’s also thinking, if he does let you rest and you get caught, it’ll all be his fault!

Being a good boyfriend he is, he only lets you sleep for only a few more minutes, 5-10 minutes at best, then, he’ll wake you up so you don’t get caught by Trein. Azul will be very considerate, and calls this a “once-in-a-lifetime” chance where he lets you catch up with his notes.

Expect only a little scolding about you not being able to wait until Trein’s lesson ends so you can get a little nap, but he won’t push it too far to his scolding. Just a little strict reminder to get yourself some proper rest and not spend an entire night on a workload.

“My dearest (very sarcastic tone), do you thin—“

Azul checked his notebook, asking if you catched up on the last thing Trein said, before he saw your sleeping figure, head down on the desk. He couldn’t blame you for being you, being a sleepyhead and an overworker at the same time, Azul won’t push it to wake you up for now.

For a few minutes, that’s when Azul wakes you up with a gentle pat on your back, his voice in a whisper with his face a little too close to yours.

“Got some rest, sleepyhead?” He teased for only just a moment before shifting back to his chair and putting the half of his notebook beside you so you can copy his notes.

“Make sure you catch up, alright? I can’t have you flunking.” If you looked closely, there was a little grin on his face due to his successful attempt to wake you up.

K. AL-ASIM

Kalim, being a very nice man but also somewhat clueless, whispers (not really) in your ear and shakes you awake like an earthquake was happening.

At this action of his, though, Trein thought he was chattering with you and immediately scolded Kalim for his lack of listening and talkativeness.

Once Trein slammed his hand on the desk, that’s only when you wake up, clueless and a bit scared to wake up to see Trein’s as usual strict face.

“This lesson is sooo boring.”

Kalim pouted, his cheek resting on his curled fingers into a soft ball of a fist.

“Hey, hey, [Name]—“

He slowly turned his head, just like the beam of sunshine he was, a grin plastered onto his face, but slowly faded into just a little smile.

“[Name]..?” Kalim panicked, for an honest moment, he thought that you fainted or died (LMAOOO). With two hands on your shoulder, he shaked you awake, a sheepish expression on his face. “[Name], wake up!”

V. SCHOENHEIT

Did you really think Vil would let you rest your head down on the dirty desk? Don’t be so clueless. Vil, being your boyfriend, he only wants the best for you, and he doesn’t want any trouble with you being overworked, then attending class the next day.

He is aware of you being a sleepyhead, but he’s dissatisfied by the fact that you’d prefer to lay your head on the dirty desk, rather than his shoulder.

Slowly, Vil would lift your head from the desk and lean it against his shoulder instead. If Trein catches you? Don’t worry! Vil would defend you by saying you were overworked and you couldn’t sleep well, and if that doesn’t buy out, he’ll resort to more creative plans.

“Huh… so that’s how it was explained.”

Vil mumbled to himself, taking down a note before glancing at you to check if you were okay— if you could catch up on the notes.

Once he took a glance at your slumbering state, he smiled softly to himself before putting a hand under your head to place on his shoulder.

Vil got all the more focused on notes so once you’d wake up, he’ll let you copy or review the notes you’ve missed while you slept.

Back at Pomefiore, he will urge you to rest more whilst he might do a livestream or catch up on his notes while watching over you the same time.

I. SHROUD

Just like Leona, Idia can relate, but not in the tired kind of way. He relates in the more “bored” way where he really just wants to go back to his dorm and play games while you rest beside him, on him, or even with him.

Idia is a firm believer of that students should rest after doing something tiring and not attend classes, just because he’s defending his lover.

He doesn’t put his efforts in waking you up since he knows you need to rest, but was kinda upset you didn’t fall asleep on his shoulder like in the animes he watched :(

Idia, being quiet, was resting his chin on his palm, elbow propped onto the desk. He glanced at you, his lover, for only a short moment and went back to the lesson. He turns his head back again to make sure, just to realize you fell asleep in class.

He mumbled a little comment about you being cute or about you being a sleepyhead before slowly rubbing his fingertips along your scalp very gently so you could rest some more.

Idia isn’t very used to waking someone up, so if you manage to sleep till the end of class, he’ll only whisper a few mentions of “wake up”s and your name.

M. DRACONIA

Malleus is okay with letting you rest in class, especially if you’re a sleepyhead, or if you feel sick, or maybe even after pulling an all-nighter after a workload, but he also fears that you might flunk and not catch up on the lesson, so he does his best to wake you up.

He tries to be as gentle as possible with how he wakes you up, especially with his voice, but no, bro wakes you up like quandale dingle.

Malleus attempts his most quietest, gentlest, and sweetest voice, but oh, he couldn’t. He isn’t used to attempt in soft voices, but for you, his lover, he always tries his best, whether it’s his not very good talents to some attempts in his smiling or habits, he’ll always do his best, just for his lover.

“Child of man.”

With a hand on your shoulder and a small grin on Malleus’ face, he watched as you jolt awake by his voice. He got worried for a second that his voice surprised you too much to make you scared or something, but then again, that was just how he was.

“I believe it is time for you to wake up. You may not be able to catch up on the lessons if you keep on your slumbering.”

Malleus admired your face as you sat up and shifted whilst you rubbed your eyes. He adored the sight of his sleepy lover, but for some reason, he doesn’t get why he loves that sight of you so much.

“But you may rest in Diasomnia once this class is over. I will get Lilia to excuse you in class.”

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hoshieeyewrinkles · 3 months

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D o c t o r p a r k

Pairing: Doctor! Jay x Bimbo! Reader

Genre: smut

W.c: 2.5k

| Requested | Not proofread |

Tw warning: extreme humiliation, heavy degradation, anal sex, spanking, fingering, shoe humping, umm reader is put into a wedgie, Jay fingered her belly button 😭, Filth.

"I'm feeling a bit dizzy, Mr. Kim," you lamented, trying to evoke a sense of concern from your professor, who simply looked at you with skepticism. "I'm a bit concerned Miss.Y/n because you haven't been feeling well for the past few weeks. Maybe you should take the day off and ask your friends for notes." Your professor suggested the idea, and you reluctantly agreed, secretly rolling your eyes. In reality, you didn't actually have any dizziness or headaches. You just wanted an excuse to escape class and visit the nurse's office in hopes of catching a glimpse of the incredibly attractive Doctor Park, also known as Doctor Jay.

You have been on his tail since the past weeks, wanting to get into his pants than anything else. Though your plans have gone unsuccessful as he merely shrugged you off crushing your hopes in an instant. He was extremely stern and focused on his work. The university you were studying in was a prestigious one with strict protocols hiring the best lecturers, the best staff and the hottest doctor.

He was everything you ever wanted. He was smart, young, well-built and probably had a big dick too given by his attitude. Oh how you wished to feel his strong arms around your neck, keeping you in a chokehold.

There you were once again, waiting for him to notice you, in his office. With his white coat dangling by his chair, he was glancing through his phone. His well-fitting black shirt revealed his biceps, and he had his hair pulled back, his trousers ironed and his leather shoes lightly tapping the floor. You wished the floor was you instead. You were relieved that his nurse had taken a lunch break, but you found her annoying because of her privilege to always be around doctor Jay.

"Oh Miss.Y/n you again?" He questioned blankly, though the 'again' seemed a little emphasised. "Yes, doctor Park, I am feeling a little unwell." You responded in a soft tone, your voice coming across as seductive, as you had intended. Jay raised an eyebrow and slightly shook his head, his gaze drawn to your choice of outfit. A white mini skirt paired with a baby blue tube top. You were dressed in very little as usual, and his gaze was drawn to your sparkling headband and red nails, which would look stunning wrapped around his fat cock. He was fully aware of your intentions, but he could not afford to give in to them just yet.

"Miss.Y/n, you have come here three times this week. You already have a prescription from me for headache medication. Despite the fact that you showed no symptoms, you previously claimed to have a fever. What symptoms do you have now? Would you mind informing me, hm?" He inquired in the most casual tone. His tone already has your pussy throbbing. He was overconfident and a stuck-up asshole in the sexiest way possible.

"I feel some pain here, doctor." You said that, and then you moved over to the hospital bed and laid down next to his chair without asking. With a silent exhale, he looked up at you. Your top was dropping to expose your cleavage, and your skirt was perilously riding up to expose your soft mid-thighs.

"Where does it hurt, Miss Y/n?" He questioned unfazed, despite the fact that his mind was racing. You pouted slightly at his unaffected demeanour, your pink glossy lips tempting him to bite them. He was annoyed by the way you fluttered your eyes at him, acting as if you knew nothing about anything. It made him so angry that he wanted to rip off your pathetic excuse for clothes and rail you to the end. The thoughts which went through his mind every time he saw you would have him fired from the university, have his licence suspended.

"Here..." You pointed directly at your crotch, expecting him to be either flustered or disgusted. To your surprise, he smirked. "I understand what you are doing, Y/n," he said, shaking his head and dropping the honorific. He did not let you respond when he spoke again. "I must say, it is funny."

"What do you mean, doctor?" You asked innocently, but your heart raced as you wondered what he was thinking. "Nothing, are you sure your litte princess parts doesn't hurt because of taking the whole football team?" He questioned and your jaw dropped. He let out a snort at your expression "What? Am I lying?" His smirk widens when your face starts to turn red, burning in humiliation.

"Does your skirt length correspond to your level of comprehension? You dirty vulgar girl" He asked again degrading you. "Doctor....that's really mean of you! You are slut-shaming and y-you are insulting me." In reply, you stumbled over your words. "I'm not slut shaming you y/n. I'm simply stating out facts which I have heard around and which you have showed around me, how is that offensive, sweetheart?" He questioned amused, his cock twitched in his pants at the sight of your dumb expression. You were nothing but a dumb slut who could barely live her life without a cock. He noticed the way you rubbed your thighs together at the nickname he called you.

"The whole football team—hell, I do not even know their names, they did not sleep with me. Doctor Jay,how can you believe them?" You asked, your bottom lip quivering as you pouted at him. You were not so naive as to miss his taunts, but you were sick enough to take pleasure in the embarrassment he was causing you. Jay laughed because he thought you were cute and there were no rumours that you were sleeping with the whole football team. He made them up himself to see how smart you are, and you were clearly one of the dumbest girls he has ever met. Probably the sluttiest too.

Lucky for you, he loved sluts.

You did not have time to think when he lifted your skirt, revealing your drenched panties, which were stuck to your pussy lips. "I- Doctor Park, what the hell are you doing!" You yelled at him, attempting to push your skirt down, but he held it firmly between his fingers. "Stop pretending, baby; you have been doing this for weeks, trying to seduce me with your pathetic excuse of tops barely holding your saggy tits and these fucking skirts that keep getting shorter, coming to my office almost every day." He paused for a moment licking his lips at the sight of your soaked panties. "Did you enjoy the humiliation I put you through, y/n? it made your pussy throb, yeah?"

You let out a small moan and nodded desperately, letting your fake innocent demeanour slip as you grabbed his hand, which was holding the hem of your skirt and guiding it onto your cunt. "Please, Doctor Park, it hurts."

He chuckled in response, shaking his head slightly. "Well, as your doctor, I must investigate what is going on with you, princess." His eyes were filled with lust. He pushed his morality and principles to the back of his mind. Fuck, he needed your slutty pussy right now. It was the prettiest cunt he would ever see, and he was not going to pass up this opportunity to use you.

He removed his hand from your crotch and opened the drawer in front of him. You watched him with curiosity, desperate to get his fingers, mouth, and cock inside you right away. He shuffled through his belongings before reaching for a pair of white gloves and putting them on. Your eyes widened at his actions.

"Your little nasty pussy does not deserve to be touched by my bare hands." He spoke in a low deep voice earning a whine from you. "Fuck, look at those juices. You are such a shameless whore." You felt your insides twist at his tone change. He was such an unpredictable man with no filter, treating you in the most humiliating ways, which only made you want him more. You would let him do whatever he wanted with you. You were down bad for him.

Without any warning he inserted his gloved finger inside you, it went in so smoothly as you were completely drenched. "Are you enjoying this? How embarassing y/n, is this why you joined this university? To suck cocks? To have your little cunt pounded by everyone?" You didn't reply to any of his questions busy in pleasure be was giving you, letting out small whimpers. He added two more fingers, aggressively fingering you. The wet, gushing sounds filled the room: "Doctor Park... P-please. Want to feel your fingers." You begged, squirming around, getting closer to your high. He ignored your words and lifted your tube top above your stomach, exposing your belly button to him. "Would you like to be fucked there too?" He aggressively pushed his other hand's fingers inside your belly button. You give a squeak at the sensation, moaning like the whore you are.

Your cunt and belly button getting fingered by his thick fingers simultaneously, releasing waves of pleasures inside you. You were thrashing around uncontrollably, overcome with pleasure. "Calm down, slut. I'm just getting started. Turn around." He ordered and you complied feeling a bit disappointed that you didn't get to cum. "but I didn't..." He cut you off harshly after landing a slap on your pussy "Not everything is about you."

He stuck your underwear in a wedgie, and you winced at the burning sensation on your pussy lips. Without warning, he pulled the wedgie and snapped it back, causing you to let out a painful screech. "This is how dirty little girls like you deserve to be treated," he said before snapping the wedgie several more times. You thrashed around, biting your palm to muffle your voice. He eventually stopped his assault on your ass crack and removed your underwear. What further humiliated you was the way he held your underwear with just two fingers treating it like some dirty trash. "Put this drenched shit in your mouth so you'll keep your dumb mouth shut." He threw the underwear in your face, and you did as he said, shoving it inside your mouth. You could taste the sweetness of your juices inside your mouth.

You never knew being treated in such humiliating way would turn you on so much. "Fuck look at this ass" he grunted kneading the flesh in his gloved hands. His cock was about to burst through his trousers. He enjoyed treating you in this manner because that is what dumb little cock sluts like you deserve, constantly seducing people and putting their jobs in risk. You needed to be taught a lesson that would put you in your proper place.

He began spanking your ass harshly until you were numb, your moans muffled by your panties. "This. is. exactly what naughty girls like you deserve." He spat on your asshole making sure it's lubricated enough. "I have no intention of using your nasty pussy but this tight ass deserve to be pounded." He unbuckled his belt throwing it aside and letting his cock stand in all glory. You tried to turn back, to look at his cock but he smacked your ass again "Don't turn back. I don't wanna see your spit covered dirty face." He degraded you before lifting you by the stomach and placing you on your hands and knees.

He pushed his cock into your hole, letting out the most seductive moan that nearly made you cum. "Mhmm..." You let out a muffled moan, and despite the pain, you could not stop pushing back on his cock. He began to pound into you with great speed, his hips slamming into your bruised ass. The pain from the wedgie assault lingered, and him pushing his cock into your whole aggravated it.

"Messy dumb slut." He yanked your hair back, his hips moving with uncontrollable speed. "Fuck, this is what you wanted right? To be fucked by me? To be treated like nothing, you are truly shameful." His words kept pushing you to your edge. Jay bit his lip at your state, your plump ass looked so bruised. Your belly button was red from his assault. He felt all of his stress disappear as he fucked your ass. "Touch yourself for me, baby," he asked, and you began to rub your clit vigorously, feeling your high return, but before you could cum, he pulled out his cock and released himself over your ass. You took out the underwear from your mouth. "Doctor park, I couldn't cum." You whined, panting loudly. He didn't reply, taking his gloves out before disposing them into the trash can nearby.

"And? How is that my problem?" He asked cockily, sitting back in his chair, manspreading, his cock still out. "Doctor park that's not fair!" You yelled in frustration before crawling out of bed, landing on your knees. Jay bit his lip at your sight, you looked so desparate and filthy. "Suck my cock and make yourself cum, angel." He pushed his leather shoe on your clit. You immediately took his cock in your mouth slurping on it messy while grinding on his hoe. "You dirty insatiable girl!" He said chuckling at your messed up state pushing your mouth deeper onto his cock.

You were still grinding hard on his hoe, moaning on his cock and rubbing your covered breast against his leg. Lost in the blissful pleasure he was receiving from your sensual lips, he was letting out soft moans. You were truly like the wettest and the filthiest dream he ever had. You came on his shoe grinding like a whore and he pushed you back before spraying his cum on your top. You both took few minutes to catch your breath before he wore his pants back and glanced at your dumb state. "Get up." He gave the order, and you stumbled to your feet, drenched in sweat, saliva, and cum. "Pick your underwear and clean my shoe."

You obeyed his orders cleaning his shoe with your underwear "Wear them back." You were about to protest, but his one look stopped you, and you wore the dirty, completely drenched panties back. You felt so nasty yet so good. He pulled you onto his lap and pressed his lips against yours. You kissed him back, running your hand through his styled hair, messing it up. He patted your ass, breaking off the kiss. "You can rest on the bed while I bring you something to eat." He said, and you felt the heat rush back into your face as you nodded shyly. You laid back on the bed watching him collect his things. "Remember don't remove the underwear till your day ends, it will be a reminder for you to know what happens to naughty pretentious girls like you."

His words made you whine and nod submissively, "Perhaps I will use your little pussy next time, princess."

#enhypen smut #jay smut #enhypen jay smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #jay x you #jay x reader #kpop smut #dark enhypen

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ordowrites · 1 month

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When You Are Sick

because i am sick, i am gonna be self indulgent with this.

cw: fluff, mostly. afab reader but no pronouns are used, some pet names (precious, my fire). mdni, minors dni. purely self indulgent. i want diluc to fret over me ok

characters: diluc & arlecchino

diluc

he's worried, needless to say - you spikes a fever pretty quickly and he's trying to remain calm and stoic. hay fever is common or perhaps, it's the flu or something else. either way, he starts to worry when you reject food offered to you and he considers calling all the best doctors he can. whatever you wish at this point, it will he his command. medications, tea, softer blankets. anything to make sure you're comfortable and on the track to recovery.

"diluc," you mumble as you crack open an eye, his pacing giving you a worse headache. you cough a bit. he freezes, looks at you, probably mentally preparing for the worst. "if you want to help, stop... moving around in here." you roll over and sigh, coughing again and groaning.

"is there something i can get you? perhaps i can fetch a medic? run you a bath? my fire, please tell me what you need."

you let out a breath. a groan.

"can you cuddle with me?" you finally ask. he runs warm and right now, you feel cold. "play with my hair. anything to get you to stop pacing."

he thinks for a moment - you two have shared a bed many times but he still hesitates. but he finally climbs in, and you sigh, relaxing in his warmth as his fingers softly start to stroke your hair and rub your back. he revels in your soft hair, always finding new ways to think of you as perfect.

"how's this, my flame?"

"mm, perfect. as always."

ever the one to please you, he continues until he hears you breathing deeply - finally asleep, although fitful.

arlecchino

to say she is unhappy is incorrect - displeased? you're not sure. you can't read her, but her hand is cold against your clammy skin and she clicks her tongue.

"how do you feel, precious?"

"...horrible."

she sits down at the side of the bed, weight causing some movement. "unfortunate. i suppose we'll have to put our dinner plans on hold until further notice."

"'m sorry." you mumble, too tired to actually care. you sigh and lean in when she rubs her thumb on your cheek. "really. this is stupid."

"we all get sick, no need to fret." alrecchino says and your eyes slide shut briefly. you're awoken later to a smell and you groan, sitting up. she's back in your guys room with some soup. "can you sit up, precious? you need to eat."

oh, you'd actually fallen asleep. it's darker than before - save for some lit candles.

when you do sit up - hit by dizziness and nausea - you consider laying back down. you don't protest as she chooses to feed you, savoring each bite. afterwards, she makes you take a sip of some water and tells you to rest again. she'll be back in a little bit.

so you do, grateful for arlecchino's pampering and coddling. you think, briefly, that she's kissed you on the lips but brush it off as a feverish haze.

"we'll talk about your silly choice to be outside in the rain without being properly dressed when you feel better." she says before she leaves.

maybe you can play up being sick for a few extra days when you start to recover.

#genshin x reader #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc x y/n #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlecchino x y/n #mine.txt #ordo.txt #ordo.text #genshin arlecchino #diluc #genshin impact #genshin diluc #self indulgent #genshin imagines

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hearts-hunger · 3 months

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january blue || josh kiszka x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist | Cabin Fever Masterlist

Summary: You're sick, and Josh takes good care of you.

Pairings: Josh x Reader | Genre: fluff, h/c, sickfic | Word Count: 2k | Warnings: none!

A/N: Here's another one of those self-serving fics that I hope you like :) Also this is lowkey an ad for Netflix's “The Greatest Night in Pop” because that was a great documentary. Anyhoopla I hope you like it! ♡

“Sweet baby, when is your birthday again?”

You pulled your blank gaze from the waiting room wall, frowning a little as you looked over at Josh. It took you a second to think of a response; the fluorescents overhead were harsh, and everything seemed unnaturally bright under them. Josh held the pen poised and ready above the intake form, waiting for you to tell him your birthdate.

The uncomfortable vinyl chair creaked when you turned towards him. “You don't know my birthday?” you asked, unsure if you should be surprised by that. You were surprised, but you were also rather disoriented, so maybe it was a normal question for an attentive boyfriend to ask.

He cracked a smile, a welcome bit of tenderness in the cold, stark doctor’s office.

“I do,” he said. “I was only teasing.” He jotted it down along with your other details, taking care of the task for you as you sat in the waiting room together. It was sweet of him to do it and try to take your mind off things while he did, and it made the appointment seem a little less daunting.

“What are your symptoms?” he asked, writing down the ones he already knew. “Earache, sore throat, congestion?”

You nodded, covering your ear with your hand, careful of pressing too hard. “Dizziness, too. And a headache.”

“My poor baby,” he said sympathetically. He finished up the intake form. “Okay, honey. You’re all set.” He returned the clipboard to the front desk, taking your hand when he came back to sit next to you.

“What do you think?” he asked. His hair was a golden halo of soft curls, and it didn’t surprise you that even the awful atmosphere of the doctor’s office didn’t dim his warmth and cheerfulness. “Do you wanna read one of these magazines that have been here since the eighties? There’s probably some older ones if that sounds too modern.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I think I’m okay, thanks.”

He smiled. “Well, let me know if you change your mind.”

He pulled out his phone to answer a text from Danny; you rested your head on his shoulder, trying to ignore the persistent ache and the vaguely panicky feeling you always got at the doctor.

Josh gave you a quick smooch on your forehead. You smiled.

“What was that for?” you asked.

“Danny said to give you a get-well kiss,” he said. “So there you go.”

You cuddled closer to him. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“Of course, baby.” He pocketed his phone. “Thanks for asking me. I would have been sad to find out you went without me.”

You raised your head to look at him, a bemused smile crossing your face. “Why?”

He shrugged. “I know you don’t like the doctor, and I like to be with you for things that make you nervous, if I can. I’m glad you know you can ask me for help.”

Your smile was wobbly, then. “Aw, Joshy. I love you, you know.”

He gave you a sweet smile. “I love you too, baby. Hopefully we’ll be in and out, and then we can spend the rest of the day cuddled up on the couch. Sound good?”

“Sounds wonderful,” you said with a sigh.

You lost track of time in the waiting room, sucked into the weird vortex of discomfort and the smell of antiseptic, but eventually your name was called. Josh went with you, and though you might have felt a little embarrassed to be a grown woman with a personal escort to the doctor, you just didn’t have the energy to care. Besides, there was nothing wrong with having Josh with you, and you were glad you didn’t have to do it alone.

He waited patiently while you got your vitals checked, making jokes about your pulse being a little high with white coat syndrome. When the nurse left you alone in the room again, he gave you a thumbs up.

“You’re doing great, baby,” he said with a sweet smile. “I bet you’re the best patient they’ve had all day.”

“I do my best,” you said. You fidgeted on the table, the paper crinkling under you. “Can we get coffee after this?”

“Sure, honey. Whatever you want.”

You gave him a teasing smile. “Whatever I want, huh? Could you strip naked right now and do the hula for me?”

He laughed, and the warm sound of it took the edge off the chill of the sterile room.

“Maybe not whatever you want,” he corrected. He stood and came over to the exam table, giving your thigh a comforting pat. “But I think I can handle coffee.”

You winced and tilted your head as you felt a sharp pain go from your ear all the way down your neck. Josh gently covered the spot with his warm hand, and you leaned into his touch.

“There’s this new documentary on Netflix,” you said, trying to distract yourself from the ache. “About the night they got the supergroup together for ‘We Are The World’.”

“I saw the trailer,” he agreed. He slowly ran his fingers over your fevered skin. “You want to watch that when we get home?”

“Sure. We can make a roster of who should be in the next version with you guys.”

He smiled. “Okay, baby. I’d like that.” A sympathetic frown tugged at his features when you grimaced again.

“I'm sorry you don't feel good, honey,” he said. “I know a jacked up ear isn't very fun.”

You breathed a laugh. “I shouldn't complain. Your whole eardrum exploded, so mine’s easy in comparison.”

He chuckled. “Are we in a competition for worst ear injury? That's kinda weird, even for us.”

You leaned your head against his, thankful for the way he comforted you and made you smile without even trying.

He pulled back when the door handle turned, and gave your hand a squeeze before he took his seat again. The doctor gave you a quick exam, confirming an ear infection secondary to a sinus infection, and prescribed you a round of antibiotics.

Josh got you squared away at the desk before you left, and you were content to let him do the talking as the pain started to catch up with you. He led you out to the car, getting you settled in the passenger seat before he got in himself.

“Still feel up for coffee?” he asked.

You curled up in a pitiful little ball. “Yes, please. But maybe I’ll get the Medicine Ball instead.”

He kept one hand on your thigh as he drove, and you half dozed with your hands wrapped around the wonderfully warm Starbucks cup. He ran into the store to pick up your prescription and a few other things, and though he’d promised to be quick, he was gone longer than you’d expected.

“Where did you go?” you said, an irritated, petulant tone creeping into your voice. “The Bermuda Triangle?”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said sincerely, putting the bags in the back of the Jeep. “The pharmacy line was super long. I guess I should have taken you home and come back out for your medicine.”

You softened, feeling a little guilty. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be grumpy with you when you're running around doing everything for me.”

He touched a hand to your cheek. “You don’t have to apologize, baby. I know you don't feel good. I understand if you’re grumpy.”

You held his hand and kept it pressed to your cheek for a moment. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, baby. Let’s get you home, okay?”

At home, he got your medicine and some painkillers into you before he ran you a bath. He sat on the edge of the tub, brushing your hair back from your face.

“I think you’ll feel better if you have a nap, baby,” he said, keeping his voice quiet. “Do you want to eat something before you lay down?”

You shook your head. “I don’t really have an appetite.”

“I understand. I’d like you to try and eat a little something, though, just so the medicine doesn't make you sick. How about some soup?”

You looked up at him. “Can you do the spinach and rice one Jake makes?”

He nodded slowly. “Uh... yes. I think so.” You laughed when he pulled out his phone to ask his brother for the recipe.

He pressed a kiss to your hair. “Let me go get it cooking,” he said. “You enjoy your bath.”

You gratefully sank into the warm water, letting it soothe your aches until you felt all jellied and tired. Still, you were reaching the edge of your tolerance for the consistent pain; you knew the Tylenol had to be kicking in soon, but until it did, you were steadily getting more outdone with feeling so miserable. You hardly spoke when Josh came to help you out and brought you warm pajamas, and he watched you with worry as he steered you to the couch.

You winced when the pain spiked suddenly. “Oh my god, ow.”

Josh pulled back from you. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“No. My stupid ear.” You gingerly pressed your hand to it, close to tears with frustration and discomfort. You looked pitifully up at him. “It hurts, Joshy.”

“I know, baby,” he said gently. “I’m sorry. What can I do?”

You shook your head, unable to think of anything, even if there was anything he could do. He just pulled you close and held you in a safe, steady hug, and it was exactly what you needed.

“My sweet baby,” he said softly. “I’m so sorry you’re hurting.”

A few tears spilled over, and you buried your face against his chest.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said in a small voice.

“Honey,” he soothed. “You’re welcome. You don't have to thank me. I wish I could do more to help.”

You hugged him tighter, resting in his warmth and closeness. “You’re perfect, Josh.”

He rested his head against yours and rocked you gently. “I love you, my sweet girl.”

When the uptick in pain finally subsided, maybe because the medicine had finally kicked in, you let yourself be settled on the couch in a nest of pillows. Josh covered you with every fuzzy blanket he could find until you were practically buried in them.

“Joshy,” you giggled.

He smiled. “There’s that sweet laugh,” he said tenderly. “I missed it. What’s got you so tickled?”

You tried to lift your arms under the blankets. “I’m gonna be trapped in here.”

He chuckled. “It’s my master plan. Keep you wrapped up in blankets so you can never escape me.”

“I don’t want to escape you.”

“Just making sure.” He held your face in his hands and gave you kiss after kiss after kiss, each one sweet and gentle and joyful. “I love you very much, you know.”

You gave him a bashful smile. “Yeah, I know.”

You had dinner — Josh had replicated Jake’s recipe perfectly, which he insisted was thanks to his twin’s detailed instructions — and watched the documentary about the recording of ‘We Are The World’. The two of you spent a while listing people you wanted in your supergroup to play with Greta Van Fleet.

“I want Noah Kahan and Gregory Alan Isakov,” you said.

Josh nodded sagely. “I see the vision. We should get Labi Siffre too.”

“Can we go back in time and get John Denver?” you asked.

He smiled. “Yes. I’m making that executive decision. Because I want to grab the original lineup of Fairport Convention.”

“So... we’re doing a folk rock version, then?”

He hummed in agreement. “And we make friends with everybody, and it’s the number one single in the world, and it’s your favorite song that we’ve ever done.”

You laughed and cuddled against him when he pulled you close.

He ran his hand up and down your arm. “I'm glad you’re feeling a little better, honey.”

You gave a contented sigh. “Me too.”

It had started to rain when you got home, and there was still a gentle, steady drumbeat on the roof that matched the hazy blue wash against your windows. Josh held you close and told you about what they’d worked on in the studio, and before long, the warmth of his voice and the sound of the rain worked as surely as a lullaby to pull you towards sleep.

Josh brushed his thumb over your cheek. “You’re so beautiful, baby,” he said softly.

You tilted your face up for a kiss, and he obliged you. He was all love and gentleness and warmth, as he always was, and you melted into his touch.

“You love me lots, don’t you?” you asked.

“Yes, baby. Lots and lots.”

“Oh good,” you said, cosy and sleepy and content in the safety of his arms. “I love you lots too.”

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@gvfrry@ohhey1293@the-chaotic-cow@mountain-in-springtime@xserenax-13@stardustjtk @brooke-gvf@weightofdreams-gvf@jakeydoesit @hayley1623@doodle417@finestoflines@brokenbellz@bowievanfleet@s0livagant@strugglingtodoshit@s-u-t@kay-jordan@gretavanfleas@jakeyboiiiiiii@gretavansteph@gretavanbitches@myownparadise96@luverleaver@weightofdreamz@greatervanfleet@maedesculpaeusoubi@jakekiszkasbestie@pineapple-photographer@baguettejuliette@alexxavicry@levi-wants-ur-bones@carlybubs@cowboysamkiszka@dannyandthekiszkas@jordierama@slutforsteve@starshine-wagner@quartzzzzzzz@edgeofdreams@writingcold@lostoverseer@catharu77@mackalah@jaketlove@haileygvf@blacksoul-27@ur-m0ms-blog@hi-hi-hello11@wildbluesorbit @nessie-glorpa @laneygvf@madneedshelp@dreamsingxld

#i've been in such a writing slump but hey leave it to josh and baby to get me out of it :))#greta van fleet fanfiction #gvf fanfiction #gvf fluff #josh kiszka x reader #josh x baby #maddie writes stuff!

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bluehourbucky · 1 year

Text

Team Work

pairing: Steven Grant x f!reader; Marc Spector x reader; Jake Lockley x reader

summary: your boys help take care of you when you get sick

italics are the moon boys talking to each other

a/n: first time writing for moon boys please be nice. Also would appreciate any tips of how to write for moon knight and the boys <3 if you have any please comment or send them in my asks :)

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Oh no, you thought when you woke up with a runny nose and a sneeze. You turned around to see if you had woken up your boyfriend. Luckily, you didn't. He has a day off so he can sleep a little longer. You're not even sure when they arrived last night, so you were careful to get out of the bed as quietly as possible.

As you were getting ready for work, you felt a little dizzy. Maybe it's nothing, you lied to yourself. You really didn't need a cold or something right now, you were saving your free days to go on a vacation with your boys.

"Love?"

"Shit" you whisper, Steven is going to notice immediately that you're not feeling well, not that Marc or Jake wouldn't it's just harder to convince Steven not to worry.

"Love, you alright?" you hear him coming to the bathroom. He comes in and hugs you from behind, puts his head on your shoulder and kisses your neck.

"I'm fine! Just didn't sleep well last night, you should go back to bed!" Steven looks in the mirror, probably talking to Marc or Jake.

"She's hiding something. Ask her again." Marc scolds Steven, and Steven rolls his eyes.

"Darling, are you sure? What's going on?" Steven stops you, one hand on your arm, and the other is lifting your chin, so you look at him.

Right as you were about to answer, you sneeze into your elbow, which then turns into a coughing fit. Steven caresses your back softly, waiting for you to stop.

"I'm okay." You sniff, looking for toilet paper to blow your nose.

"Marc says you're not, and that you're staying home today, and Jake agrees. And I agree with that, my love, I bet you're burning up."

You knew they were right, so you didn't put up a fight when Steven made you change back into your pajamas and call in sick at work.

"Stay." Steven, tucks you in and orders you to stay in bed, you have a tendency to get up and follow him when you're sick.

"Steven let me switch with you, I wanna take care of my baby."

"Not a chance, I want to do it"

Steven pushes Marc away, set on a mission to make you a hot cup of tea and a soup. He makes you take your temperature, and you in fact do have a fever.

"Steven. Now." Marc is becoming impatient he wants to help but Steven is being stubborn as always.

"I want to help too."

Great, now Jake also wants to help, so Steven has to fight them both for control. He hates to admit it, but you being sick sometimes can be the best time to be with you. You become so cuddly and clingy, and Steven relishes in those moments when you need him. Unfortunately, he's not the only one.

"Here you go, love." Steven helps you sit up and feeds you the soup, then he gives you some medication for your very high fever. He can't believe you almost went to work.

"Thank you." You sniff, and your boyfriend gives you a sympathetic look. You know you probably shouldn't have pulled Steven into bed with you and then laid on his chest, but it's the best spot for sleeping.

"I love you." Stevens heart skips a beat whenever you tell him that. He holds you tighter and then he starts playing with your hair which makes you relax completely.

"This is not fair! You took care of her last time! You can't do this." Marc knows it's stupid to be jealous yet he is but so is Jake.

"Marc's right! Should be my turn by now!"

"You're giving me a headache!" Steven accidentally yells out, which makes you jump.

"Sorry, darling, didn't mean to say that out loud."

"What are you guys fighting about now?" you ask, its easy to tell when they're in a disagreement. They all show it differently, but you know. Right now, Steven is pouting.

"You're not fighting about taking care of me again? Are you? We talked about this."

"Uhh Marc has something to say."

Seriously!???

"Hi babe." Marc is cursing Steven in his head for leaving him to make an excuse.

"We just want to take care of you, and well, I think we all enjoy your attention a little too much when you're like this. And also last time you were sick, Steven did everything and didnt let us help. Don't want you thinking that I don't want to take care of you. "

Doing a great job Marc now she'll think we like it when she's sick!

"Marc, you don't have to worry about that. I know that you're all there for me whenever I need you. I love you. And also you work best as a team."

She's right.

Of course she is. Okay let's do this as a team.

And they do. Steven makes you tea, Marc cuddles you to sleep, Jake wakes you up to give you medicine and so on. You're back in full health in no time.

A week later, Steven comes from the museum with a fever. No surprise, of course, he spent most of the time with you in bed.

[The End]

hope you enjoyed <3

likes reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

#steven grant one shot #steven grant x reader #steven grant #moon knight #marc spector #jake lockley #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #steven grant fluff #marc spector fluff #marvel imagine #moon knight x reader

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zuhuan · 6 months

Text

BSD men x sick S/O

Characters: Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Chuuya Nakahara, Akutagawa Ryunosuke

Summary: The reader gets sick and their loved one takes care of them.

Genre: comfort, sickness

COMISSIONS -> open

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Dazai Osamu:

• Dazai is the type in situations like this to use the fact that you're sick to his advantage so he doesn't have to work.

• Even if you tell him that you can handle this on your own and take care of yourself, he won't let you. He enjoys being able to finally take care of his only little one. He will take care of you with love and care.

• He is not afraid that he might catch the cold from you (if that happens, at least he wouldn't have to work). But luckily, your boyfriend has a strong immune system.

• He is a real red flag in this situation. He will do everything you ask him to do. He wraps you in lots of blankets from the cold, makes you a hot tea and you go to bed together to watch movies. He is a bit skeptical about medicines, he doesn't want any side effects to occur, so he carefully reads all the information. When he notices that you are tired or have a headache because of your fever, he immediately stops everything and takes you to sleep (even if you don't want to).

• He himself lies down in your shared bed and wraps his arms around you, holding you close and you go on an adventure together into the world of dreams. Because of the warmth of its body, you don't feel cold and it even provides you with comfort.

• He doesn't want you to do anything strenuous until you're completely fine, he won't rush your recovery from the cold. But as soon as you get well and return to everyday life with full strength, the night walks together will start again.

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Fyodor Dostoevsky:

• Oh God, Fyodor hates being sick because his immune system is weak and he hates it even more when you catch a cold. Since he has anemia it can make him constantly dizzy, constant naenous, it also lowers your immune system so he gets sick faster.

• He will take care of you and support you, but he will keep his distance because he doesn't want to be sick. He will probably call Nikolai or Sigma for help. He will do his best to help you while keeping his distance. He makes hot soup for you (just imagine Fyodor in the kitchen trying to make a simple soup, he can be very cute). He would make sure that you didn't run out of hankies, medicine, tea or anything else you needed, but if it did happen, he would immediately go and buy it all.

• When you are about to sleep or are already sleeping, he would be in the room with you, just to keep you safe and make sure everything is okay. Fyodor feels very uncomfortable and guilty that he cannot fully take care of you due to his illness. Of course, if you were very sick and could not rely on anyone else, he would take care of you himself. He wouldn't care if he got sick, he would do anything for you. But if this can be avoided to prevent a cold, he will take the opportunity.

• He would let you lie on top of him and fall asleep on him. While you sleep on your boyfriend, he would stare at you with admiration and gently caress your face to soothe you. When you have a terrible headache (but he notices this sooner), he hugs you to his chest and kisses your forehead until you fall asleep in his arms.

• All in all, Fyodor is trying to do his best in two ways so that his darling will get better as soon as possible.

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Chuuya Nakahara:

• When you call Chuuya that you have a cold so you stay at home and can't go to work, he gets really scared. He tries to get home to you as soon as possible (he overreacts a little). No matter how much you tell him it's just a cold, he doesn't care. Mori and the entire hospital are on the phone ready to call. Before going home to you, he asks for some advice and ideas from the head of the port mafia so that he can take care of you as best as possible. On the way home, he stops by to buy everything you need for your recovery.

• When Chuuya gets home, he enters your shared apartment, immediately goes up to you and kisses you. Of course, you push him away from you because you don't want him to catch the cold from you and you tell him that when you get better you will kiss him again, but he kisses you even more aggressively. He thoroughly asks you everything about how you feel and things like that. While you and Chuuya were talking, he prepares the medicines and a hot chocolate for you to take before you go to sleep (totally the husband type). He checks every hour whether your fever has increased or not.

• Chuuya loves to baby you and in these situations he will be very protective and you will be the only one for him during this time. He even prepares you a hot bath, with scented candles, roses and a glass of wine for the two of you. While you are bathing, he stands behind the closed door and makes sure that if you ask him for something or if something goes wrong, he is there for you immediately. If you ask if he wants to bathe with you, he will happily join you.

• He tries his best to make you feel comfortable and safe with him.

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Akutagawa Ryunosuke:

• At first, he doesn't really care that you have a cold. But when he sees that you can't even do everyday things because you're so weak, he panics. He doesn't really know how to handle a person with a cold, but he tries. He asks Mori what to do with a sick person, and takes all the advice Mori gives him.

• He would be too helpful and caring for you, he would brush your teeth, wash your hair and even help you take a bath. He is very afraid that he will not be able to give you enough during this time.

• For him, it feels very bad to hear you cough, because if anyone knows how painful it can be, it's him. He would prepare soup for you with his minimal cooking skills (his skills stop at instant noodles), but he would prepare it for you with great love. When you tell him you have a headache, he tries to coerce you in as many ways as possible. He makes a warm bed for the two of you out of blankets and pillows, and there in his arms while he caresses your back and whispers in your ear some sweet things, he tries to distract your mind from the pain. If by chance your fever goes up very quickly, he would first panic and search on the Internet for what to do in such a case (he can hardly read it because he is trembling with the fear of losing his only precious doll).

• Akutagawa always tries to learn as much as possible from current situations, as he wants to keep you completely safe. He tries very hard and loves you terribly even at this time. Forehead kisses, cuddling and random hugs from behind are essential for him.

• I think you would be in good hands with him, despite the fact that things started off a bit difficult with him at the beginning.

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guacamoleroll · 9 months

Text

𝖙𝖆𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖆 𝖘𝖎𝖈𝖐 𝖘/𝖔 「𝔣𝔶𝔬𝔡𝔬𝔯 𝔡𝔬𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔢𝔳𝔰𝔨𝔶」 ༉‧₊˚

from anonymous ⇢ "could you write some hc's about fyodor taking care of a sick s/o? love your work btw!"

content. gn!reader. illnesses (implied pneumonia and influenza), hurt/comfort, dizziness, badly translated russian, cute little headcanons. not proofread. 1.8k+ words.

author's note. thank you for the request! i've been in a bit of a writer's funk lately, so hopefully my little ramblings are good ٩(*•͈ ꇴ •͈*)و ̑̑❀

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

synopsis. it had been the perfect day for enjoying the sunshine, only for you to succumb to the symptoms of an unknown illness. unluckily for you, fyodor is gone on a mission, so it's time to fend for yourself.

You had been stuck home for weeks, only allowed to leave for groceries and emergencies. Fyodor was away on a dangerous mission inside the city and wanted to ensure that you were safe and sound at home. It was reassuring to receive letters from him since he was close by, but you had started to succumb to cabin fever.

But tomorrow was supposed to be the perfect day.

You took a cursory peek at the weather the night before, pleased to find local climate conditions suitable for finishing your chores while soaking up some sun. It had been either too hot or too rainy for you to leave the house, but tomorrow would provide the prime opportunity to embrace some fresh air.

But it was not meant to be.

"God," you hissed, stretching your disjointed limbs when the sun blinded you as it peeked between the shutters. Weather conditions were perfect, but it seemed your body raised another issue. Your muscles ached with each pop of your joints — strange, but you assumed you had slept wrong. And then your head began to throb. It was small at first but only increased in pressure and annoyance as the day continued. Your throat was the worst of it, an unfluctuating burning sensation aggravating your nerves every time you swallowed.

You originally wrote off these symptoms — the shift of weather probably had a negative effect on your body. It was nothing some good-ol’ fashioned pain medication couldn’t fight off. A minor cold or headache would be manageable as long as you didn’t strain yourself too much, and you refused to dampen such nice weather, so you trekked onward.

The beginning of your day started in the garden, your fingers fast at work toiling with weeds and watering plants. However, the elevated sensation of spasms crawled up the muscles of your arm, making your fingers twitch with every movement. You fussed, massaging your palm with your fingers, and decided that you had enough gardening for the day — there was no way you could continue in this condition.

So instead, you embraced the brush of air-conditioning against your sweat-slicked skin, sliding the door shut unceremoniously as you trudged your way over to the kitchen counter. A mound of paperwork loomed ahead, awaiting examination and signatures. It seemed like Fyodor reveled in giving you these menial tasks, either to add or to evade your boredom. You shuffled through the top of the stack, carrying a bundle to sit next to the conditioning unit — otherwise, you’d be tempted to stick ice cubes against your skin to relieve the heat-based dizziness that stirred the neurons of your brain.

Tick. Tick.

The clock clicked onward, and you found your hands more cramped and your eyes more and more strained. Even paperwork had become an arduous task, your muscles twinging with pins and needles in the frigid air. So after you signed your name for what seemed like the thousandth time, you placed the pen and papers on the floor and called it a day. You weren’t getting anything else done in this position, and you honestly did not want to be awake for this day any longer.

It seemed to be one of those days, days when the world mocked your misery with its delightful weather, watching in humor as you stumbled over your own feet to crawl away from its intense gaze. You burrowed into the sheets like a rabbit, the cotton comforter cocooning around your body, substituting the presence of your missing lover. The scent of pine permeated from the sheets — you had sprayed the bed each morning with cologne whenever Fyodor was away — as your muscles unwound, eyes fluttering shut as a tiny smile graced your features.

But the nap did not help.

Instead of arising from your bed with a sense of refreshment and relief, the pounding of your skull ran tremors through your body. Your vision had split into blurred shards of light, hands shaking as you guided yourself into the bathroom. You placed a thermometer against your forehead after a quick rummage through your drawers, leaning against the wall as you waited for the beep. Your legs wobbled as you fought back sleep, wincing when the thermometer rang.

102.2°F.

That was pretty damn high.

Body temperature was the most concerning aspect of your condition, and most of your other symptoms would leave if you had taken care of it, so you focused on that first. After waddling into the kitchen, you strained to reach for a cup inside the kitchen cabinet to fill with water. The entire process became more tedious than usual, and the water splashing against your hands only made your fingers cramp. You popped the medication cap open, downing the pills and chugging the water with conviction before slamming the cup onto the counter.

You stumbled your way into the living room., throwing yourself on the couch as your legs gave up underneath you. Your feet toyed with a blanket on the end, flicking it across your body as you struggled to find the proper ratio for the best cooling effect. It became an on-again, off-again struggle before you gave up, groaning into the scratchy decorative pillow under your head.

Each breath was a struggle, the pressure on your chest acting like a lead weight slowly sinking under the water. You braced yourself on your back, feeling the expansion and contraction of your chest with your hands, fearing that if you stopped tracking each breath, you would stop breathing entirely.

Shit.

The world went hazy, black dots crawling at the edges of your vision.

Creak!

You moaned, clutching onto the pillow as you covered your ears to shield them from the obtrusive sound. The footsteps that began to enter the room paused before someone rushed to your side. That same person seemed to be talking to you — yes, you knew they had to be — a hand guiding you to sit straight and a gentle voice coaxing your eyes open. It was difficult to see who it was, but that velvety Russian accent made it easier.

"F-Fyodor," you mumbled, squinting at him through clouded eyes. He leaned your body against the back of the couch, kissing your forehead to feel for your temperature. His brow furrowed, eyes examining your body as it tremoured with chills.

If he had known about this, he would’ve returned sooner.

"Я тут, Я тут. Ты не один, любимая . Я тут."

The moment he strides through the doorway and spots your doubled-over body on the couch, he’ll assess the situation and act with precision. He is an intelligent man, which makes his first instinct to address the issues he can and find the fastest way to cool you down. And knowing him, he would be able to identify your specific ailment with around 95% accuracy.

He may not be a medical professional, but he is well-read and has extensive knowledge of human biological makeup and anatomy. He would also have access to your medical records (whether you know it or not) — it makes it easier for him to look after you, but he’ll never tell you that.

So his first priority is both bringing your temperature down and stabilizing you. He will refresh the sheets inside your bedroom (smirking at the familiar scent of cologne), laying you down with a cool rag on your forehead. Any time you wake up, you are guaranteed to have water situated inches away from your face. Despite your sore throat, he will not allow you to gargle any salt water. He doesn’t want you to get any more dehydrated.

"You need to drink, мышка. You won’t get better if you're dehydrated."

Your entire bedroom will have turned into a cozy den, allowing you to rest without going completely stir-crazy. A heating pad would lie beneath your back, and a humidifier would be adjusted near your face to clear out your lungs — that’s one of the things that worried him the moment he walked through the door. He was concerned you were slowly suffocating, which he knows is one of the worst ways to go.

He would also massage your sore muscles. Enjoy this treatment while it lasts because he wouldn’t normally do this when you were fully cognizant. He is a bit softer to you in this state because it reminds him of the fragility of the human body. He often forgets (more like doesn’t take into consideration) that his own body is weakened due to his anemia, so this is an excellent wake-up call.

You are going to have a rare chance to eat his food! Fyodor is usually too busy to make any meals, so you have the prime opportunity to enjoy some classic Russian dishes — delicious sour rassolnik and hearty solyanka soups, perfect for soothing your throat and filling your stomach.

After all of this, he would force you to take a bath — but at a lukewarm temperature to ensure you wouldn’t worsen your fever. He would want to get rid of any germs as soon as possible, so he’d make sure that every inch of your body is scrubbed down.

And if you aren’t married, he will not get in the tub with you. He is a traditional man (i.e., no sex until after marriage, etc.), and he is already pushing it by helping you bathe in the first place — because as much as this man secretly loves your body, he has to "maintain the sanctity of your relationship." Though the entire experience would make him think twice about waiting to get married.

If you are married, he might get in the tub with you if you insist. He finds that he can’t say no to you as efficiently when you’re in this much pain, and you both enjoy the feeling of being so close to one another.

He would still sleep in the same bed as you, but he won’t do any sort of cuddling (not that he does it much in the first place). At most, he’ll hold your hand as you fall asleep, letting you know that he’s there. He’d also read to you if you were struggling with sleeping, ensuring that you get a proper night’s rest.

It is rare to see this man taking care of you in a non-discrete way, so revel in it while it lasts. He will maintain a calm composure throughout the duration of your sickness, but he is genuinely worried for your health. He hates seeing you in pain, and he will do anything to ease it.

For the following weeks, he would not allow you to exert yourself until you have fully recovered. If he sees you overworking yourself, you are immediately chastised and sent back to bed.

"Приле́чь, любимая моя. Ты нужда́ешься в о́тдыхе."

He makes sure to set up a system so that he’ll be notified whenever you’re sick, which could be from having a co-worker monitor you (though he doesn’t like the idea of anyone besides himself having eyes on you) or setting up a camera system in your home. He wants to be aware whenever you’re sick so that, at the very least, he can be prepared for when he arrives back home.

"Идти́ спать, мой Дорогая. Я буду здесь, когда ты проснешься."

мышка = mouse я тут, я тут. ты не один, любимая. я тут. = i’m here, i’m here. you’re not alone, my love. i’m here. приле́чь, любимая моя. ты нужда́ешься в о́тдыхе. = lie down, my love. you need rest. идти́ спать, мой дорогая. я буду здесь, когда ты проснешься. = go to bed, my dear. i'll be here when you wake up.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @imhandicapableofmath @seisitive

#muse's anthology ‧₊˚ ⋅#starring: fedya .ೃ࿐#gn!reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #fyodor bsd #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #from: anon .ᐟ

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sanhwaism · 9 months

Text

MEET UP FOR A COFFEE AND A SMILE | C.S

pairing ⟡ bf .ᐟ choi san x gn .ᐟ reader

synopsis ⟡ feeling overwhelmed because of stressful events and built up emotions, your thoughtful boyfriend wants to melt away all of your problems in his own, sweet way.

genre ⟡ fluff, romance, established relationship

warnings ⟡ mentions of dealing with anxiety attack, pet names, juuust a sickening amount of fluff because san is just too cute to handle and i just wanna eat him

wc ⟡ 2.1k

author's note ⟡ my first ever written scenario wooo !! got suddenly struck by a spark of inspiration while listening to one day at a time, that song feels like the warmest hug :,) hope you'll enjoy it!!

letting out a loud sigh, you push the entry's door closed with your hip, too focused on untying your shoelace to bother. today felt like a fever dream, emphasis on 'fever', because you feel like you're dealing with one. plus a terrible, terrible headache, the main cause of your deep frowning.

a groan escapes your lips soon as you straighten your back, the sudden movement making you dizzy. you close your eyes and stay still for a brief moment, your mind being kind enough to remind you of the anxiety attack you dealt with today.

besides your part time job that has been stressing you a lot lately, the cherry on top is the finals season. you had to split yourself in half so you could manage your time for both studying and working. you told yourself that you can do it, your san also has been providing you with his encouraging words, love and attention.

yet today felt like you couldn't bear that struggle anymore, that insufferable weight on your shoulders, which had you locked in your job's place bathroom. you didn't call san. no, you didn't want to worry him, especially knowing he has a busy schedule today.

after a few 'you're fine' and 'it's okay' whispered to yourself and trying to regulate your quick breathing and heart palpitations while feeling fatigued and uneasy, it seemed that you calmed down a bit. but your whole body has been feeling weak the rest of the evening. fortunately, you're home now. away from your job. and you only have one more exam left.

"everything is going to be alright by the end of all of this, jagi, i promise you this. you're doing great. you have me, i got you."

his healing words echo in your ears like sweet honey and you feel the corners of your lips rise and your body slowly relax after you threw yourself on the couch with a loud thump. as if he is connected to you and what's going on inside your mind, you hear your phone ring. you can't help but let out a soft chuckle as you answer the call.

"how do you manage to always do it, sannie?" you sigh, closing your eyes in content.

you hear some fidgeting and a car passing by, signs that he just ended his rehearsals, then his usual, sweet tone but with a tint of worry in his voice.

"baby? do what? are you okay?" you swear you can see his concerned expression just from the way he asked you those questions.

"i'm... yeah. i mean, i feel better now, that's what matters," you mutter, absently playing with the hem of your shirt.

a slight pause before san speaks again, this time clearly distraught. "oh, no, what happened aegiya? want me to come over?"

his cute way of calling you baby makes your heart flutter. you instantly shake your head in denial even if he can't see it.

"no, love, it's late and you probably just finished the dancing practice. that and also the fact that i barely have the energy to talk or exist... i'm so tired, sannie." your drowsy voice made san pout. his chest was suddenly feeling heavy and all he wanted to do was to offer a safe space for you to let everything out. to have his arms tightly wrapped around you, to pamper your face with his affectionate kisses. to have your head laying on his shoulder or chest just the way you like it, because his warmth and presence feel like home to you.

but he despises pushing your boundaries. even if he believes the best thing to do right now is being next to you, it does not match with your needs at the moment. and he will always listen to you over his distressed state and his anxious overthinking. what is truly important to both of you is, at the end of the day, to find each other's tender embrace, to be ready to face the worst of this world together.

with a low exhale, san gets inside the car, in the backseat while waiting for mingi.

"i know, angel, i know you are," his comforting voice and words brought tears to your eyes. "okay, i will let you rest. we don't have to talk about this now. but can you promise me one thing? one small, veeery tiny thing?"

you hum, already half asleep on the couch, still dressed in work clothes.

"allow me to be your anchor tomorrow morning. it's finally the weekend, i can come by your place and help you relax, even just a bit. this way we both can rest tonight and start tomorrow fresh."

oh, that's a bold lie. he will definitely not sleep at all because of how worried he is for you. absolutely not. no matter how tight he will hug the plushie you bought him a few months ago, imagining that it's you he's cuddling. but that's a problem for future san.

"mm, of course baby. thank you... for being so understanding," you let out a small yawn. "please rest, yeah?"

"i love you."

both of you speak in the same time and can't help but giggle together, san feeling rather shy at the other end of the call. after a few seconds, he starts humming for you, his feathery singing voice lulling you to sleep. he rests his cheek in his palm while looking at the dark sky through the car's window. a few stars are visible, shining in a way that comforts him. because he is relieved you are at least safe and sound at home and under the same sky as him. and while attentively listening to your steady breathing, he knows everything will be okay. he will always reassure you of that.

the early morning finds you in a deep, peaceful slumber. lucky for you because you didn't have to move, san had a copy of your apartment's keys and used them to get inside as quietly as possible. your catlike curled up position made him close his eyes shut in an almost failed attempt to control his squeal because of how adorable you look. taking off his hood and not leaving you out of his sight, he silently rests himself on the end support of the couch.

you softly huff and open your eyes. a familiar, gentle touch on your forehead makes you shift positions, turning your body towards your lover, arms clinging onto him like you haven't seen him in ages. you hear san's endearing chuckle as your head finds his lap, your cheek nuzzling against the soft material of his sweatpants.

"good morning, jagi." he whispers, leaning over so he can offer you a tender kiss on your temple.

"hi, 'morning," you purr, voice hoarse because you just woke up. "what time is it?"

you manage to move closer to him, hugging his waist and san felt like melting on the spot, right there and then. you are indeed very dangerous for his heart, yet he never wants you to stop causing him so many palpitations.

"it's still early, don't worry. i just couldn't bear leaving you alone anymore," he admits with his well known pout, which causes your lips to curl up into a lazy smile. as much as you love how clingy san is, you appreciate that he offered you the space you needed last night. you knew he wanted to desperately rush here, but he controlled himself. and that makes you forever grateful for his caring nature, putting you above everything.

"thanks for last night, really," you murmur, face resting against the pocket of his hoodie.

"shh, of course. it's the least i could do for you. i'll always try my best to be there when you need me. how are you feeling? and be honest, don't lie to me jagiya," he gently scolds you, knowing you tend to pretend that everything is fine in order not to bother him with your problems. but you promised to each other to try being more open about this, both you and san valuing communication the most.

"i really, really needed this sleep," you choose to tell him about yesterday's happening. "i had an anxiety attack at work, things just got too much for me to handle."

san looks down at you and hums, nodding in an understanding manner as his hand caresses the top of your head. his first, impulsive reaction would be to get all upset and to question you about your lack of calls regarding him, but how was that supposed to help you? the least thing he wants is to make you feel bad or invalidate your feelings. san is more than sure you are capable of handling yourself, you have shown him countless of times how strong and admirable you are. he looks up to you, always. but it's normal to feel helpless sometimes, and he wants to be your comforting mountain, for you to rely on him, to help you see the light at the end of the tunnel when darkness seems to take over. seeing you without that sparkle in your eyes crushes him, aches him more than any physical pain can.

"i'm relieved you're feeling better now. i am so, so proud of you for calming yourself down," it's all he softly says and cuddles you closer in his strong arms. while rocking both of you from left to right, he tells you about his morning plans, which includes you. "i was thinking of bringing back that pretty smile of yours that i aaaabsolutely adore with a cup of coffee, what do you say, hm? we can go get some breakfast as well. then we can spend the rest of the day however you want. how's that sound?"

"very, very nice," you reply, smiling at the thought of enjoying san's presence and spending time with him for a whole day.

"ah, perfect then," he nods happily, patting your hip. "when was the last time you ate?"

you tuck your lips. the sudden silence makes san dramatically gasp, still waiting for a response.

you exhale, trying to remember. "yesterday...? yesterday at lunch." you see him with the corner of your eye starting to shake his head, all sulky.

"no, no, my dearest right here needs to eat," he says and immediately begins to cover your face with his soft kisses, receiving a lot of giggles from you. his warm, minty breath tickles your cheeks and makes you squirm in his hug, trying to escape from his pampering but secretly enjoying it. his dimpled smile softens you, and you find yourself getting up with a sudden urge to kiss him.

with your hands gently cupping his face, you lean forward and press your lips against his, the unforeseen action causing san's eyes to widen before allowing himself to get weak under your loving touch. his arms tighten around your waist as he shyly kisses you back, suppressing a lot of happy giggles while smiling in between the kisses.

"i brought," peck "you," peck "one of my hoodies," one last final peck from you and this time san lets out the cutest laugh, his eyes closing and turning into that crescent moon shapes you love to see. "you're so cute, jagi."

"i think we both know who is the cuter one here," you confidently say, not holding yourself back from kissing the tip of his nose. he is quick to reciprocate your affection, copying your gesture which made your nose scrunch and his heart flip.

"mhm, you're right, it's you!" he gives you a charming wink then gets up from the couch when he senses that you are about to contradict him. gazing at you from this angle, with your messy bed hair, clearly not in your most comfortable clothing, eyes still a bit drowsy but with that peaceful, small smile on your lips, makes everything worth fighting for. san has so much love for you and will never get tired of showering you in it, because you deserve it.

noticing a cardboard box on your kitchen counter with two cups of coffee in it, your hopeful question pulls him out of the trance he found himself into. "you got the coffee already?"

your lover offers you a compassionate smile as he nods his head. "your favorite."

{💌ྀི} masterlist

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thepinklink · 4 months

Text

@selkies-song I wrote this for you when you weren’t feeling well, and I intended it to be longer but ran into some troubles. Regardless I hope it brightens your day 🩷

"Legend, can you get the pitchfork?"

It's a simple ask, but his headache filters it through layers of honey, so that by the time he registers what's been asked of him, Malon is watching him with concern.

"Is everything alright, Veteran?"

Legend swallows, words caught in a dry, gummy throat.

“Yeah.” He rasps. “I’m fine.”

He turns to walk back to the barn, but a dizzy spell freezes him in his tracks, and he squeezes his eyes shut.

Goddesses, was it always this hot out? Where was the cloud cover? Hadn’t it been overcast this morning? The light is making his head hurt even worse.

“Veteran. You’re ill.”

It’s not a question.

“What? No, I said I’m fine.” He scowls at the ground. Farore, it’s hot.

“You’re clearly not, dear. You’ve been sluggish and silent all morning. Look at you, the only thing keeping you on your feet is the Hero’s Spirit.”

“I’m fine. Just tired, nothing I haven’t handled before.” He is tired. He’s also in pain, but Malon doesn’t have to know that, and besides. He’s always in pain, the result of years of adventuring without always being able to take the time to care for himself or heal properly.

“I’m fine.” He repeats again, and with a little more firmness.

Malon reaches out and grabs his wrist before he can. His skin is freezing.

“You’re cold.”

He frowns at her. “What? No, I’m—it’s blazing out here.”

She frowns back. “You don’t feel cold?”

“No!”

Malon places her hand against his forehead.

“Well no wonder, you’ve got a fever. And look at you, all glassy-eyed and pale.”

Legend pulls away, scowl returning, wrought with anger at being cornered.

“I’m fine.” He hisses, insistent.

“You’re sick,” Malon replies, equally unyielding. They stand for a few minutes, glaring each other down, before Malon’s gaze is drawn over Legend’s shoulder. Legend follows it, and winces as he sees Time approaching. Time will side with Malon, he has no doubt.

“…I came to inquire about dinner on the Champion’s behalf, but I see I have stumbled into an argument.”

“Of a sort,” Malon tells him tensly.

“That does not inspire much confidence.” Time takes his place beside his wife. “It’s not too heated, is it?”

“Quite, actually, it’s got a fever.” Malon looks up forlornly at her husband, and then back at Legend again. “Our Veteran is sick.”

“Oh?” Time raises an eyebrow, eye now trained on Legend, who does not meet them. Time doesn’t say anything, but somehow he pulls all the information out of Legend faster than Malon did, and with less effort.

“I’m fine,” Legend snaps defensively, feeling raw under Time’s one-eyed gaze. He’s getting sick of the phrase. “I swear, I’m just a little tired. It rained yesterday, made my joints hurt and stuff, I’m just feeling the aftereffects right now. It’s fine.”

“Legend.”

It’s just his name. Not even his name, his nickname. And yet, the way Time says it, Legend knows immediately that he’s lost the battle.

“You have put up an excellent fight up to this point, however, it is truly bordering on pathetic.”

It hurts. Probably because it’s true. It gets worse when Time steps up next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder and lowering his voice.

“I know it is not easy to remember when you’re safe. To stop pushing yourself out of habit, out of that underlying pressure to keep going because that is what you have learned. To keep going, because the fate of Hyrule is in your hands, and you cannot afford to waste so much as a second. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you had to learn that, and I’m sorry that because of it, you don’t know how to recognize and take advantage of situations like this. Situations where such pressure does harm, not good. You’re in a safe place, Link. Hyrule’s fate is not is your hands, not in a way that pushing yourself will help. You are not alone anymore. There are people who will pick up the slack while you recover. There is time to heal, so take it. There is strength in recognizing when you are weak, and stepping back to change it.”

Legend desperately wishes Time were not so wise. Suddenly, his fighting against Malon feels silly and rude. He doesn’t even really know why he was arguing with her, what it would have accomplished. He nods numbly. It was hot a second ago, but the clouds have returned and in their shade, he’s cold.

“M’sorry,” he whispers.

“Don’t be. It’s a hard lesson, one we heroes are terribly unprepared to learn.” Time squeezes his shoulder gently before releasing him. “Now, go ahead and let Malon walk you to the house. And I say that because if you don’t walk, she will carry you. I had to learn that the hard way.”

Time chuckles and Malon huffs.

“You heroes and your selfless tendencies.” She turns to Legend, expression softening. “Come on, dear. You’ll feel better with a hot cup of tea in hand.”

#plink writes #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend #lu malon #lu time

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lethalchiralium · 1 year

Text

In The Morning | Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN! Reader

a/n: hi. i have so many unfinished ghost fics it physically hurts. anyway,,, here’s this

warnings: sickness, nightmares, simon being not as comforting as he should, this man does not know how to say i love you,,,, anything else? let me know

summary: simon doesn’t like when you’re sick, you’d never admit to his face that you were.

“Must you go?”

Your hand gently rested against his chest, your words sunk in his skin farther than a bullet - it hurt a lot more since you were asleep, and he was only shifting to get more comfortable. He had only been home a day and you have wounded his heart.

Simon’s hand was gentle when he moved hair from your face, your eyes didn’t even flutter. He moved his hand to pull your head to his collarbone, your forehead slick with sweat. He had thrown off the blanket ages ago, you must still be too warm - or even sick.

“Simon.” You breathed his name, your hand gripped his t-shirt. Your face pressed against his chest now, he was hesitant to place his hand on the back of your neck but he still did it; just to keep you close.

“I’m here.”

He could feel your heartbeat underneath his fingertips, imprinting the rhythm into his mind like a brand. He moved himself downwards on the bed, sacrificing having his feet on the bed for your face to be sheltered in his neck. The grip you had on his shirt loosened and your head finally settled on his neck, your warm breaths against his skin made his own eyes close.

Was this what normalcy felt like? Spinning, heart thrumming against his rib cage like a prisoned bird? Losing the security of the adrenaline in his career would be crushing. Simon took just a moment to process this - the normal moment of unordinary humans comfortable together. This could be one of the things he could be doing when the government finally lets him retire, lets him leave. A part of him was impatient for that time, ready to lay in this bed forever. The rest of him would rather burn alive than not be out there, protecting the world, protecting you. Because being out there meant he couldn’t hurt you.

His fingers drew circles as he curled them in the baby hairs of your neck, his other hand tugged the balaclava down farther on his neck. Another soft whimper escaped your lips, your fists curled more of his shirt away from his chest. “Honey.”

You pressed your cheek further into his balaclava, a sound of displeasure erupted from your lips.

His hand rested on your cheek then, thumb right below the side of your eye. He could feel how warm your face was, it gave him a flash of worry. He gently dragged his thumb underneath your eye, and you quickly woke up - eyes wide and staring up at him, but he couldn’t tell. He could only feel the difference in your breathing and when you pulled away to look at him.

“What?” You mumbled, he brushed your cheek again.

“Nothing, go back to sleep.”

——

He was watching you the next morning. It made your bristle a little bit, you weren’t used to it. He had been gone for months, no word, no whisper of safety. The cabin grew lonely with Simon, but you wouldn’t ever dare whisper that.

“Are you sick?”

You almost dropped your cup of tea when you jumped, his voice shattered the silence you had been used to for a long time. You settled the cup on the counter, placing your hands on the edge of it and stretching yourself backwards. “No, I’m fine.”

A lie, you hoped he wouldn’t see it. A growing fever, dizziness, chills, headache. It was probably an infection, you didn’t really want to be sick when he got home - yet here you are. You stood up, abandoning the tea for Simon. You moved at a lethargic pace, almost wanting to drop onto the floor but you kept going until you quite literally dropped onto Simon’s chest, his book smushing against your face and his chest. He fished it away from your face, letting your face settle on his shirt while you exhaled. His book lie on the floor now, rejected. “I lied.”

“I noticed.” His hand settled on your lower back, his other hand placed between your shoulder blades. “Do you need me to take care of you?”

“No,” You answered as a wave of dizziness hit your head, forcing you to groan slightly. “Just… want you.” Your arms moved to rest underneath his chest, awkwardly hugging him as he comforted you. Your eyes closed, calming your breathing as the dizziness got worse. “I’m tired.” Simon’s fingers dragged along your spine, ever so gently.

“We can go back to bed.”

You grumbled in disapproval. “I don’t want to move.”

“You’re difficult.”

You hummed a little, moving your fingers to tap his back. “I know.”

“You’re going to the doctor’s tomorrow.”

“You’ll drag me to it?”

He gently patted your back. “I’ll carry you.”

“Ever the gentleman.”

Silence filled the room then, all you cared to feel was his breathing, slowly raising and lowering your head at a steady rate. His left hand abandoned your shoulder blades, grabbing his book again before gently resting his hand on your back again, just now reading his book.

It wasn’t hard to focus on his heartbeat. It was steady, strong - a fire that your softer fingertips have burned themselves with. It thrummed and hummed in your ear, lulling you towards slumber.

“Love you, Si.”

He gently patted your back in response. I love you too.

———

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley call of duty #simon ghost riley x gn!reader #simon riley call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley x gn!reader #lethal chiralium #lethalchiralium #simon ghost riley cod #ghost cod #simon ghost riley mw2

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harrysfinelinevol1 · 2 years

Text

here for you

harry styles x reader

summary: harry is your husband and you are following him on his europe tour. halfway through you get quite sick which causes harry to get very worried about you especially because you're carrying a little secret

word count: 5k

warnings: none

Berlin was always one of your favourite places to visit. You found the city to be fascinating and the people there were always lovely. However this time around, you hadn't been able to really see it at all.

At his previous show in Poland, you had begun to feel a bit achy and tired but you had just put it down to poor sleep and always being on the move. However, after the day after the show, you had woken up to an excruciating headache, a chesty cough and you felt like you had a fever. During that day as you travelled from Poland to Germany, you had tried to play down how sick you were, not wanting to stress out your husband or distract him from his tour and so he remained mostly unaware of how awful you felt during that day. You arrived in Berlin late at night and went straight to the hotel. But at this point, you were starting to feel dizzy and you knew you needed to see a doctor. You knew you had the flu and in most normal circumstances you would just power through but not everything about your current circumstances was normal.

You were pregnant with Harry's baby. You had found out just before the Wembley show in London and you had been over the moon. You and Harry had been trying so luckily it wasn't a bad shock for you when the result came through as positive. You had told Harry and he had cried happy tears as he scooped you up into his arms, telling you how excited he was and how you would be the best mum. Since then he had become very protective of you, making sure you were always comfortable and trying the very best for you and your unborn baby. It had made you fall in love with him all over again. However, now that you were sick, you knew if you told him how ill you felt, he would panic and probably end up doing something rash, like cancel the show so he could be with you and you really didn't want him to do that.

So as you arrived at the hotel, and you knew you needed to see someone to check everything was ok, you sought out Sarah. Sarah and Mitch were some of the few people on the tour with you who you had told about the baby. Sarah had been really helpful during your first trimester as you struggled with morning sickness and the exhaustion you had felt.

You knocked on her hotel room door and it was quickly opened by Mitch who stared at you in confusion.

"Could I speak to Sarah?" you rasped, throat beginning to hurt now as well. Mitch quickly realised something wasn't right and let you in, helping you over to an armchair in the room and calling for Sarah, who was in the bathroom. She rushed out and came over to you, kneeling by your side.

"Oh love, what's up," she asked worried as you coughed, holding your hand against your head.

"I'm really ill. I think I need to see a doctor," you managed to get out and Sarah was quickly gesturing at Mitch to get her a phone.

"Ok, how long have you been feeling like this?" she questioned as Mitch handed her her phone and she scrolled to try and find the number for the doctor they had on tour with them.

"Probably since the last show," you mumbled, closing your eyes to try and lessen the thumping pain in your head. You heard the dial tone of Sarah's phone and her begin to explain to the doctor that he needed to come and see you. She explained your symptoms and also that you were pregnant and he said he would be right up. She put down the phone and held onto your hand as you waited.

"Does Harry know?" she whispered tentatively and you slowly shook your head.

"Y/N. You should tell him," Sarah told you but you shook your head again.

"He'll worry too much. He's already spending way too much time fretting about me and I just want him to focus on doing the best shows he can," you explained, sniffling slightly and Sarah just sighed but said nothing more. She knew you should have told him, but she respected your reasons for not doing so.

The doctor arrived quickly and gave you an examination to make sure everything was still ok with the baby, as well as prescribing you some medication to help with the flu. He told you that it was very important that you got some rest over the next couple of days and didn't push yourself at all. You agreed nervously, knowing it would be hard to explain to Harry why you were spending all day in bed. But you needed to do it for the health of your baby so you nodded along to whatever the doctor was saying.

After he left, you trudged back to your hotel room, still feeling horrible but the doctor had given you some pills so your symptoms were slightly less intense. You opened the door and chuckled slightly at the sight in front of you. Harry was fully clothed and face down on the bed, snoring slightly. You knew he was exhausted, it often happened halfway into the tour. You went about getting ready for bed, leaving him to sleep for a bit longer before you slowly shuffled round to his side of the bed, pushing the hair out of his face and giving him a small kiss on the head. His eyes fluttered open and he smiled softly when he saw you above him.

"Hi love," he mumbled sleepily.

"Let's get you to bed," you whispered, half to keep quiet and half because your throat was so sore that talking was quite difficult at the moment. He nodded as he pushed himself off the bed and padded into the bathroom. You went around the bed and clambered in, tucking yourself under the covers as the fever was making you shiver slightly, even though you knew you were hot to touch. You could feel yourself falling in and out of consciousness as Harry moved quietly around the room getting ready for bed. Eventually, he got into the bed beside you, frowning slightly when he noticed how hot you felt to touch and how you couldn't really focus on him.

"You ok love?" he wondered, scared that something might be wrong with the baby. You hummed back in response, too tired and ill to even be able to speak. Harry could tell he wasn't going to be able to get anything out of you as you were too tired but he couldn't help but worry. You had been strangely quiet all day, barely even saying a word and you had slept for the majority of it but you seemed exhausted now.

He had a fitful sleep, consumed by anxiety over whether you were ok. He kept waking up to check that you were still ok and he wished he could check that the baby was ok as well. He woke up in the morning, not feeling rested at all and frowned when he turned over and found that you were not lying next to him. Usually, he would wake up first and then wake you up with gentle kisses and touches but today that was not the case. He could see the light from the bathroom was on and guessed you were in there. He could hear retching and he cursed himself for not being there to help you through your morning sickness.

"Babe?!" he called out, quickly throwing off the covers and rushing into the bathroom where you were leaning on the toilet, face pale and clammy, dark circle under your eyes and you were trembling slightly. You looked horrible, worse than you usually looked when you had morning sickness. Harry's heart dropped when he saw you, it killed him to see the love of his life looking so unwell. He dropped down beside you, gathering your hair up in his hands and slowly rubbing your back as you retched and gagged.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled as you collapsed back against him. You had never felt worse in your life, the morning sickness combined with your flu had you feeling like you might not actually survive this.

"Baby, why are you apologising?" Harry questioned, stunned you'd try and apologise for being unwell.

"Because I can't imagine this is nice to deal with," you explained but he shook his head.

"Y/N, you are everything to me. I will always be there for you when you're feeling gross and sick because I love you so much. M' your husband love, I will look after you for the rest of my life," he professed and tears pricked your eyes. You felt so guilty for not telling him you were sick now because you could hear in his voice how worried he was about you.

"C'mon, let's get you back into bed," he said as he lifted you into his arms, letting you rest your weary head on his shoulder. He knew there was something going on other than your morning sickness, you looked too unwell. He gently placed you down on the bed, kneeling down beside you.

"Wanna tell me what's going on?" he whispered to you and you sighed, knowing you needed to come clean.

"I'm not feeling very well. At all. I have the flu," you admitted. Harry ran his hands over his face before settling one hand on yours, giving it a squeeze.

"How long have you felt like this?" he inquired, knowing you would have tried to pretend like it was fine for as long as possible.

"Not very long," you tried but Harry shook his head.

"C'mon love, don't pretend to be ok. Let me help you," he pleaded.

"Haven't been feeling great since the last show."

"Ok, do we need to go see a doctor? Do you think the baby is ok?" he asked, eyes full of worry for his unborn child and you. You shook your head.

"I... um... well I saw the doctor last night," you told him and you felt horrible when you saw the sadness in his eyes.

"Baby, why didn't you tell me? I just came here and fell asleep like an idiot when I should have been there for you," he said, placing a hand on your forehead and flinching when he felt how hot you were. You shrugged slightly, squeezing your eyes shut so the tears that were threatening to fall down your cheeks wouldn't slip out. You had become a lot more emotional since getting pregnant and would cry at the smallest things.

Deep down, Harry knew exactly why you hadn't told him. You had always been very selfless and would only complain about something if it was really bad. He knew you didn't like to distract him from his work and he knew you hated it when he was overly worried about you. You always wanted him to be comfortable and happy on tour and focused on the fans and his music and not be concerned about you.

"Love, when will you realise that I will always worry about you. You're my love, my wife and the mother of my child. You are my first priority always," he insisted and you sniffled slightly.

"I know," you whimpered, feeling so bad for not telling Harry you were sick.

"Oh my love, please don't cry, it's ok," he tried to soothe you. "I just want you to be ok, yeah, so let me look after you."

"But your tour? You have a really busy day H," you pointed out and he scoffed.

"Fuck the tour. You're more important," he declared but you shook your head, sighing.

"Harry, you can't cancel your show over me. You just can't. I won't let you. It will make me feel worse if you do," you told him, your fears of him trying to do something rash because of your sickness coming true. He groaned slightly, knowing that you wouldn't back down over this and also that you were right. He couldn't just cancel a show but he didn't want to go to work and not be able to look after you. But he had an idea.

"Ok, listen I won't cancel the show, but you need to let me look after you. Come with me today, I'll make sure you have a place you can rest for the whole day. If you're too sick, that's fine, you can stay here and rest love, but if you can, please come with me. I wanna make sure you and the little one are alright," he begged. You could tell he was really going to struggle to leave you here on your own, and secretly you wanted to come and have him look after you although you would never admit it. So you nodded and he breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, love. If at any point you need to come back here, just let me know and we will. Now, let me get you some clean clothes and we'll go from there."

He helped you up, getting you out of your pyjamas, which your skin was sticking to due to your fever although you just felt cold. You whimpered loudly when you sat naked in the bed, intensely shivering and Harry ran around quickly getting you some new clothes, his heart breaking to see you so ill. He grabbed a big hoodie of his and some of your leggings out of the closet, as well as some underwear. Weakly, you let him dress you, your body using his for support as he pulled the jumper over your head. Once he had got you into clean clothes, he pulled you into his lap, holding you and rocking you to try and soothe you. It worked slightly, you found yourself relaxing in the arms of your love and it relieved some of the aches you felt in your body.

"Have you got some medicine?" he inquired and you nodded, telling him it was in your washbag in the bathroom. He found the medicine the doctor had prescribed you and got you some water so you could take it.

"Can I get you some breakfast?" he asked and you groaned at the thought of food. Nausea from the morning sickness and the fact you had lost your appetite made food sound very unappealing.

"Love you need to eat something. For the baby," he urged you and you knew he was right. The baby needed sustenance, so you needed to eat.

"Nothing too heavy," you conceded and he nodded. He tucked you back into bed, pressing a kiss to your forehead and promised he'd be back soon and went off in search of some breakfast. When he returned with a range of items, he found you asleep, snoring slightly as your body tried to fight off your illness. He smiled softly, glad you were getting some much-needed rest, before settling himself in the adjoining room, which had a sofa and table in it and started eating some breakfast he had acquired for himself.

You slept for most of the morning, until about 11am, when Harry woke you up, quietly telling you that he was needed in about an hour at the venue to rehearse. Your heart swelled when you saw what he had got you for breakfast. He had bought you a range of options as he had apparently gone to Sarah to ask her what he should get you to make sure he got it right. He had bought you some yoghurt and bananas as well as different types of cereal so you could choose the one you wanted. He had also got you some ginger tea because he had read somewhere that ginger helped with morning sickness. You felt so lucky at that moment to have such a caring and sweet husband who would do anything for you.

You slowly ate breakfast, to try and keep everything down and the ginger tea really did help. Harry helped you shower and get ready for the day before packing a bag for you full of blankets, your medicine, some water and things to get you through the day. You set off for the venue around 12, you slumped against Harry in the car while he rubbed your back, pressing small gentle kisses all over your face. When you arrived, Harry found two couches in the dressing room which he pushed together to make a bed for you. He covered it in blankets and cushions and helped you get settled. As sick as you were you wanted to smother him with love for what he was doing for you. You were so thankful.

Eventually, he had to leave to go to rehearsals but it took a lot of convincing on your part to get him to leave you. Jeff basically had to drag him away and he looked very grumpy as he sulked off towards the stage. You settled down and began to drift off again, the distant sound of Harry's voice calming you down as you listened to him playing.

You rested all afternoon, Harry periodically coming into check on you. Whenever he had a spare moment, he would immediately rush to be by your side, making sure you were getting enough liquids and rest and helping you eat something here and there. As the afternoon turned into the evening, Harry became busier and busier and was finding it hard to get back to you and make sure you were ok. He was getting frustrated with people as they kept pulling him in different places and he was getting snappy. Jeff sighed as he noticed Harry getting irritable, knowing he only needed to see his wife but they were running late already and he couldn't really pull him away yet. Selfishly, Jeff needed Harry to stay where he was so he could make sure everything went to plan.

You remained unaware of this, as you were snoozing away in the dressing room, listening to a podcast on your phone, your hand absentmindedly rubbing your belly. You had started doing it when you got pregnant and it always relaxed you now. Harry was always rubbing it as well as if he was in awe that a tiny person was growing inside you. You could tell he was already going to be an amazing father, especially after how he treated you today.

You slept right through into the evening, your body craving rest as it fought off the illness, but it did mean you had slept right through dinner and Harry hadn't been there to make sure you'd eaten. Therefore you woke up at around 8:30, half an hour before Harry was due to go on stage, feeling groggy and weak due to the lack of food. You groaned as you stretched out your muscles, mumbling out Harry's name but soon realised he wasn't there. No one was, the dressing room was completely empty. You sighed slightly as you realised you would have to get up to find some food, but you knew you had to eat so you pushed your sore body off the couch and shuffled to the door. You wandered through the corridors slowly, trying not to move too fast to aggravate your already sore head. You began to get frustrated as you failed to find any food or someone you could ask to get you something as everyone was running about looking very busy. Not wanting to cause a fuss, you sadly began making your way back to the dressing room. Halfway back, you heard someone yell out your name and turned around to see Harry running towards you, a concerned look plastered on his face.

"Baby, what are you doing out here?" he asked as he pulled you into his arms.

"Just trying to get some dinner," you muttered pulling back from Harry who frowned.

"You haven't eaten?" You shook your head in response and he swore under his breath. "I fucking told Jeff to get you some food like an hour ago, are you shitting me?!"

"Harry it's ok, don't worry, I'll find some food," you insisted but he was too angry now.

"No, you should be getting some rest not wandering around trying to get food! I want you to be better love and Jeff should have bought you something. He knows you're pregnant as well," Harry continued, clenching his fists as he looked around trying to find Jeff so he could chew him out.

"Harry please, I don't want to cause any trouble," you tried again.

"Love, you really arent so please stop saying that. You're ill and you're carrying m'baby in there and I need to make sure you're ok and fed and that the little bubba is too," he said firmly and your gaze softened because you knew he was just getting angry because he was worried about the baby. You stood on your tiptoes and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and cupped his cheek with your hand.

"I love you H. And I love that you care so much about me. About us," you began as you cupped your stomach. "But right now, you've got a show to put on and I want you to go out there and give it your all. I will be ok and I will find some food and after the show, we can go home right away and you can look after me as much as you want, yeah," you proposed and his demeanour softened, the anger fading from his eyes. He nodded slowly, pulling you into his arms as you swayed back and forth. Eventually, he pulled back and pressed another kiss to your lips.

"I love you. So much," he professed and you smiled into the kiss, feeling overwhelmingly in love with the man that stood before you.

"I love you too. Sorry I can't watch the show," you apologised and he shook his head.

"Don't apologise. Just need you to get better for me love," he told you.

He pulled away slowly, and begun to walk you back to your dressing room. You pretended like you couldn't see him angrily texting Jeff to get you some food. You could see him violently typing in the corner of your eye and you rolled your eyes at your husband's antics. He got you settled back onto the sofa and glared at Jeff as he sheepishly arrived with food for you. You sent Jeff an apologetic look which didn't get missed by Harry.

"Doesn't deserve your apology," he mumbled into your skin as he was sitting underneath you, with you curled up on his lap and his face pressed into your neck. You rolled your eyes as you tentatively spooned soup into your mouth and chewed on some bread.

"H, you need to go," you pushed as he continued to cling onto you, his arms wrapped around your waist under your jumper, softly holding your belly with his large hands.

"Don't wanna."

"Harry," you warned and he huffed as he let you go and you clambered off him so he could move.

"Stay here love and get some rest. I'll be back before you know it," he said before kneeling down in front of you to kiss your belly, lifting the jumper you were wearing so a sliver of your skin was exposed.

"Be nice for Mum," he muttered as he pressed a kiss to your skin and you gazed down adoringly at him. You couldn't wait to have this baby with him, it was like he was destined to be a dad. He stood up and gave you a quick kiss.

"Eat all your soup love," he reminded you as you sat back down on the sofa, smiling as he grabbed a blanket and pulled it over you.

"You got this," you encouraged as he turned towards the door.

"Always love," he replied grinning as he left and you snuggled back down onto the sofa, enjoying your soup. You smiled as you heard the roar of the crowd, always so proud of your husband whenever you saw how many people would turn up just to see him play. He deserved every success in your eyes.

Harry returned an hour later. After making his way off stage, a couple of people tried to pull him in different directions but he was insistent on getting back to his wife. Jeff, having learnt his lesson, helped Harry get away from them and therefore all was forgiven between the two of them.

"I think Y/N's seeing the doctor right now," Jeff mentioned and Harry whirled his head around.

"Is she ok?! Is the baby ok?!" he rushed out but before Jeff had time to say yes, it was just a routine check-up, Harry was already sprinting down the corridor towards the dressing room. Jeff shook his head at Harry but he was happy to finally see the man so in love.

Your eyes grew wide as Harry crashed through the door of the dressing room where you were lying on the couch as the doctor listened to the baby's heartbeat.

"Is everything ok?" he asked urgently as he ran his hands through his hair in stress. You chuckled.

"Everything is fine H, he's just giving me a check-up," you explained as Harry sighed in relief, coming over to your side where he knelt down beside you, holding your hand. He watched as the doctor felt your stomach and checked your general health and relaxed when the doctor said he was happy with how things were progressing and that your bout of illness hadn't impacted the baby in any way. He also said you were improving generally and a couple more days of rest and you would be much better.

"Any questions?" the doctor said as he began to pack away his stuff and you sighed. Whenever any doctor asked Harry if he had any questions regarding you and your baby, he usually had about 100. You gave the doctor an apologetic look as he began to answer all of Harry's questions as unsurprisingly he had a lot. Eventually, you managed to pull Harry away and the doctor looked a bit relieved as he exited the room. You chuckled seeing Harry looking all grumpy because somehow he still had more questions.

"Babe, you can google it later or find the answer in one of those books you have," you told him, pulling off his top so he could get changed back into his normal clothes. He turned bright red at the mention of the books. He thought you hadn't noticed, but the day after you told him you were pregnant, he had bought every single book on pregnancy that he could find. You had found them stashed in his tote bag a few nights ago and you found it really sweet.

"What books?" he pretended as he grabbed his jumper that you were holding and pulled it over to his bed. You giggled as he hid his face in the hood, pulling the strings tight so only his nose was visible in the little gap. You pressed a soft kiss to it and he began to loosen the strings.

"It's cute babe," you reassured him and he shrugged, a bit embarrassed he'd been caught. Harry finished getting dressed and he made sure you were all ready to go. He looped an arm around your shoulders as he guided you out of the venue and towards the car.

Once you got back to the hotel, Harry sat you on the counter as he readied a bath for you. You were already beginning to feel a lot better, the day of rest having done wonders for you. You knew it was going to mean you would be behind on work but you didn't really care. You needed rest and seeing as your husband was technically your boss, as you worked alongside Jeff in organising Harry's tours, you thought you could probably get away with it. You watched him as he went about making sure the water temperature was right and your heart melted. He was so sweet to you.

He carefully undressed you and placed you in the bath before settling in behind you. He carefully washed you, massaging your shoulders and your head as he did. It felt incredible.

"M'so lucky to have you," you mumbled sleepily and he pressed a kiss to your head.

"You are everything to me," he responded lovingly as he got out of the bath from behind you and helped you out, still whispering the sweetest things in your ear. You both got ready for bed, settling down in the cool sheets. Harry had pushed up your top, so it was just resting beneath your chest and he was pressing slow, loving kisses to your stomach. Your eyes fluttered closed at the sensation.

"Sing to us?" you asked quietly. Harry had gotten into the habit of singing to you and the baby since you got pregnant. You had joked that the baby was going to come out already knowing all the lyrics to his songs, but you loved it when he did sing. You never would get tired of hearing your husband sing.

"Course love," he complied as he began to sing the opening verse of As It Was. He sang it slowly and much calmer than he usually would. You could feel yourself drifting off to the sound of his deep voice, his breath hot against the skin of your stomach.

'in this world, it's just us' he sang and you smiled softly. That was your favourite line of the song because it was true. Despite the chaos of it all, despite the millions of fans, the hundreds of shows and everything that came along with it, as long as you just had Harry and your baby it would be fine.

It was just the three of you, and that's all that mattered.

little one shot while i work on pt.2 of the flatshare in london, which is coming along nicely but is very time consuming and i was away at the weekend so i couldn't really write anything. sorry :(

sloane xx

#harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles reader insert #harry styles request #harry styles and reader

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kozmicmizuu · 23 days

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omg the thing thag @scrimblyscrorblo said about giyuu potentially having a whole genetic disease got my brain going ngl

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giyuu probably already knew he was doomed from the start, especially since eves his sister started to show some symptoms of the disease that tore is his family members apart from the inside.

giyuu didn’t tell anyone cause he didn’t want pity, the only person who really knew was kanae but she’s out of the picture now so basically no one knows. the sickness is very stealthy and only visible if you really pay attention to giyuu’s body language. like if he’s silently coughing or paler than usual or just overall weaker than usual. he gets a LOT of flare ups and it’s genuinely so annoying to him.

has shinobu noticed? obviously, she’s a doctor after all. she’s tried to secretly look at giyuu’s vitals during physical exams and she sees nothing. UNLESS- she looks in kanaes super convenient office that she hasn’t touched in years. and what does she find?? super old demon slayer corps files on tomiokas. omg the demon slayer corps keeping a record on giyuu’s family for literal generations?! and she was APPALLED by the effects of the illness.

and what shinobu found the most interesting was that she wasn’t the first to think about poisoning herself to avenge a family member. yep the tomiokas pulled that card cause they found out about muzan probably killing a small part of their family and they were like “no, fuck you im going to kill you no matter how long it takes” and then here we are. with a sick giyuu who doesn’t even know that he’s a lil human bomb for the demon king. which yes, that does mean giyuu would have to die by being consumed or have his blood somehow be in muzans body.

the poison probably ain’t even wisteria at all, probably smth worse the smart tomioka made 500 years ago just to be petty and kill or at least weaken muzan.

giyuu’s carrying an anger that isn’t even his his WHOLE life. he has expectations from family he doesn’t even know. his short temper and bitter demeanor isn’t his at all, it’s his ancestors. the angry, hate filled ancestors that want muzan gone.

the symptoms are a lil funky so here they are: aching joints, fevers, vomiting, mild allergic reactions to wisteria and high ranked demons (the closer to muzan, the stronger the effects), sudden fatigue, lack of appetite and sleep, aggressive outbursts (ancient anger boiling over), sudden headaches, temporary loss of sight (his ancestors want a peak of what he’s seeing), loss of voice, lack of energy, slight memory loss, hallucinations(his family make themselves known to him), dizziness, anxiety, paranoia.

long story short giyuu is not having a good time

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guys did i cook with this

#demon slayer #kny #kimestsu no yaiba manga #kimestu no yaiba #giyuu tomioka #kozu back at it again with the yapping #yall i love giyuu too much #i’m NOT well #giyuu probably accidentally threw up blood one time #then he did a thumbs at the camera #he’s fine guys don’t worry #i’m lying he’s not well #okay yeah so giyuu could potentially die in this au?? is this an au?? probably #kinda like how shinobu did but maybe somewhat different

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pixelatedraindrops · 2 months

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MakoYuma Sick Day Art~🌡️💊

(Spoilers!!)

Makoto and Yuma are both sick with the flu. So they decide to take a little sick day together in the CEO's living room on one of the sofas.

The thing is, Makoto actually was sick first, and Yuma went over and spent time taking care of him. But unfortunately this lead to him getting sick too and he has it slightly worse than Makoto.

So they get into comfortable pajamas, Makoto lending Yuma some of his spares in a different color, get wrapped up in blankets and try to lower their fevers and aid their headaches with ice and a compress respectively, they also make sure they both have their own box of tissues because BOTH of them are still pretty congested. Makoto is able to sit upright, however Yuma’s a little more dizzy so he has to lean against Makoto to keep himself steady.

Despite feeling ill, they both still try to keep working anyway. Yuma looks at case files from the WDO and Makoto looks at his email and makes sure he's caught up on current events in Kanai Ward. But it’s pretty difficult when you feel stuffy in your nose and your head! Nevertheless, they persist.

Yuma also orders some takeout from a restaurant nearby to be delivered. (since neither of them can cook) He gets himself some nice warm soup and gets Makoto some of kanai ward's special ramen. (because in his current weak state, he probably needs the proper nutrients) Thankfully despite the illness, they both had pretty solid appetites. (this may change in the following days)

They still try to make the day productive, but when you're sick its NOT easy! You need to sleep and rest, not work!! Well... a little sick day isn't going to stop the world's greatest minds from doing what they do. The sofa has now turned into a sickbed space for both of them.

They can try their best, but that flu's not going easy on them. It won’t go down without a fight.

I figured it was about time to torment both of my little targets at the same time! 🌡️😈 Decided to make it a little silly because...well they're both pretty silly lil' guys xD

Also don't ask why shinigami is there...she's just there because X’D (And shes sick too since she’s linked to Yuma lol)

Welp. It is flu season after all.

Everyone please take care of yourselves!! Don’t end up like these two! 🤧💦 lmao.

This will be the last art that I do for a while, so...why not make it a fun one? :3c

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gojoandtojisleftnut · 2 years

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taking care of you when you’re sick - g. satoru

Pairings: Gojo Satoru x female reader

A/n: I’m sick so here you are. No warnings.

He bursts into your bedroom cupping both your cheeks asking you if you’re okay.

Your throat is sore and can’t speak and it drives him insane. “I miss your voice baby.”

He makes you hot cocoa to ease the pain.

Wraps you with a blanket like a burrito and cuddles you on the couch while you watch tv.

He probably makes your headache worse but you love him and couldn’t be more thankful for his help.

Forehead kisses galore

Always checks your temperature and gives you your pills.

“Babygirl I love you so much I don’t like it when you’re sick” he kisses the side of your head while you lay on his chest trying to get some sleep.

Will cook for you anything you want. He’ll be your slave.

Spams Shoko with questions just to be sure you ain’t dying in his arms.

He carries you to bed cause you’re too dizzy to walk.

Will take days off work just to stay home with his girl.

The day you start feeling better he helps you sit outside always wrapped in your blanket to get some fresh air.

Panics when your fever gets higher. Teleports you to the doctor.

If he must go on a really important mission he forces Suguru to stay with you or the first years.

He gave you a little white board to write down whatever you want to tell him.

Overall he’s there for you and will go the extra mile for you. Worries too much but he’s just overly protective.

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inawearyworld · 3 months

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music makers/dreamers of dreams: a fiytwtb addition

a study of wren's relationship with music at two pivotal points, and music's relationship to the world of wonka as a whole

2023!wonka x oc (though lbr there is also a SIZABLE dose of fickelgruber), ~1.9k

alrighty SO. i was thinking more about this dang movie (as you can probably see by the rest of this blog) and all those thoughts came here. i am a big ole motherfreakin nerd for music and shakespeare and many other things, and therefore so is wren.

also this takes place in the universe of the original screenplay (in which pure imagination is first sung by noodle as she teaches willy to read). my take on that song here in general is more like the original in the 70s movie; there’s just Somethin About It Man.

alrighty, enjoy, like comment reblog etc, love yall <3

fic masterlist

“We are the Music Makers, and We are the Dreamers of Dreams”, being a Prologue and Epilogue to “the Chronicles of the Songbird”, regarding the Songs in question and their Bird, one Wren Matterson.

Two Years and Eight Months Prior to Chapter One

This had been a very odd evening.

Wren had been put up in a luxury hotel for the amount of time she’d agreed to stay in the city, which had taken quite a bit of getting used to. Coming back to her room after a day of work voicing advertisements, she had noticed a crisply thrice-folded paper slipped under her door, held together with an emerald wax seal.

Yes, that was where the oddness had started.

She’d torn the seal, read the note conveyed by a cursive hand so elaborate it nearly caused a headache, and crinkled her brow.

She’d opened the door to her room’s closet, faced with the sight of a dress, stole, and gloves of deep green velvet that she soon learned were impossibly well-tailored.

She’d followed the address of the note, becoming even more confused when it led her to the city’s cathedral, but presented it to the bishop as instructed. He had looked her up and down and ushered her into what turned out to be an elevator.

She’d continued through the corridors, growing more and more curious and undeniably uneasy, greeted by a woman with tired eyes whom she wished she could have truly talked to. Any attempt at conversation that Wren made, though, was interrupted by whispers that came from the other side of the heavy door-

“The two of you must stay mostly in shadow, she won’t agree if she recognizes you and knows of our arrangement too early.”

“Are-are you sure of her, then, Felix, if she’s too-”

“Oh, do shut up, Gerald, she’ll certainly come around by the time we’ve-besides, you know you owe me one-”

“Gentlemen, please. Let’s just focus on the…ahem…altered choreography.”

“You can’t be in the center all the time, Arthur, it so happens that for this particular-”

“Fine, fine. Miss Bonbon, lights at the ready?”

And then the guard had cleared her throat, the whispers had ceased, and Wren went inside, asking if this summoning was for some sort of rerecording session.

And that was how she had gotten to this point, whatever point this was.

The evening’s oddness now found her the focal point of a whirling tango, a display so dizzying she barely knew which way was up. It was a teenaged fever-dream fantasy come to life, colored lights flooding and hands on her waist and trembling twixt-verse vamps and velvet and tweed and silk.

It was a too-sweet overwhelm of something, but at least it was something at all.

The lighting was such that she couldn’t tell exactly where she was, but she realized that, in that moment, she didn’t care. There was a taste of dark mint chocolate in the air, and she became aware that at some point a massive necklace of dewdrop emeralds had been clasped around her neck by a deft, grazing touch and was now dappling her collarbone as she was twirled, dipped, tossed, thrown.

Most inescapable of all was Felix Fickelgruber’s voice in her ear, accompanied by tight harmonies that came from seemingly nowhere, promising her every speck of security and influence that she’d been in need of her whole life. Any question or dissent from Wren was smoothly dismissed in rhyme, and even when she could get a few words in, they somehow always came out in rhythm.

It was almost as if her innate tendency to musicianship overruled any resistance.

It was almost as if he’d known that would be the case.

The realization was alarming and delicious all at once, and with the current sensation of melodies pronounced against her neck, she was inclined to focus on the latter.

The music from nowhere started to build, shifting from the driving tango into a blasting Broadway finale. Clear-toned horns, stunningly blaring lights, this sauntering silhouette with his sea-of-chocolate eyes calling her by a new name-it was too much, one quiet thought piped up, something’s being hidden.

“You’ll be living so high, don’t refuse my-”

Then the lights dimmed further and all else seemed to disappear, save for Felix and the sound of one solo violin.

“-question it took all this to confess.”

The violin threw in a chromatic accent, adding to her held-back and long-delayed swoon, and she realized the next line was hers.

“Don’t know if I should play it…”

“Darling, won’t you say it?”

Then his hand was lifting her face, and there was silence for the first time in what felt like ages.

She was backed up against a wall, not only in metaphor.

There was only one syllable left in the stanza, and only one possible rhyme.

“Yes.”

She let out a breath, which was soon caught up into his own as violins swooped into a sickeningly soaring final beat.

A Few Minutes Following Chapter Five

The librarian that had been the first in this city to give Wren a kind smile all that time ago was standing on her steps, hugging her daughter, who looked as if she was finally breathing for the first time in her fourteen years.

Without question, this was the most beautiful thing that the other woman had ever witnessed.

Something close to the same was probably true, too, for the man who stood beside her.

“If you want to view paradise, simply look at them and view it.”

He’d sung to Noodle to encourage her as they approached the library, a lilting melody that he was currently continuing-to himself now, and with tears in his voice.

“Somebody to hold onto; it’s all we really need.”

They both knew Noodle would stay in touch with them, they knew they were more than happy for her, but they were still touched with tears. Wren had her own bond with the girl, but she knew Willy would miss her the most out of everyone, so she took his arm, and they leaned on each other.

“Nothing else to it.”

He was probably thinking of his own mom, too.

And she was thinking of hers.

They’d finally been able to write back and forth again; Wren had read over and over the two years’ worth of her family’s letters, remembering all the time she’d spent worrying and wondering aloud to Felix why she’d never gotten a letter from them. He’d always flicked her words away, assured her they must have simply been busy, that the mail these days was spotty; his voice was always sweet and smooth on those days, and she’d allowed it to comfort her when she thought nothing else could.

Never again.

She’d written pages of apologies and explanations to her mom, pouring every ounce of love into that paper, and receiving the reply felt like a world-heavy weight off of her shoulders.

It was the same feeling that she knew her friend was feeling now, that her new love had felt in spirit just minutes ago.

They held each other, certain and close within the shared tinge of loneliness.

“So goes a good deed in a weary world.”

They turned to see the Oompa-Loompa just down the path, looking between them, his eyebrows going up a bit when his gaze found Wren.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Mr. Wonka,” he said half-sarcastically, “it seems I’ve misquoted in the presence of your aficionado of the Bard. ‘So shines a good deed in a naughty-’”

“It’s fine,” she laughed. “Portia’s…not exactly the most admirable of characters to need to quote correctly, anyway.”

“Quite right.”

“And I do like ‘weary’,” Willy mused. “It’s not what’s written, but it…”

“Just feels better,” Wren agreed, and Willy smiled at her before turning back to the Oompa-Loompa.

“I was wondering if I’d see you again.”

One negotiation later, the three were walking across an old bridge to a castle of ruin that nearly took Wren’s breath away. There was history in these old stones, so much life, so much room to dream.

“It’s beautiful, Willy.”

“Just wait,” he said with a grin.

“It was sweet, by the way, what you sang to Noodle. How did you find that melody?”

“It was hers, actually. Seems the idea of imagination can…”

He trailed off when the church bells tolled in a way that Wren had never heard them ring before.

High B flat, low A, low B flat.

Over the ostinato, she started to hum Noodle’s melody, and Willy stopped in his tracks, looking straight at her.

“What?” Wren said.

“...It fits.”

“Yeah, perfectly,” she smiled.

“Keep going,” Willy said, getting that sort of shimmer in his eye that usually came when he’d thought up some sort of wonderful new idea. “You’re the only person I’ve known who sees beauty in an old ruined castle-not only what it could be, but even just what it is. So”-overwashed with thoughts, he took her hands and kissed them, the dreamer in his element, and she laughed, and the Oompa-Loompa rolled his eyes, and Willy grinned, leading them into the castle-“so, Wren, my dear Wren-tell me what you hear.��

She closed her eyes for a moment and let it come. The possibility of the place, the fulfillment of the past few weeks, the melancholy and wonder, the magic that had entered her life.

“Start with a minor chord on the second,” she said softly, slowly. “Repeat your first few notes, let it fall into the five, then-then it goes to that major seventh.”

She swooned into the unexpected chord, then realized that, as she was murmuring each suggestion, it was blooming into full orchestral realization behind the chocolatier’s voice. At the same time, the castle’s courtyard was starting to take shape; the crumbling walls returned to their speckled glory, a beautiful domed ceiling of glass appeared from nowhere, and colorful ingredient pipes started to snake around each corner. Willy’s eyes widened with wonderstruck joy as his creation came to life, and he and Wren looked at each other with equal and mirrored pride.

For his part, the Oompa Loompa started to seem the slightest bit impressed, which the couple took as a win, smiling in awe as they danced into the space.

“We’ll begin with a spin, traveling-”

“One, two, diminished flat three…”

“-in the world of my creation!”

He was the taste and the sight, she was the sound and the sense.

“What we’ll see…”

“Two-five…”

“…will defy…”

The dance came to a pause, and he turned to her, eyes shimmering with anticipatory trust.

The answer came to her as a miracle would.

Your wheel mixes its chocolate, my song mixes its mode. Subvert their expectations, my love, just like you always have.

“Major three,” she said breathlessly, and-

“Explanation.”

The chord ricocheted through the space, and something like a sigh of a laugh escaped them both. Then the bridge came, soaring and swooping with a much truer hope than anything she’d ever heard before.

Wren Matterson had always loved music-it had been once her lifeline, then her work, then the thing that had held her in place. But now, it didn’t have a betraying hold on her, no-now it was hers, born of inspiration from those she loved, coursing through her skin with a warmth unlike anything she’d ever felt.

Perhaps there wasn’t exactly nothing to it, but they had indeed changed quite a bit of the world, and she had the feeling that they’d only just begun.

“There is no life I know to compare with pure imagination. Living there, you’ll be free if you truly wish to be.”

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