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wheelsup30 · 2 months

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He loves me not (Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader)

(Note: Here's a little explanation of hanahaki disease for those who haven't heard of it: x)

cw: hanahaki disease, slightly gorey and gross descriptions, unrequited love, gender neutral reader, ANGST, death.

word count: 1.5k

dividers: x

tag list: @ralvezfanatic @softhairedhotch @samsgoddess @pisceslovrr

Guilt.

That's the last thing you should have felt staring down at the palm of your hand after the agony and panic you'd just experienced, but as the air made it back to your lungs, you were overwhelmed by it.

All he'd done was smile at you. That's it, just a quick, reassuring smile as he went past you to his office. Yet here you are in an empty hallway coming back from hacking up a lung. It had been going on for a while now, only recently it seemed to have worsened from once a month to almost every day. Even now it felt like every time he looked at you there was a rattle in your throat that needed clearing.

The outcome itself had worsened too with time, they started off no bigger than baby's breath, but now they had grown to roses, thick and blood soaked that make you gag as you pull them from the back of your mouth. ‘Well, at least it's only the petals…’ you think to yourself as you go to the bathroom to wash your hands and dispose of what had been expelled from you. You shudder to think what it would be like if stems got involved…especially roses…

“Y/n?” Shit. Emily.

You scrub your hands quickly after tossing the petal in the trash, glancing over at her and smiling as she looks up from her phone.

“You okay? You just walked off in the middle of your paperwork…”

“I'm fine,” You assure her, hoping there's no blood on your teeth.

It’s convincing enough that she leaves you be, giving you time to wash the taste of copper and soil from your tongue. This couldn’t keep happening, it was only a matter of time before someone found out and tried to take you to a treatment centre, and then they’d all know. Aaron is married, you could never do that to him or Haley, so you’d resigned yourself to at home solutions and managing your symptoms by…well…hiding them.

Eventually you make it back out and are immediately called to the table, keeping your eyes fixed on JJ as she gives you the case information. Hotch sat in the same seat every time, so it was easy to ignore him and avoid another disaster. Most paperwork days went like this, 50% done and then you’re off again, giving you even more paperwork for when you get back. It was one of those things that made you whisper how you loved your job as you resisted the urge to actually bite a chunk out of your desk. You feel someone reach towards you as you stand, but you move out of the way before they can stop you in case it’s him. Fortunately it’s Emily, and she follows you down the hall, hand on your arm and a look of concern guiding her brows together. “Hey, what’s going on with you? You stood up like you got electrocuted.”

A shaky sigh slips from your mouth, and you shrug, faking a tight-lipped smile. “Just a little tired, I guess I’m jumpy.”

You weren’t. Not like this, anyway. You knew that, and so did Emily, but she also knew you were stubborn as all hell and if you didn’t want people to know something- you’d take it to your metaphorical grave.

Two and a half hours later, everyone stood in a small but relatively functional sheriff’s office. The case was pretty cut and dry, a local killer targeting public areas by a town she felt wronged her as a child. Most of the case was spent on different errands with JJ and Rossi, anything to avoid being left in a room with Aaron, you knew with this small of a workstation you’d have to speak to him and an episode would be close to unavoidable.

It doesn’t take long to track the unsub down, finding her at the scene of her first childhood crime. You approach her carefully with everyone else’s guns trained on her as you try to convince her to turn herself in, she’s hesitant at first, but with a few minutes of talking between you it finally seems like she’s calming down-

Then she lunges at you.

Everything happens in slow motion, Morgan runs to pull her back while someone else pulls you too, turning you to bury your face in their chest. Everything is a blur of panic and adrenaline, any noise muffled by your pounding heartbeat while you catch your breath…which is when you smell it.

His cologne.

You are wrapped in Aaron’s arms, one of his hands on your back and the other stroking your hair as he tries to get you back from your startled state. Little does he know, he’s making everything else worse.

The burn is slow at first, like a scraping on your throat that you might be able to wash away with some water, but as you walk to the car with his arm around your shoulders it grows into a firm pressure- then a blockage. You can only clear your throat so many times before it moves enough that you have to cough it out, and you do at first. Until there’s another, and another, and soon enough you’ve fallen to your knees, trying desperately to catch your breath as petals clog your trachea. It’s too much- you can’t even tell what the others are doing through your dizzy head and frantic attempts to inhale through the blood and flowers.

Aaron, as anyone would, panics. He tries his best to smack your back to help your coughing, but when your breathing goes from strained to nearly non-existent, he knows he has to act. “What’s wrong with them?” He shouts, looking at the others for answers he wouldn’t be getting, but Emily still tries.

“Are those petals?” Horror laces her tone as she’s struck by a realisation. The avoidance, the way you’d been so jumpy earlier and had gone to her with questions the past few weeks instead of Aaron…

“Hanahaki…” Spencer says it as the word springs to mind for her. “Hotch…you’re the only one that touched them.” They’re outside, but the temperature drops when they all realise what you’d been hiding. You were in love with him, with your boss- a married man. It didn’t take a genius to realise why it had gotten so bad, the stigma the disease held in the first place was enough to make those that caught it wary of getting help.

It occurred to Aaron at that same time that you had been acting strangely, he had been so caught up with Jack and Haley that he hadn’t had time to notice you. You had been one of his closest friends, once upon a time, but when Haley got pregnant…that’s when it started. Frequent dinners with the two of them became monthly, then special occasions with others, then…nothing. Hell- you’d even declined his invitation to the dumb superbowl party the two of you crashed at Sean’s every year…and he hadn’t noticed. Maybe if you’d said something, or if he’d seen the signs earlier he could’ve let you move past it- he could’ve let you down easy and had his best friend back just as fast. He frantically thinks that maybe there’s still time, and cradles you in his arms, his breathing shallow as he sees your eyes start to roll back.

“No. No, no no-” Hotch jams his fingers in your mouth, almost down your throat, frantic to save you as the petals and blood cling to his fingers. “Please-” He whispers, trying to keep your mouth angled down so anything in it will drop out. You stopped breathing over a minute ago, but he still holds your body close to his chest, desperately crying over it.

“I love you, I love you so much, please don't die- I love you- why isn't it working!?-”

It wouldn't. Of course it wouldn't. Aaron Hotchner loved you…but he wasn't in love with you. Yes, you were his best friend, but you were just that…his friend. His friend who brought wine to every dinner, his friend who was the first to meet his baby boy after Jack's grandparents and at the same time as Haley's sister, His friend who sat through every late night phone call where he stressed over Sean’s future…And now you’re gone.

Blood had been dripping from your mouth…Aaron didn't notice till Rossi took you from his arms and helped the paramedics bag you up- who had called them? He didn't know, he was too distraught just seeing you lifeless. Even after you were gone, your blood and those petals coated his hands and shirt.

He wanted to grab you by the shoulders and scream at you, how could you just sit back and let yourself suffer? How could you be that selfish?- No. No, it wasn’t selfish. You were anything but. You had chosen to let yourself die to something entirely curable so that Aaron could’ve lived his life none the wiser to how you felt…so that he could be happy with his wife and their new baby. His life was supposed to be perfect…but instead he was left with a disease you’d passed onto him…one entirely incurable.

Guilt.

#leowrites #aaron hotchner #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner angst #criminal minds #hanahaki #criminal minds x gn reader #aaron hotchner x gn!reader

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flowerandblood · 5 months

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The Man with the Pearly Hair

[ Amor • Aemond x Psyche • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, fingering, smut, angst, obsession, symptoms of the disease such as fever and convulsions ]

[ description: After she is attacked in a fair by a strange man and narrowly avoids death, her father the king decides that from now on she will be watched over by one of his ‘ghosts’, a assassin acting on his orders, wearing a black mask. The man follows her like a shadow, accompanied by their past, which keeps her awake at night. Gothic horror love story, angst, sexual tension, verydark Aemond. ]

This story is several requests combined into one: sworn protector x female; Amor x Psyche; Phantom of the Opera! Aemond x female. I took the liberty of creating a completely new story from this, having only elements of each of these requests.

Series & Characters Moodboard Lady Walford Moodboard Gothic & Horror Sensual Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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Her husband did not let her experience any peace or rest the night after the ball, informing her that he did not mind if she fell asleep while he was rooting into her sore core. They would fall into sudden, deep slumbers, his arms embracing her tightly.

As soon as he awoke she could hear his murmur of satisfaction caused by her presence and the closeness of her body – his length throbbed inside her, and with tentative, slow movements at first, he would begin all over again.

She felt stunned by the intensity of the sensations, feeling as if they had truly become one flesh, his scent filling her nostrils, her cheek nestled against his chest. After their intense rapture, they fell asleep again, and when she regained consciousness for a moment, she told herself that she couldn't open her eyes, as if Vhagar was lying next to her and not her husband, her King, the man who killed for her.

She would then open her eyes and lift her head, gazing with bliss and peace at his sleeping face. She stroked gently his cheek and hair, afraid that she would wake him. She was only answered by his hum of contentment, his arms clasping around her tighter, pressing her closer to him, his hand sinking into her hair, hugging her cheek to his heart.

She could hear his slow heartbeat, feel his warm breath, and thought she had never felt truly happy before him.

Truly peaceful.

Truly safe.

When, during one of the evenings they spent quietly in his chamber, each sunk in reading a book, sitting by the fireplace, Ser Criston walked in and announced that the bodies of the royal family had finally been found, decisions were made very quickly.

Her husband had ordered the tombs for his family to be made much earlier and they stood empty under the great temple next to the graves of his ancestors, waiting for their burial place to be discovered. She could see the pain mixed with anger on his face when he found out that the bodies of his parents and siblings were buried in a mass grave under the kitchen cellars.

She lowered her gaze with a clenched throat, thinking only of how humiliating it must have been for him, that her father had treated them worse than the murderers, who at least had the opportunity to be buried with prayers and any dignity.

Her husband ordered the work to be expedited and decreed that within the next two days everything was to be prepared for this grand royal funeral, unable to bear the thought that the bodies of his loved ones were lying and rotting, waiting for justice.

He did not speak, he did not eat and he did not sleep, immersed in his own thoughts, sitting for long hours in front of the fireplace and gazing into the flames, joining her only in the morning, seeking refuge in her embrace, tired and distraught.

Even though her father had done all this, she felt complicit.

"My Queen, the dressmakers have not managed to sew a suitably thick gown and cloak for you. It is freezing and snowing outside, why not wear a different gown, such as this one, a brown one?" Suggested one of her servants a few hours before the ceremony. She shook her head without even bestowing a single glance on her, looking in the mirror.

"No. I must wear black, wear mourning by the side of my King. Bring my gown and the cloak I wore at my mother's funeral." She said dispassionately, she heard the women look at each other with concern.

"But Your Grace, you will frown, the material is too thin. Let us at least put your furs on underneath your cloak." Mumbled one of them. She sighed and nodded.

As she rode behind her king-husband, past the row of coffins in front of them, the cold winter air pierced her body like daggers. She closed her eyes, trying to curl into herself, knowing that she faced hours of standing during the funeral ceremony in the cold temple and thought that this would be her punishment for what her father had done.

For the fact that his treacherous blood flowed in her.

Therefore, she hid the quivering of her body by standing behind her husband rather than at his side, wanting to bear it with dignity, thinking of lying down in a warm bed as soon as they returned to their stronghold.

Already on the journey back she felt an excruciating pain in her bones, her head heavy as if someone was squeezing her skull – it seemed to her that the world around her was humming and blurred, struggling to maintain a straight posture.

When they reached the courtyard of the fortress Ser Criston had to help her off her horse; he looked at her for a moment, apparently seeing her pallor, however he said nothing.

He did not trust her knowing who her father was.

She did not resent him for this.

The most important thing for her was to know that he was completely devoted to her husband.

Her King no longer commanded her to come to his chamber, simply disregarding the possibility that she should spend the evening and night anywhere other than with him.

For this reason, she followed him into his quarters feeling her whole body shaking – everything around her seemed blurred and painfully loud, she had the sensation as if someone was breaking her bones.

She swallowed with difficulty, stripping out of her cloak and gown with the help of her servants, one of whom seeing her pale face leaned over her and asked in a whisper.

"My Queen, shall I summon a medic?"

She shook her head, raising her hand in a gesture that informed them that they could leave – all she dreamed of was to lie down and sleep. Her husband only hummed under his breath when she told him she'd already gone to bed, sitting with his back to her by the fireplace, staring into the flames completely absorbed in his thoughts, memories and regrets.

When she lay down she finally felt some kind of relief – she didn't have the strength to turn or move so she just closed her eyes and after a moment there was silence and darkness all around her.

"My love?" She heard as if through a fog someone's voice, his voice, her King, her husband, her death, her beloved shadow. She felt his wonderfully cold hand on her inflamed body – even though she was drenched in sweat, she got the impression that she was freezing all over. "My love, wake up."

"I'm cold." She mumbled out with difficulty, unable to stop her body shivering, each breath made her struggle.

She felt that her lungs and nostrils were on fire.

She heard him swallow loudly and then he was gone, her mind drifting away again. She awoke with difficulty lifting her eyelids, suddenly noticing that the chamber she was in was filled with the light of candles. She could hear conversations all around her, as if there were several people inside, someone's hand washed her forehead and her chest with a cold cloth, bringing her relief.

"My King, we asked her, but she said she was choosing this gown and this cloak and that she would not bring shame to the king, that she must look proper on such an important day, we could not force her." She heard someone's terrified voice and recognised her maid, answered immediately by her husband's cold, mercyless hiss.

"You fucking fools! I'll hang each of you in turn as soon as…"

"− my King −" She muttered quietly, wishing he was by her side, terrified that she couldn't see anything clearly – her head was spinning and she had trouble keeping her eyelids open.

"− I'm so cold − yet at the same time my body seems to be on fire −"

She heard his quick movement, a moment later he was already beside her, his cold, familiar hand caressing her every night touched her cheek – she sighed in relief as she smelled his scent.

"− you have a fever, my love − brother Albert will prepare a decoction at once, which you will have to drink − rest now −"

She lurched as he forced her to drink the disgusting decoction she was nauseous from, the taste of ginger and garlic so intense that her stomach twisted all over.

"− drink − that's an order − you are to obey your King and husband −" He exhaled, holding her cheek painfully tight, tilting her head back so she wouldn't choke, forcing her sip after sip to drink it all to the bottom.

When he finally let her go she cried out loud, terrified and weak, not fully aware of what was really happening to her, forgetting where she was and who she was.

She felt her husband holding her in his arms throughout the night, his hand touching her forehead again and again, checking if her condition was improving. She had a feeling, half asleep, on the verge of consciousness and lack of it, that she heard him praying quietly, lying on his side behind her, his face pressed against her hair.

Gods, who watch over justice in heaven and on earth, have mercy on us.

Gods, who intercede for the poor and despised, have mercy on us.

Gods, who have brought this woman before me and bound me to her for eternity, have mercy on us.

What was empty is full.

What was broken is whole.

What was separated is one.

She tightened her hand on his arm which embraced her hearing his words, feeling a squeeze in her throat. He flinched at the gesture, lifting his head, she felt his anxious breath on her hot cheek.

"− my love? − how do you feel? −" He asked quietly and she swallowed loudly, feeling that she was still hot, her head was spinning and she was in pain all over, but she was no longer trembling.

"− tired, my King − tired and sore −" She whispered, and he sighed heavily, embracing her more tightly, putting his face where it had been a moment before.

"− sleep, my love − your husband is with you −" He whispered, rising after a moment, taking the cloth from her forehead – she heard him dip it in the water and squeeze it out, only to lay it again on her hot skin. She breathed a quiet sigh of relief at how pleasant it felt – he slipped his ice-cold hand under her nightgown and placed it over her heart.

The next day her husband had to attend a meeting and her mother replaced him at her side. She was forced to drink another dose of the medicine, but this time she was able to drink it alone, falling into a restless sleep again afterwards.

Brother Albert found to everyone's relief that her fever was slowly lowering and her body was beginning to fight back, that the worst was probably behind them.

Despite her mother's objections, when she felt a little better in the afternoon she asked to be allowed to take a bath and to change into a new chemise.

Washing her hair and body all drenched in sweat and then putting on a new undershirt made her feel fresh again, and although she felt like her head was going to burst and she had to go to bed again immediately, she regained her appetite and her mother personally went to see to it that everything she needed was brought to her.

She was surprised when one of the lords loyal to her husband since their conspiracy days, who was among his closest advisors, Lord Malet, entered her chamber. He had not announced himself beforehand and surprised her completely with his visit.

"My Queen, I know this is not the right time, however, there is an urgent matter I must discuss with you." He said standing away from her bed. She lifted her gaze to him and sighed heavily, having great difficulty concentrating, everything around her was spinning.

"Speak, my Lord. I am listening to you." She said in a hoarse voice and coughed quietly, sighing heavily. The lord shifted from foot to foot, swallowing loudly, clearly aware that he had to brew words.

"The King has decided today to marry my eldest daughter to an important dignitary of a neighbouring kingdom, to strengthen our alliances. However, I have already promised her hand to someone else. The King will not listen to me and I have come to beg you to intervene in this matter." He said lowly looking at his feet, embarrassed apparently by his request and by having to beg the traitor's daughter for help.

She let out a quiet breath, recognising that this matter required great delicacy and forethought – her husband was like a burning flame and all it took was a moment's inattention for him to set everything around them on fire in his rage.

"− I will try, my Lord −"

Her husband walked into their chamber as her mother was helping her eat the broth. Something about the sight pleased him; he hummed, coming closer to them with his hands clasped behind his back, his forehead lightened and smoothed.

"− my wife −" He said softly, and she nodded, not having the strength to do anything else.

"− I will take care of her now, my Lady −" He directed his words to her mother, and although the tone of his voice was calm, one could hear that he was not giving her any opportunity to object.

She nodded, handing him a half-empty plate of soup and stood up, stroking her head, telling her to rest.

As soon as the door closed behind her, her husband pulled the eye patch from his face, accustomed to not wearing it in her presence. He sat down next to her on the bed, putting on a spoonful of soup and placing it under her mouth. This time she did not stand up to him and ate slowly even though she was already full.

"− I'm glad you've got your appetite back −" He said lowly, relief and weariness in his voice at the same time – she knew he hadn't slept through the night, exhausted after the funeral and terrified of her condition. She swallowed quietly, gathering herself with difficulty to get out what she wanted to say.

"Lord Malet paid me a visit today." She began hesitantly, lifting her gaze to him. She saw that he looked at her surprised, vigilance in his healthy eye, his brow furrowed.

"What did he want from you? Why was he bothering you in such a state?" He asked with an air of annoyance and displeasure. She pressed her lips together, feeling her heart pounding fast.

"He came to ask me to help him in a matter concerning his daughter." She said slowly and saw him lick his lower lip furiously. He chuckled under his breath, however there was no laugh of amusement – he ran his hand over his mouth and chin impatiently.

"I see. Do not think about it." He said dryly, indicating to her that he intended to end the subject, putting another spoonful of soup on her.

"He is her father, Aemond." She made another attempt – he saw his jaw clench, his lips forming thin line, his nostrils moving restlessly.

He tried not to explode.

"And I am her King. She lives to fulfil her role for the kingdom." He said harshly, coldly, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

She could see in his gaze the threat that one more ill-considered word from her and he would lose his temper.

"If your father had told you to marry another woman instead of me, would you have done it?" She asked quietly, feeling her words hang in the ether; she saw the shock and fear in his gaze, his lips twitched – she could see he hesitated.

"…yes."

She looked at him with her lips slightly parted, feeling a tightening in her heart and in her stomach, some horrible, cold kind of disappointment flowed through her body, the realisation of who she was in his eyes.

A favourite, but still, just a pawn.

She answered nothing more, lowering her gaze, feeling only a terrible headache, only fatigue, only resignation.

"However, I fear she would soon meet with an unfortunate accident that would make me a widower." He added after a moment and she looked at him in disbelief, feeling her heart pounding rapidly.

He stared at her, his healthy eye wide open, focused only on her, a certain, cold, piercing gaze that would see every lie and hesitation, every weakness.

"The daughters of lords in the kingdom would die until you were the only candidate to become my wife. You know very well that I am very patient." He added in a half-whisper – she swallowed loudly as she saw him set the bowl of the soup down on the table next to their bed.

"You and I are like the sun and the moon. Like north and south. Like day and night." He hummed with delight, grinning uneasily to himself, his fingertips running over her warm cheek.

"Do you think I would let any other man take you as his wife? I'd let anyone else touch you? Hm?" He asked softly, but there was a sweet threat in his voice that sent a shiver through her. She shook her head, despite her fatigue and weakness feeling the throbbing between her thighs at his words, so dark, threatening, certain.

"And you? What would you have done if I had not come to you that night? If your treacherous father had married you off?" He asked lowly, quietly, looking at her vigilantly, more like an animal than a human being, searching for any signal of hesitation or falsehood.

"My husband would find me dead in his bed before he had time to touch me, to bruise me of the only thing left of my dignity." She whispered with a certainty from which he licked his lower lip quickly.

He began to breathe involuntarily through his mouth as he stared at her with wide-open eye, his sapphire gleaming mischievously in the moonlight streaming through the window into his chamber.

She sighed quietly as she felt his hand slide from her cheek down her neck to her breasts and lower abdomen, lifting her nightgown with an impatient motion, his fingers sinking into her hot, soft womanhood.

Her lips parted in a quiet, dreamy moan as he began to explore her condition, meeting her wetness between her slit – she saw a smirk appear on his face from which her walls pulsed hard around nothing.

"Destroy me. Leave me with nothing. Those were your words. Weren't they?" He gasped, his fingertips trailing between her folds, teasing her bud, her thighs involuntarily spread wider, the pleasure and tickle she felt in her lower abdomen making her feel even more stupefied.

"Yes." She mumbled quietly, innocently, with a sigh, as if the very memory of the intense, brutal act that was their first physical intimacy when he took her maidenhood brought her some kind of relief.

She shuddered as she felt his finger begin to slide tentatively inside her, teasing her opening with a click of her moisture, looking at her with some kind of intrigue.

"You didn't know who I was, and yet you let me take you. You longed to become my wife. Why?" He asked low, his voice deep and resonant, and she realised that this was the first time he had ever broached the subject of his or her feelings in any way, that he was allowing her into places of his mind that no one else had access to.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to focus, feeling weakened and at the same time distracted by the tickle she felt between her thighs, the tension that grew in her with each passing moment as his fingers dug harder into her throbbing heat, sliding out of her only to slide back in.

"− because you were like death − like a dark veil, a shroud, a coffin, and I felt dead − it seemed so right −" She whispered and she heard him draw in the air loudly, as if her words had startled him, his thumb beginning to run over her pearl and tease her as his fingers pressed the spot inside her hidden in her folds with sure, circular motions.

"− do you still feel dead? −" He exhaled in a trembling voice, as if there was something in the sight of her, in the way she moaned softly and wriggled helplessly, without the strength to resist him, from which he was losing his temper.

"− sometimes − but not with you − never with you −" She mumbled, glancing up at him wearily – his face looking different from usual, breathing loudly along with her, his full lips parted slightly, his eyebrows arched as if in worry, his eye misty, full of affection and longing.

"− if I will not be violent − will you let me? −" He asked in a quivering voice, and she nodded, knowing what he wanted, knowing what he needed.

He undressed, allowing her hand to untie the ribbon in his hair as he leaned over her, gently stroking her face with his fingers. He lay down between her thighs looking down at her, lifting the material of her nightgown only over her thighs, not wanting her to get cold.

She felt the head of his cock pushing against her slit and she sighed softly, spreading her thighs wider, wanting to make his task easier. He rooted into her surprisingly tentatively and slowly, sliding out several times, as if he wanted her insides to adjust to such intense filling.

It was such a surprisingly pleasurable and tender sensation that she began to moan quietly beneath him, stroking his cheeks and hair, their mouths meeting with each other in a sticky, hot, slow kiss, then another and another, their lips trailing over each other, their hot breaths surrounding their faces.

She ran her fingertips over the skin of his scarred cheek, feeling his thrusts begin to grow deeper and more confident, they both started to pant as a thrill of pleasure shuddered through them. She clasped her hands on his bare buttocks, rubbing against him so that he pressed the wonderful spot inside her each time he slided inside her.

"− yes − oh, yes −" She whispered, tilting her head back, his lips slid down to her neck, placing small, greedy kisses on her skin, leaving a wet trail on it, sucking and licking her naked flesh, rooting into her with the sure, deep thrusts of his hips, her walls clenching against him steadily.

"− am I causing you pain? − do you want to stop? −" He muttered between his pushes, with the remnants of his strong will trying to remember that she was still weakened and sick, that just a few hours ago she had a fever and should now be resting, not exerting herself.

However, he had never done this to her in such a gentle way before and she shook her head quickly, breathing loudly along with him.

"− n-no − please − please, husband, it feels so good −" She mewled, massaging his neck with her palm – she heard him groan low, his manhood throbbed hard inside her. He immediately sped up his pace, taking her hot hips in his hands, pounding confidently and deeply into her, slapping his thighs against her buttocks with a loud click of her moisture.

"− fuck − so good −" He exhaled looking down at her with his lips parted wide – she clamped her hands on the pillow on either side of her head, feeling her walls suck him inside, soaking his cock, his pace increasingly intense and fast.

All that came out of her mouth was a mumble as she came suddenly, pleasure shook her body and she just began to moan helplessly, trying to push him away, but to no avail – he pressed his hands against the bedding, slamming into her like mad, panting and groaning loudly, allowing himself to be more vocal than usual, his forehead pressed against hers.

"− just a little longer, my love − I'm so close − oh, gods, fuck, fuck, fuck! −" He gasped loudly, with a few final, desperate thrust filling her with his seed, his face expressing fulfilment and bliss. They panted for a moment with their eyes closed, still rocking their hips, trying to calm themselves.

She stroked his soft, long hair as his body fell gently on top of her, completely without strength, making sure he didn't crush her with his weight.

"You have possessed my body and soul." He whispered in her ear, his large hands still stroking her thighs and buttocks in a soothing, calm motion.

"You have broken into my mind. Into my heart. I feel that I'm losing my mind. That I have crossed the line leading into madness." He muttered in a trembling voice and, without knowing why, she felt herself smiling, her lips placing a tender, warm kiss on his bare, sweaty shoulder, her fingers running over his back.

"We both crossed it long time ago, my love."

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla @echos-muses @ipostwhtifeel @letmeloveyouuuu

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hytkskai738382 · 1 year

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*price drunk *

Price: I have a disease that has (your height)

*M! reader enters the room*

Price: and just got in there, at that door. The symptoms are increasing 😭 my chest hurts...

Graves: I hope it's a heart attack *whispers*

Price: if it's love i'm fucked

(SOOO CRAZY BUT IT'S A SONG OK?)

#cod x male reader #gay #task force 141 x male reader #male reader #john price x male reader

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luna-writes-stuff · 8 months

Note

How do you think Crowley and Castiel would react to a reader with hanahaki disease? Here...angst! x3

I see what you’re doing anon. I don’t know if it was you who sent the question or not but it’s so sweet you keep my preferences in mind! Hope you enjoy it <33

——

Castiel

Though the angel knows a lot, he can be painfully oblivious at times. He would never knowingly hurt you, but as an angel, you figured he’d have more on his mind than care for a mortal. As you and Cas grow closer, so do he and Dean. Misconceptions are easy to form if you’ve never properly addressed your ideas and speculations, so you’d quickly gather that you might be a lost cause in this. As it gets worse, Cas takes notice, remarking your state as ‘you look sick’ or ‘you haven’t been sleeping well’. He doesn’t notice the petals until it’s nearly too late. You were on a hunt with the Winchester but was confined to the motel room after Sam claimed you might need some rest. Cas was looking for the boys when he strolled into the room, noticing blood covered petals in the bathroom. That is when he finally puzzles the pieces together, referring to it as an ancient disease from Japan. Filled in tears and chaos, you finally confess to him and why you never addressed it. You nearly collapse into his arms as he uses his grave to ultimately soothe you. He keeps close to you as Sam and Dean try to look from a cure, just to find out it is only Cas who can help you. Though completely inexperienced with human relationships, he tries to make it work.

——

Crowley

Crowley is one of the most perceptive people out there. In his line of business, he has to be. He notices the symptoms early on but dismisses them, thinking he’d probably embarrass himself as he did. When he finally notices it getting worse he starts piecing everything together, ultimately finding out that it was him who had been causing all this ruckus. He simply points it out to you, not giving you time to even question how and when he found out. When he didn’t reveal he reciprocated your feelings, you ran out, trying to preserve your dignity by not bursting into tears immediately. Crowley thinks he was probably one way or the other and takes this as his queue to leave. When he reappears a day later, trying to see if you are okay, you refuse to speak back to him. It would have to be him who has to admit their feelings aloud - whatever happens. He helps you gain some peace and goes out to find something that can help speed up your process of healing. He’d have you by his side constantly until the final symptoms have finally cleared up.

#spn #supernatural #Castiel #castiel x reader #Crowley #spn crowley #crowley x reader #spn Crowley x reader

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sparklypinkflightsuit · 2 months

Text

The Containment Diaries: Entry 5

Pairing: Virologist!Bob Floyd x Reader AND Aviator!Bradley Bradshaw

ApocalypseAU

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, Warfare, Disease, Military Inaccuracies, Medical and Science Inaccuracies, Angst, Fluff, Alcohol, Breakdowns, Gore, I think that’s it?

- Entry 4 Here -

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Additional Warning: This Entry is mostly just a whole lotta smut, more apocalypse fun to follow in Entry 6

18+ only beyond this point

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You walked down the hall and stood for a moment outside room 12B. Part of you wasn’t sure if you were making the right choice in going to see Bradley, but something was pulling you to him.

You knocked three times and waited. You heard a shuffling inside and the door flew open. Bradley stood in front of you in sweats and shirtless, his dog tags dangling delicately in between his pecks. You immediately flushed bright red.

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure what time to come.” You bit your lip.

“You’re right on time, come in.” He grinned, grabbing your hand and pulling you inside.

“Right on time for what?” You laughed, hovering by the door.

“Sit, I’ll show you.” You did as he said and sat down on the small single bed you were sure was nowhere near big enough for someone Bradley’s size. He disappeared into the small en-suite and returned a moment later with a bottle of red wine and two plastic cups.

“I thought alcohol was strictly prohibited onboard?” You queried, but eagerly reaching for a cup as he poured. You needed a drink after the last few crazy days.

“It is, but… remember that Godfather I mentioned? Well lately he’s been more of a fairy Godfather, with everything going on he’s been a little less strict than usual, and he was never all that strict to begin with.” He chuckled, sitting next to you with his cup and cheersing you.

You smiled at him as you took a sip, immediately relaxing. “What’s the occasion?”

Bradley went quiet for a moment, and then looked into your eyes, suddenly serious.

“We’re flying out to the mainland tomorrow. It’s gotten bad Rue.” He nodded, a somber look taking over his usually cheerful face.

“Wait, what do you mean? Flying out for what?” You asked, suddenly filled with nerves.

“According to the CDC infection rates have skyrocketed, symptoms are slow to start but when they do they’re goddamn fast, and that’s just causing widespread panic, it’s absolute chaos. Tactical bombing has turned to just nuking whole cities, and we’re only a few days in. They want us on the ground with our army boys and girls to try and control the situation.” He said gravely, and your heart thumped aggressively in your chest.

“Bradley, you can’t…” you breathed, suddenly terrified for him.

“Don’t have a choice.” Bradley shrugged, “That’s why I was hoping to see you tonight.” He admitted. His face was close enough that you could smell the wine on his breath.

“You need to come back.” You told him.

“If I know you’re here waiting for me, I’ll do everything I can to come back.” He rasped.

You pressed your lips to his gently, suddenly desperate to feel him against you, thinking this may be your one and only chance.

Bradley took your drink from your hand and put it on his side table sloppily, wine spilling out over the sides. He pulled your legs so you were straddling him as he kissed you back, his hands remaining on your upper thighs.

You sighed into him and wrapped your arms around his neck as his strong hands squeezed your thighs, kissing him harder.

Bradley flipped you over so you were laying against his bed, as he continued his assault on your lips.

You pulled away for a moment to breathe and he moved to your neck, placing sloppy kisses down to your collar bone.

He grabbed the hem of your t shirt and pulled it over your head, and then tugged your sweats off in one quick motion.

You suddenly felt self conscious as the cool air kissed your skin, clad in nothing but your small black underwear.

Bradley took a moment to admire you, his eyes blown and his mouth hung open slightly.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered.

“Come here.” You mumbled, hooking a finger around his dog tags and gently pulling him to you. Bradley crawled back up your body until his lips were back on yours, his bare skin hot against yours.

You made out for what felt like forever, savouring the feeling of each others lips and hands as they explored one another, before Bradley’s fingers found your bra clasp, and rid you of the offending item. His hand immediately replaced the bra and you moaned loudly at the feeling, bucking up into him.

“That feel good?” Bradley mumbled in between kissing your neck. You whimpered as he ground his hips into you.

“Yes.” You hissed, and he did it again, before moving down and capturing your nipple in his mouth.

You needed more, all Bradley was doing was teasing you. It had been such a long time since you’d last been intimate with anyone, and the sexual tension from the last few days was proving to be too much.

You hooked your thumbs into your underwear sides and yanked them down, causing Bradley’s jaw to drop fully as he looked down. He sat back on his heels and slowly peeled your underwear off of your legs, gently kissing your ankles as he lifted them.

He slid two fingers into his mouth and sucked, before spreading your legs apart and making eye contact with you.

“You want this?” He asked.

You nodded.

“Tell me how badly you want it.” He growled.

“I want you so bad!” You mewled at him, growing frustrated and impatient. The man looked like a God in the lamp light, golden and chiselled, you couldn’t take it.

Bradley grinned at you and slowly ran his fingers through your soaking wet folds. Your back arched at the sensation, begging for more.

Carefully, he slid a thick finger inside you, you moaned and bucked again as a second finger entered, and he began to pump, his thumb rubbing lazy circles into your clit.

“Fuck!” You cried, and he began to move faster, pulling whimpers from your mouth as you squirmed below him.

He palmed himself through his sweatpants as he watched his handiwork unfold, your wetness growing as his fingers slid in and out.

Your stomach began to tighten but you didn’t want it to yet. “Bradley stop! I need you.” You whined, now looking at him.

“Yes ma’am.” He purred, standing to remove his sweats and underwear. His rock hard member slapped against his chiselled torso, the size of him sure to tear you apart, but you didn’t care.

He climbed on top of you and kissed you passionately, you wrapped your legs around him as he positioned his tip at your entrance. You bucked again, and his tip slid in, stretching you in a way that made you want to cry out in pleasure. You and Bradley bucked in rhythm as more and more of him slid inside you, he grunted loudly, almost animalistically when he was fully seated.

“Oh my god, you feel so good.” He gasped, thrusting slowly.

You couldn’t speak, instead a series of pornographic noises between the two of you became a sort of communication as you paid all the attention to one another’s bodies. Rocking into one another and causing the metal framed bed to pound against the wall, your legs wrapped tightly around him.

You cried out and your body shuddered violently as you reached your climax, clenching around Bradley even tighter, causing him to reach his own end. His thrusts became sloppy and fast, as he bit your shoulder, grunting loudly as he came undone.

He collapsed on top of you and you both panted together, stealing a few more kisses until you had regained enough strength to pull away.

You cleaned yourselves up and spent the rest of the evening drinking wine in your underwear and sharing kisses in between conversation, until it was 3am and you knew you had to say goodnight.

“I don’t want you to go.” You admitted, terrified of what waited for him on the mainland.

“I have to, there are a lot of people counting on me. They need me.” Bradley stroked your hair as you leaned against the open door frame.

“What if I need you?”

Bradley smiled and kissed you for a long moment. “You don’t need me. But I’m coming back for you, Rue girl.” He promised as he pulled away.

“You better.” You smiled at him one last time before you walked down the hall to your room.

————————————

You spent the next day very much unable to focus. Every time you tried desperately to focus on the very important task at hand, your mind slipped inadvertently back to Bradley, and your stomach knotted with worry.

Bob had noticed your lack of mental presence and concentration, but chose not to say anything, as he knew it was not his place.

That was until around 2pm, when due to being distracted, you had knocked a glass beaker off of your desk and it landed with a deafening crash in the otherwise silent room, everyone turning to stare at you, like you had done something unforgivable.

You couldn’t hold in the frustration and pent up emotions anymore, so you huffed, rid yourself of your lab coat and stormed out of the room, muttering that you’d be back to clean up the glass later.

Bob looked around at your colleagues with wide eyes, “Everyone carry on with your work, I’ll be back.” He instructed, running after you.

He found you down the end of the long hallway, your hands covering your face as you paced, your chest heaving as you panted through what he thought looked to be the makings of a panic attack.

He crossed the hallway quickly and took you in his arms, “Hey, hey, it’s ok.” He muttered, as you melted into him and began to cry.

“Hey, it was just a beaker, we have more.” He chuckled softly.

“No, that’s not it.” You sobbed.

“Then tell me what’s going on.” He said, pulling away slightly so he could look at you, stroking your hair.

“I can’t.” Your bottom lip jutted in a pout, and Bobs heart melted. He looked around the hallway, and gave you a quick but sweet kiss.

You hummed.

“Yes you can, you can tell me anything Rue.” He pressed. You kissed him back, longer this time, your lips wet with tears.

“I can’t Bob, just trust me that I can’t. I need a distraction.” You breathed, beginning to unbutton Bobs shirt.

“Woah woah, hey, not here.” He breathed, taking your hand and pulling you down the hall.

Once you had reached Bobs room, he closed the door, and you pushed him up against it, kissing him hungrily.

“Wait, Rue. I can’t do this when you’re upset.” He grabbed your hands gently and pushed you backwards until your legs hit the bed and you sat down.

You huffed, “Then why’d you bring me back here, Bob?”

“Because I want you to talk to me, what’s going on with you today?” The worried look on his face unfaltering. God he was so handsome, you just wanted to rip his clothes off and-

“Rue?” Bob pressed. You sighed, throwing yourself back on the bed as you stared up at the ceiling.

You contemplated whether or not it was a good idea to tell him, ultimately deciding to be honest.

“Bradley and his squad have been sent to the mainland, he says it’s gotten out of control, Bob. And here I am unable to focus enough on a stupid cure that could fix it all.”

“I’m assuming Bradley’s the other guy?” Bob sighed. You nodded.

Bob leant back so he was laying next to you, and he took your hand in his, threading his fingers in between them.

“Listen, it’s not our fault that the outbreak started, so that at least shouldn’t be on your mind. Here we are being tasked with this mammoth, burden of a responsibility that we had zero say in, and we’re doing our best. You’re doing your best. There are going to be good days and bad, Rue, don’t put too much pressure on yourself.”

You turned your head to look at him, weighing up his words as you got lost in his cobalt eyes. You turned your head back to the ceiling and sighed heavily.

“Bradley and I fucked last night.” You blurted out.

Bobs eyes went wide, and he joined you in staring at the ceiling again.

“Do you want to be with him… more?” He asked.

“No, my feelings for you both are equal. It’s not fair I know, but… you’re both so different, both in incredible ways. You can tell me to fuck off if you want.”

Bob chuckled suddenly in surprise. “No, I won’t do that. I want you too badly.”

You looked at him again, and brought a hand over to caress his face gently.

You bit your lips at his words, you wanted him so badly in that moment.

“Will you fuck me, Bob?” You asked, not caring about how crass your question came across.

Bob shook his head, “No.” he mumbled. Your heart sank.

“I won’t fuck you Rue, but I’ll make love to you if you’ll let me.”

Your heart thrummed against your chest, as Bob rolled over to his side.

His hand gently skimmed the bare skin of your stomach that peaked through under your T-shirt. The feeling sent electric shocks through you.

He dipped his head and captured your lips hungrily, and your hands moved to tangle in his hair.

Bob gently drew patterns on your skin before his fingers dipped below your jeans, eliciting a gasp from you as they slipped below your underwear and through your already slick folds.

Bob wasted no time in slipping inside you as he kissed your lips, his tongue licking across your bottom lip to ask for entrance. You granted this and his tongue slipped into your mouth, expertly exploring yours.

He slipped in a second thick finger and began to pump gently, you moaned into his mouth and your chest heaved as you began to pant with pleasure. You could feel Bob growing harder and harder through his pants against your leg, and you moved your hand to rub his bulge.

Bob grunted at the feeling and you took this as permission to clumsily unzip his pants, pumping his now free cock slowly. God he was also massive, your poor body would be stretched and bruised but you didn’t care. Bob growled lowly into your lips, and his thumb moved to rub gentle circles into your now throbbing clit. You bucked your hips at the feeling and Bob picked up the pace until you were panting and whining for more than just his delicious hands on you.

Bob bit your bottom lip and pulled away, you immediately missed the stretch of his fingers and lips on yours.

Bob stood and unbuttoned his shirt while you watched, you were a little surprised at how chiselled and tanned he was below his professional attire, and once he rid himself of his pants, he no longer looked like Dr Bob Floyd from Virology, no, this man was your Bobby. Messy hair, wild eyes behind his steamy glasses, a perfect body and veiny arms, he looked different somehow.

You sat up and whipped your shirt off, and shimmied out of your jeans until you were just in your underwear. Bob held up a hand to instruct you to leave them on as he crawled back up to you. He slowly kissed a line up your legs, stopping to give extra attention to your hot core through your soaking underwear. You threw your head back against the mattress as he licked a stripe up the fabric and moved to pepper kisses along your stomach and up the valley of your breasts. He snuck a hand behind your back and unclasped your bra, using his teeth to pull it off of you. He took a second to marvel at your body below him, naked and soft and beautiful, as he dropped your bra into his lap and threw it aside.

Bob then took two large hands and wrapped them around your upper thighs, pulling you down the bed, closer to him. He rubbed his hands teasingly up your thighs, and hooked his fingers in your soaking underwear, pulling them off slowly.

Bob spat into his hand and pumped himself, before running his fingers through your folds again, dipping back inside you and curling his fingers expertly against your g spot.

You choked out a pleasured sob as you clenched around his fingers, and he slowly removed them.

Bob looked you in the eyes as he positioned himself at your entrance, and slowly pushed into you. You gasped and Bob moaned at the feeling of him stretching out your tight walls.

“Bobby!” You cried, back arching and eyes closing tight. His hands squeezed around your thighs as he let you both adjust to the feeling.

“W-want me to stop?”

You shook your head, “No, don’t stop. You feel so good, please move.” You begged, and Bob did as he was told, his mouth half hanging open in pleasure and half in a crooked grin. Sitting back on his heels with your lower half angled up towards him, he thrust into you slowly, gripping one hand on your thigh as the other moved to your hip, pulling you into him. Grunts of pleasure left Bobs lips as he thrust, and you felt you might scream from the pleasure. Bob felt incredible, there was something about his slow and intentional movements that sent shockwaves through you.

The hand that had been on your thigh moved to your stomach, and flattened against you as he pressed down gently. You now felt Bobs thick cock rubbing against your cervix walls, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your jaw hanging open.

“Oh my god!” You cried, your hands gripping the sheets as you bucked your hips into him hard.

Bob picked up his pace and began to thrust harder, now leaning over you. He grabbed your jaw and tilted your face to look at him, your brows furrowed and you bit your lip.

“Tell me how I make you feel.” He instructed, this new Bob was seriously turning you on.

Bradley had done you well and good the night before, it was pleasurable and beautiful and left you wobbling afterwards, but this was a whole new ballgame, shy Bob could fuck.

You were a blabbering mess, unable to get any words out as he ground into you.

“I said, tell me how I make you feel.” He instructed again, his thumb pushing into your mouth. You gently bit down on the digit and Bob hissed.

“Like that. That’s how you make me feel.” You whined.

Bob grinned and planted his lips to yours again as he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder.

“You feel incredible.” He moaned into you. “Now come for me like a good girl.”

This sent you over the edge, your eyes rolling again as your back arched. Bob took one of your nipples into his mouth and swirled his hot tongue around it.

“Bob I’m gonna cum, don’t… don’t stop.” You moaned loudly, and Bob picked up the pace, thrusting harder into you as his lips moved to suck bruises into your neck.

“That’s my good, dirty girl.” He growled into your neck, and that was your undoing. You nails dug into his back as you bucked violently, clenching around him as you screamed his name.

Bob followed shortly after, the scene unfolding under him too hot to ignore, and hot ropes of cum spilt into you as he cursed loudly, his thrusting grew sloppy and ground to a halt.

Panting, he hovered over you for several minutes, admiring your beautiful flustered face, eyes black with lust and swollen lips. You lifted a hand to remove his foggy glasses so you could look into his eyes, a bead of sweat rolling down his neck and down his red chest.

“Not gonna lie, the glasses really get me going.” You chuckled, and Bob collapsed with his head on your chest as he laughed.

You both eventually made it back to the lab, walking on wobbly legs and both very clearly having been up to something. The smiles on your faces evidently opposite to how you had left the room.

Safe to say you received a few glares from your female colleagues as you went back to work, but at least now you could focus on the task at hand.

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- Entry 6 Here -

I don’t have a Taglist for this series but I will be updating my Masterlist as I go 💛

Likes and reblogs super welcome and appreciated!

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macgyvermedical · 8 months

Note

Curious if you know much about food sensitivity testing. My cousin's SIL is purportedly a wellness NP and has their whole family getting their sensitivities checked every 3-6 months with lab draws. I always thought allergy testing was done with scratch test on skin. And like how do you cast a wide enough net to test for everything? I didn't think labs really worked like that? I thought you kind of had to test for specific things and almost like a process of elimination.

It seems as though every time cousin gets tested there is a whole list of foods she should remove from her diet because she is "sensitive" to them. It always feels like that list is whatever she's been eating most recently (and usually that food is something that she used as a replacement for something she was sensitive to last time) for example she cut out cow's milk and went oat because oat was ok on the list. Then all of a sudden oat wasn't ok anymore and she went coconut. Now coconut is supposedly causing trouble. Cousin said she didn't think she was having issues with it but is now looking for alternatives and I'm just worried about her.

When I asked the SIL what the sensitivities mean the response was that it causes inflammation which can lead to skin conditions, weight gain, problems in the digestive tract, or cancer.

Obviously I know food sensitivities exist and that there's a lot of processed garbage in our food the whole thing just feels off.

No worries if you don't want to answer thing or if you don't know. This is partially me venting in your askbox

Before we can talk about what your SIL is probably doing, we have to talk about food allergies, food sensitivities, and how we test for them.

A food allergy is an inappropriate immune reaction to a chemical that is present in a food.

The first type is the "immediate" type. When the food is ingested, the body's immune system misidentifies one or more proteins in that food as dangerous and "overreacts" by creating an antibody called immunoglobulin E. Immunoglobulin E (aka IgE), triggers the release of histamine and other chemicals that, in the extreme excess caused by IgE, cause symptoms like itching, swelling, hives, low blood pressure, difficulty breathing, vomiting and diarrhea. These symptoms can be life threatening. Less severe versions of this can trigger gastritis, brain fog, asthma, and non-life-threatening versions of the symptoms listed above.

Proteins from peanuts, tree nuts, cow's milk, eggs, fish, shellfish, soy, wheat, and sesame cause about 90% of these allergic reactions.

There are other immune reactions and other Immunoglobulins. For example, there is immunoglobulin G, which serves as a "memory" and helps protects against viruses and bacteria. IgG essentially makes an impression of everything that comes into the body. When you get titers drawn to determine whether you're immune to something (a test you might need to get if you work in the medical field), the test looks for specific types of IgG to determine whether your body still remembers the virus or bacteria you were immunized against or exposed to. More about this later.

IgG, along with IgA and IgM can contribute to autoimmune conditions like MS, graves disease, rheumatoid arthritis, and lupus (which are very technically allergic reactions to oneself).

A food sensitivity or intolerance on the other hand is a condition caused when a person doesn't have the necessary enzymes or microbiome to digest a particular sugar or protein in a food. Food sensitivities do not have anything to do with the immune system. Instead, they have to do with digestion. A food sensitivity often results in bloating, gas, diarrhea, and abdominal pain. While unpleasant, you won't die from an intolerance or sensitivity.

While not technically an allergy or a sensitivity, people also may have conditions that are exacerbated by certain foods, such as sugar or wheat exacerbating arthritis.

Now onto the testing. Allergy testing comes in several forms. You can do blood testing for specific allergens by looking for specific IgE allergens. For example, if you suspect you are allergic to peanuts, you can have blood drawn to check for peanut IgEs. You can also do a skin test, where a section of skin is marked with a grid and small amounts of allergens, along with control solutions, are injected into each section. A welt forms if the substance triggers histamine, and means the person is allergic to the substance. Another test is simply to give the food (in a controlled setting) in increasing amounts until the person has an observable reaction.

For non-dangerous allergic reactions and intolerances, an elimination diet can be done, where a person limits themselves to foods they know are completely safe, wait for symptoms to go away, and then start adding in foods one by one and documenting responses. This can take several months but can be worth it for someone who feels they have many foods that trigger unpleasant symptoms.

What your SIL is probably doing:

There are many companies that offer home allergy testing. This is usually done with a card, where someone places a few drops of blood on the card, mails it in, and gets results for between 90 and 100 different substances.

The problem is, home allergy tests do not test for IgEs. They test for IgGs. Remember that IgGs don't have anything to do with allergic reactions- just the presence or absence of a recent ingestion. All IgG testing does is say "yup, dude ate some peanuts recently".

You might then connect "hey, when I eat wheat my arthritis gets worse, and you said arthritis is partially caused by IgGs" well yes, but your arthritis is caused by IgGs that have identified your cells (among other things), while the antibodies tested for in the test are the ones which have identified the wheat proteins. Just any ol IgG won't do- it's gotta be specific. Wheat may be doing something to aggravate your arthritis, but wheat IgG's aren't what that is.

To be clear, this isn't just my opinion. Every allergy-related organization in the world is in agreement- IgG testing does nothing to determine what you're actually allergic to. We have lots of tests that work for that. IgG testing just tests for what you've eaten or been exposed to recently. Which sounds exactly like what your cousin is experiencing.

R E F E R E N C E S

#reference #allergies #medical

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