#and I hope the day is nice and there's nice weather and my cough is not so bad and yesyes

[luveline]

hii hope youre doing well! could i request coworker!james where r comes in to work sick and he gets worried?

fem!reader, 1.3k

It’s getting old, the whole charade. James didn’t like you and now he does. You used to piss him off, now you don’t. Somehow, someway, he’s seen parts of you he couldn’t help but love, in your voice, how you talk; in your hands, your touch; in your emails worst of all. Who ever thought that James could fall in love on Outlook? 

Dearest desk mate,

Where are you? It’s 9.45 and you aren’t here. You realise work starts at 8.30? Besides my worry, I need the invoice for Lang and Co. and Remus doesn’t have them either.

You’re my only hope, 

James

You email back a stringy fifteen minutes later. 

James, 

I’ll be there soon. I can’t attach the file from my phone but I will send it to you the second second I get there, I know you asked meyesterday. I’m sorry for holding you up .

James reads your email with a frown. Your typos are unlike you. He wonders if perhaps you’re texting and driving, which is abhorrent, but you walk into the office a minute later, so you must’ve been responding to him as you walked. 

You duck straight into the manager’s office. James can hear you say sorry before the door is fully closed, craning his neck for a good look at you. 

Remus laughs shamelessly. “Worried about her?” 

“About who?” he asks, even as his chair creaks and threatens to snap under his weight, leaning back to see you through the frosted glass. 

“She’s not going anywhere now she’s here, James. Nobody stops by for social visits.” 

James relents when he realises you may be in there for a little while. The rain today is aggressive against the window, condensation dripping down the windows to pool atop the radiators. You hate it; you love the radiators when they’re working in the winter, but sad summer days with rubbish weather bog you down. Either way, the condensation wets your elbows or gathers on your desk —it’s not nice. James grabs a wad of tissues from the box on his desk and begins his quick mission. 

“Oh, my god. Jamie, you can’t be serious.” 

“I'm avoiding electrocution.” 

“You’re cleaning up for her,” Remus says, putting his face in his hand to watch him with a softer smile, “it’s nice of you, really, but you can’t expect me to pretend I believe you when you say you don’t like her for much longer if you’re going to do stuff like this.” 

“Now say that five times fast.” 

His heart drops when you clear your throat, caught, sodden tissue in hand. You don’t eyeball him, there’s no scorn, you clear your throat again and all but collapse into your seat. 

“Hey,” James says. 

You tip your head back. “Hi, James.” Your eyes are bloodshot, and, to James’ surprise, you aren’t wearing a lick of makeup. You look very pretty but very tired, too. 

“You okay?” 

Remus bends around the desktop. “Yeah, are you okay? 

“I’m fine,” you drop your head back with some vertigo, and press your hands to your eyes. “I’m not very well, is all.” 

“What’s wrong?” Remus asks. 

“Just poorly. Um, I have a bad headache, and my ears are ringing, but it’s not unmanageable. I’m full of sudafed.” 

“Can’t you go home? We can manage without you until you’re better,” Remus says.

“I had all that time off a few weeks ago,” you say. You’d been ill not so long ago. 

“You can have some of my sick days,” James says immediately. 

You rub your eyes hard enough to make James’ ache in sympathy. “Doesn’t work like that.” 

“You really shouldn’t be here if you’re sick,” James says. 

“I won’t get you sick, I promise. I brought hand sanitizer, I’m not sneezing or coughing, I’m just aching.” Your movements are lethargic as you lean back in your chair, the slow roll of your shoulders and the limp cross of your arms over your stomach hard to ignore. 

James rounds the desk to chuck his tissues in the little bin beneath it. “I don’t think either of us are worried about you getting us sick, lovely.” 

Your face crumples quickly and neatens up again just as fast. “My head just hurts,” you say, rubbing your forehead. You manage to summon a wobbly smile despite your pinched brows. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” 

If it were Sirius, James would thrust a bottle of water and a pack of ibuprofen at him and tell him to chill out. It it were Remus, the expression would turn his heart, and he’d give his friend a good pat on the back. You aren’t Sirius nor Remus, you’re not so close to him that James knows what to do, but what use is he if he doesn’t try?

“Can I make you a cup of tea?” James asks. 

“That’s cruel,” Remus says, “your tea is like milky disappointment.” He stands with a smile James hates, some playful conniving mixture with good intentions deep, deep down. “I’ll make it. James, why don’t you turn the radiator?” 

“Is that okay?” James asks. 

“What?” 

“Do you think that’ll make you feel better, the radiator?” James asks. 

“I can do it.”

“No, it’s okay, it hurts your hand. I’ll turn it up.” He weaves back in between your chair and the radiator. Your desk is close enough to be faced with your thighs, but James doesn’t get half as distracted by them as he does your twitchy face. 

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks. 

“You and Remus worry too much.” You give him the side eye. “Why do you care?” 

“I think we’re a little bit past pretending we don’t like each other, aren’t we?” 

He turns the radiator on with less struggle than he’s anticipating and holds his hand to the bottom until he feels the metal warming. “Tell me if that gets too hot for you,” he says, standing. 

“Thank you.” 

“It’s no problem.” 

“No, really,” you say, rubbing the bridge of your nose, “thanks for worrying about me. I’ll feel better in an hour.” 

“Did you eat breakfast?” He brings his hand up to wipe a stray fibre from your cheek, “Why were you late?” 

“I…” Your eyes follow his hand as he lowers it. Emboldened, James raises it again, wiping at a phantom fibre. “What is it?” 

“Little hair on your cheek.” 

“I slept late, and I felt strange in the car so I parked for a bit, and… I don’t know. I should’ve stayed home, but you know what he’s like about sick days.” 

“You feel alright now, other than the headache?” 

“Just heavy.” 

James spots Remus coming back and steps away. “You’ll be alright, okay? Don’t worry too much. Do some of the top spreadsheets and we can manage the rest.” 

“You don’t have to do that for me.” 

James does, really. Remus gives you your mug of tea and one of the plastic wrapped muffins from the kitchen, both boys keeping watch over you like a vigil. If you were well enough to notice you’d complain, but you spend the next few hours sipping at your tea as it turns cold, and nibbling at little bits of muffin, clearly tired. 

You email James the Lang and Co. invoices four hours after he’s asked for them with a sorry and a frowny face emoticon. James wants to kiss you on the forehead, feels it so strongly it becomes a different kind of wanting, to look after you and for you to want him to do that. He’s in way too deep. There’s not much he can do. 

“You want some more tea?” he asks, leaning over to grab your discarded mug.

“Yeah, please, Jamie.” 

James’ fingers wobble around the mug. 

Remus glances up from his phone. 

“Of course,” James says, smiling, “coming right up.” 

Jamie, he thinks. Friends call him Jamie. He can be your friend, he’d love to be your friend, but Jamie. Even sick, you say it sweetly. He trips over himself trying to get what you asked. 

[deantfwinchester]

Neighborhood Walgreens

Pairing: No-Outbreak!AU, Joel x Teacher!Reader like always

This one takes place before the other two timeline-wise, I guess - just a few months into knowing each other. No established relationship, and some ridiculous flirting.

Summary: A busy, sick Joel gets a little care from the people in his life - including the neighbor and friend he's been crushing on for the past few months.

Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff-fluffity-fluff. Bout to get a standing root canal appointment, tbh.

A/N: The bulleted fics are piling up in the notes app, but boy are the well-crafted girlies a bit of a trek. More to come, if the functioning part of my brain has anything to say about it.

Word Count: 5.9k. absolute unit.

——————————————————————————————

Joel wakes up feeling like shit. He’d felt a bit of a scratch in his throat the night before, but tried to write it off as allergies or something - until he woke himself up coughing before his alarm could even go off. He knows he has a cold the second he tries to breathe through his nose - no dice. His head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, and it’s pounding before he can open his eyes. He shivers when he moves the blankets aside to get up, and each muscle in his body begs him to crawl back into bed.

Ever the trooper, he rises anyway, heading to the bathroom and checking the medicine cabinet to find what he’d feared - no cold medicine. Awesome. Resigning himself to trucking through the day, he blows his nose, pops a couple tylenol, and gets ready. His respiratory system isn’t too fond of the assault, however, and he’s coughing up a lung before he can finish. Today should be fun. He’ll need to stop by the drugstore on his way home. 

Once he’s dressed for the day (trying his best to look alive), Joel trudges down the stairs to see Sarah at the kitchen table, half-eaten bowl of cereal in one hand and a pencil in the other as she finishes the last of her homework. She hears him shuffle in and looks up just as he sniffles, locking eyes right before he can still his features into a facade of rested wellness. The  look on her face tells him he’s not getting away without worrying her, and he hates that. She doesn’t say a word as he makes his way to the coffee pot, she just watches him, only speaking up when he shivers at the mug’s warmth in his hands. The weather’s typical for an early autumn morning, but nowhere near chilly. Though the temperature should drop today with rain in the forecast, Sarah knows her dad and he’s never cold. 

“You know, I could just head next door. I guarantee she’d be happy to drive me,” she says smiling into her textbook, trying to be nonchalant with her concern. She was referring to you, their neighbor of a few months now, who’d given Sarah rides, helped her with homework, or checked in on her when Joel needed. You’d been around since the day you moved in, and neither of them could complain — certainly not Joel. Maybe she was hoping to fluster him a bit as well, suspecting his feelings for you were a bit more than the friendship he insists they are. 

He chokes on his coffee and coughs a little, shaking his head as she closes her book and begins leafing through her notes. Joel’s been worried enough lately that he’s taking advantage of your kindness too much — afraid he’s inconveniencing you and you’re too nice to say no, despite your insistence to help on more than one occasion. Besides, he already feels crappy, the last thing he wants today is for you to see him like this, hardly able to keep himself together. Or worse, to get you sick as well. Absolutely not. He opens his mouth to respond, but she speaks first. “It’s not like she hasn’t before. Maybe just one day? You need…,” she trails off, losing the battle with her expression as her eyebrows knit together and she notes the pallor and exhaustion on his own.

He takes a swig of his coffee hoping it will soothe the growing soreness in his throat before responding, “That’s alright kiddo, I-,” but the words catch in his throat before he can finish, and he cuts himself off coughing harshly into his elbow. Sarah grabs a glass and fills it with water while he coughs, longer than he has all morning, and hands it to him when he catches his breath. The look on her face is challenging now — she knows she won’t win this game, but she’ll still put up a fight. Predictably, Joel continues his previous thought as though unfazed by the fit, though his voice tells another story. “It’s just a cold, I’ll be fine. You don’t need to be worryin’ about me, babygirl,” he says hoarsely, waving her off with a sniffle. “You got a science test today, worry about that. You feelin’ ready?,” he asks, subverting talk of both his illness and mentions of you.

Sarah relents with a sigh, “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she says, gesturing to the textbook and notes on the table. He’s more confident than she is, and he smiles brightly at her.

“You’ve got it down, not a doubt in my mind. Now finish getting your stuff together before we’re late. I’ll get the car runnin’,” he says, moving his coffee to a travel thermos before grabbing her lunch from the refrigerator and getting it packed up. She looks back at him hesitantly before leaving the room to gather the last of her school stuff. 

Joel’s got his coffee in hand and Sarah’s lunch in the seat next to him as he waits in the truck. It’s nice enough outside, but he’s still chilly, and wonders if he should run back in and grab a jacket. He forgoes this idea when he realizes Sarah’d put up more of a fight if he did, knowing he’s warm-blooded as all hell, and vocally hot until at least November. Not to mention Tommy’d see right through him the second he shows up to work. No, it’s just early in the morning. The day will warm as the sun climbs to its apex for sure. He’ll be alright. 

While he’s thinking too hard through the fog in his head, Sarah climbs into the car with her backpack on, pulling it off to throw into the seat next to her. But not before she’s placed two additions in the seat between them - a box of tissues and a water bottle. She doesn’t say anything to him, just gives him a knowing look before loading her lunch into her backpack. Joel stills a moment — he’s not surprised by her care, but softens at the gesture. As Sarah shuts the passenger door, Joel wonders how the hell she turned out so sweet, and kisses the top of her head in silent thanks before pushing the truck into drive.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time Joel gets to work, his headache has bloomed into pain behind his eyes, leaving him squinting hard in the bright morning sun. He’s also used quite a few tissues since he dropped Sarah off at school. He’s definitely grateful she thought to grab them, but unfortunately, his congestion won’t budge. He’s not naive enough to think he can hide from Tommy, but hopeful that his brother might at least leave him be today. He can muscle through if he’s just working and not being nagged by his brother for hours. He’s sure of it.

—--------------------

Tommy’s not an idiot, but he lets him slide for the first few hours. It’s clear he knows something’s wrong. Joel’s a quiet enough guy, but never this silent, only speaking up when the work demands. He noticed when Joel got out of the truck this morning looking particularly drained - both in face and demeanor - and had checked in as casually as possible, hoping to avoid his brother’s evident and exceptional irritability. Joel, of course, had promptly brushed him off and clammed up for the remainder of the morning. Speaking only when spoken to hadn’t stopped Joel from making noise, though, much to his brother’s dismay. Tommy had seen him all morning, breaking into intermittent fits of coughing he’d attempt to mask beneath the racket of power tools. Tommy’s just about as good at hiding his concern, and Joel catches him looking in his direction in the thick of it on more than one occasion. After which Joel would rip his eyes from his brother’s fretful gaze, hoping to deter him from moving forward to give him a once-over. 

Despite his many efforts otherwise, Tommy knows Joel’s sick - too sick to be working like he is today. It’s when the guys break for lunch around noon and Joel just quietly nurses a bottle of water (which he only has because Sarah made sure of it, no less), that Tommy decides he’s got all the evidence he needs. Tommy sidles up next to his brother who’s leaning against his truck bed, and by the looks of it, allowing it to hold most of his weight, too weary to do so himself. Tommy sighs next to him, and Joel braces for what’s coming.

“You know, we’ve pretty much got it covered over here today, not a lot left to do before we pour anyhow. Probably a good thing, bottom looks like it’s gonna fall out before long,” he says, gesturing to the darkening sky above them. “We can manage for the day if you wanna head on home, maybe take a nap? Hate to tell ya, but you look like hell.” Tommy nudges his brother’s shoulder with his own playfully, attempting to lighten the mood. Joel rolls his eyes at Tommy, sniffing and clearing his throat to talk.

“Nah. ‘S just a cold. I’ll be alright,” Joel says, hoping to end the discussion with his curt response, but failing when his throat catches on the last word. Tommy’s face is etched in worry at the sound of the cough tearing up his brother’s throat. 

While Joel attempts to catch his breath, Tommy takes in the reddened flush on Joel’s otherwise pale face, and the distant glassiness in his eyes. Taking advantage of his distracted state, Tommy places the back of his hand against Joel’s forehead. He’s barely there long enough to get a read on his temp before Joel swats his hand away, but it’s enough. No wonder he’s caught Joel shivering more than once today. 

“Dammit Joel, you know better. We’ve sent guys home for less and you know it,” says Tommy, face twisting in frustration and concern. 

“Tommy it’s fine I-“ Joel attempts to reply, but Tommy cuts him off. 

“Did you even bother to check it before ya left? You know this is a fuckin’ hazard on the job. Damn accident waitin’ to happen,” his tone is grave, but his expression is worried and achingly sincere. Joel pushes the thought from his mind and shapes up - not his little brother’s job, he can take care of himself. 

“No. I’m fine to keep workin. That’s it. We got stuff to do,” Joel says with finality, turning on his heel and promptly returning to his tasks. Tommy’s not happy about it, but he could spend all day arguing with his bullheaded brother, tiring him out more without making any headway. No, he’ll just keep a closer eye on him while they work. That’ll have to do.

—--------------------

It’s when the rain starts coming down a little after two that Tommy hits his limit. Once he notices a couple drops beginning to fall, he looks to Joel, just in time to see his brother shivering when the drops make contact with his overheated skin. That’s enough of that. Tommy stalks over to his brother, whose reaction time is significantly slowed, and Joel turns to look at him a bit dazed. 

“Alright, that’s it. Rain’s coming down, you’re shaking like a fuckin’ leaf. Go home.” It’s Tommy’s turn to remain steadfast in his convictions. Joel looks over at him with tired eyes and Tommy can’t help but soften. 

Only when a few chilled drops hit Joel’s face and neck making him colder than he’s felt all day that he concedes. “Yeah, alright.” It’s clear he doesn’t have the energy to put up a fight, especially when Tommy pats his shoulder comfortingly and he slumps a bit. Joel’s shivering again as Tommy ushers him back toward his truck. 

“We’re heading out soon as we get cleaned up anyway. How ‘bout I pick up Sarah? Just go home and get some sleep?” Tommy asks, hopeful now that his brother’s folding. 

“Okay,” he breathes out, running a hand down his face before trying in vain to rub out the pain behind his eyes. Joel stops just outside the driver’s side door and looks to Tommy to thank him. 

“‘Course. Now head home. I’ll see you in a little bit,” Tommy responds, to which Joel nods, then climbs into the truck. Tommy takes another look back to find his brother sitting in the driver’s seat gathering himself, mildly satisfied with this result 

_____________________________________________________________

For once you actually make your way to the parking lot right after school on a Friday. You're notorious for staying too late, grading, planning, or straight up yapping, but today you’d made a rookie mistake. You’d showed up to work on Day 2 of your period without checking your advil stash. Fuck. 

After a day of cramping, crabbiness, and guilty apologies after being kind of a bitch to your students a couple of times, you head to your car as soon as the bell rings. You’ll stop in the Walgreens around the corner from your neighborhood for a quick supply run, then head home to be comfortably horizontal for the remainder of this fine Friday afternoon.

—--------------------

Truth be told, Joel is relieved to be done for the day by the time Tommy makes him leave. The last of his resolve had crumbled and fallen with the first raindrops and the chill they set in his bones. He turns the heat on in his truck and settles in, letting the air warm him up and willing the pounding in his head to subside just long enough to focus on the road. A few minutes and a bout of coughing later, he finally works up the strength to drive home, only to realize he’s still horrifically unmedicated. Shit. Guess he’s stopping at the drugstore on his way home if he wants even a little relief.

—--------------------

Joel’s standing in the cold and flu aisle of his neighborhood Walgreens, sniffling miserably and squinting heavy-lidded at different cold medicine boxes in each of his hands. He remembers one particular medicine helping at least a bit more than others last time he was sick, but for the life of him he can’t remember which one it was. Dammit, he really just wants to get out of here. He’d much rather keep this cold to himself than be hacking in public, but he needs something if he’s ever gonna stop coughing long enough to get the sleep he desperately needs. 

The tiny white letters on the back of these orange and green boxes are starting to run together, and the pain behind his eyes digs its heels into his frontal lobe. He squeezes his eyes shut and curses a little louder than he realizes, triggering a coughing fit in the middle of the store. Great. Now everyone in the store knows he’s carrying a respiratory plague. He’s sniffling and feeling like a walking germ when he hears his name called.

“Joel?” you call from the end of the aisle, having heard his voice from a few lanes over. Joel turns his head to see - oh no. Jesus. Boy did he wish you weren’t the one seeing him look so gross right now. As you come closer to find him squinting under the clinical brightness of the drugstore, you get a good look at him. He looks… rough. His hair’s a bit damp, and more disheveled than usual - not the fresh, styled damp you see when he leaves the house after a shower, but a clammier mix of sweat and rain. His posture is far from the typical confidence and swagger he typically wields with each step, and is more evidently haggard. You notice his eyes first though, with dark circles and brows creased in confused exhaustion. They’re half-closed too, like he’s fighting to keep them open. 

He tries to open them wider and stand up straighter as you approach, clearing his throat to speak, but he’s coughing again before he can get a word out. He’s shaking with the force of it and you notice his shirt is damp in places as well - must have gotten caught in the rain. Just minutes ago, he’d have been uncomfortable under your scrutiny, but he’s too wrapped up in catching his breath to be embarrassed at this point. You draw nearer with pure concern in your eyes as his coughing subsides, and his resolve melts a bit more.

“Whoa, hey, you okay over there? That sounded painful,” you say, finally meeting his eyes. He notices the fretful tone in your voice — it’s gentler than his brother’s but carries the same intention. 

“Yeah, can’t say it feels great,” Joel says hoarsely before attempting to clear his throat once again, hoping his lungs will cooperate this time. “Can’t seem to remember which of these damn pills will give me a hand though.”

“Didn’t I just see you on Wednesday? When did you start feeling bad?” you ask, leaning against his side to take a closer look at one of the boxes from his hands. Maybe with some details you can help figure something out to get him feeling better, or at least let him rest.

“Last night, I guess. Came on pretty quick. Was workin’ okay this morning, but once the rain started, Tommy sent me packin’.”

“You went to work like this, Joel?! Isn’t that like, dangerous? You could really hurt yourself,” you chastise, rubbing his upper arm comfortingly while staring up at him looking utterly devastated. Christ he may melt into a puddle right here. He’s seen this look before, and though he doesn’t want you close enough to catch this, he doesn’t have the heart to shove you away like he did Tommy. He bothers to look at least a little guilty, and you sigh before continuing: “Bad idea. And you know it. Now, let’s figure this out. You’ve got the cough down for sure - what are your other symptoms?”

Before Joel can respond, he looks down into the small basket hanging over your arm and notices its contents: a box of pads, tampons, a bag of peanut M&Ms, a resealable bag of bite-sized chocolates, sour gummy worms, two different pain medications, and a box of peppermint tea. Pain relief, pads, and candy salad. Caught. This is not a conversation you want to have with Joel — men get weird about periods for some childish reason, and you’re really not in the mood. You glance down and move the basket behind you a bit, ready to brush him off and keep the conversation on him, but when you meet his eyes they’re wider and his brows are furrowed above you, drinking you in.

“You sure you’re feeling alright?,” he asks, gesturing to the contents of your little black basket. His tone mirrors the worry you’ve been bleeding since you turned onto the aisle. You’re taken aback by the question at all, given the obvious nature of today’s dilemma — one most men you know wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. His voice doesn’t waver, and his expression doesn’t falter, or express an ounce of discomfort. It’s interesting, but you’d rather not dwell on it, and laugh him off anyway.

“Oh, yeah. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before of course,” you smile and wave your hand in the air to brush off his concern, but his eyebrows inch closer to one another, and his head tilts slightly to the side. You’re the one growing warm under his perusal now, so you turn the subject back to him. “Anyway, talk to me. What’s the matter?”

Joel stares a moment longer, but begins to rattle off a list of fairly standard cold symptoms. You’re glad it isn’t anything too serious, he’ll probably just feel crappy for a couple of days while his immune system does the heavy lifting. Now to figure out what can be done to make him more comfortable in the meantime. One thing you know for certain after hearing the growing congestion in his voice and the rasp in his throat — he’s gonna need the stronger stuff. You take the boxes from his hands and return them to the shelf. He looks at you perplexed, struggling to sniffle against the congestion that — according to the pained squinting he’s still doing beneath the fluorescent lights — is giving him a hell of a sinus headache, and keeping him from breathing through his nose. Fine as he may be in a few days, at the moment he looks devastatingly uncomfortable. 

“Yeah, this crap on the shelf isn’t gonna work. Let’s get ya some of the stronger stuff,” you say, patting his shoulder before tugging him along to the pharmacy. He doesn’t ask any questions, just quietly follows your lead. Along the way, you explain the useless nature of the phenylephrine in the easy stuff, and how the good stuff requires you to show your ID. You tell him why the drugs with the pseudoephedrine are more helpful, and he nods and snuffles in understanding. Sounds good to him, he’ll let you take the lead on that one. As smart as he knows you are, he more than trusts your judgment.

You approach the counter and begin perusing the options, talking with the pharmacist about what you need, when Joel starts coughing again. You can’t help but rub his back and whisper soft words in comfort when his face twists in pain from the fit wreaking havoc in his chest. As your hand moves in soothing circles across his back, you can feel the heat of his skin through his t-shirt. Shit, he didn’t say anything about a fever. You need to get him home as soon as possible. 

When he’s composed a bit, you wrap up with the pharmacist, and she asks for your ID. You pull yours from your bag and hand it to her, but pause. Should you show her your own? Does she need to see Joel’s too?

“Oh, for sure. Uhm, do you need to see his too, since he’s the patient?” you ask, wanting to get done with this as quickly and smoothly as possible so you can get him out of here. She’s looking at the card in her hand intently and entering your information into the computer, busy with the transaction.

“No ma’am. We don’t need your husband’s ID since you’re the one purchasing,” she responds, not lifting her eyes from the computer. You blush at this, but she doesn’t seem to notice until Joel’s eyes go wide and he chokes, forcing him into another bout of harsh coughing. Jesus, his throat must be torn up. You reach for him with one hand and place your own basket and a few other sick day supplies on the counter with the other before she finalizes the transaction. 

“Thanks for all your help!,” you say a bit frantically as you begin to usher him toward the exit. You walk out of the store in silence, neither one of you looking at the other, each of you trying to keep a nervous smirk at bay. Only when the automatic doors shut behind you do you turn to look at each other and laugh heartily, extremely entertained by the pharmacist’s assumption. The laughter only ceases when it sends Joel coughing again — you need a read on that fever he’s sporting. Once he’s mostly caught his breath, you move closer and place a gentle hand on his forehead, then move it down toward his cheek. Joel closes his eyes and without realizing, leans forward into your soft touch. When your hand leaves his face, his eyes open to find that look again, and he muses that you may make him sweat before the fever gets the chance. 

“You didn’t mention this earlier. Did you know you’re running a fever, Joel?” you ask him, and he looks guilty toward the asphalt. 

“Tommy mighta mentioned somethin’ about it earlier, but I’ll be alright,” he responds, but fails to suppress a shiver when the breeze kicks up. Your heart breaks a little seeing him shaking — how did you miss that earlier? You sigh deeply before telling him you’re hesitant to let him drive home. He insists it’ll be fine, and you understand it’d be more of a hassle to come get his truck later on. You concede since it’s such a short trip back, but you’ll follow him back to your adjacent homes. 

—--------------------

After parking your car in the driveway next to his own, you meet Joel at his truck. You bat his hand away when he attempts to grab the bags from yours, and tell him to go unlock the door. Ever the gentleman, he’s a little perturbed, but follows your instructions anyway. Once you’re both inside the house, you set the items on the table and sit him down next to it before heading for the cabinet and filling a glass with water. After passing him the glass and watching as he slowly sips, you unload the bags, and begin reading the back of the box from the pharmacy. 

“Have you eaten anything today? It’s probably not a great idea to take this on an empty stomach,” you say. He goes a little green at the thought of eating anything before swallowing and huffing a response.

“No, haven’t really felt like it. Don’t think it’d sit well right now, to be honest. I’ll be alright with just the medicine, I bet.” You sigh in response, a little anxious it’ll make him feel worse, but either option could do that at this point. At least the thought of the medicine isn’t nauseating for him at the moment. You’ll let it slide, for now. 

“Fine. But you’ll definitely need to eat something substantial later,” you tell him, giving him a once-over, taking advantage of the single instance he’s below you to get a good look at him. You’re already thinking through take-out options that might help tonight. Another day, you’d make some soup for him — get him full and warm him up. Hell, tomorrow you might. But today you’re exhausted, with the period fatigue and the cramps that won’t let up, you’re definitely ready to get into some more comfy Friday Afternoon Clothes. 

“Alright, you get changed and get comfy on the couch. I’m just gonna run home and get outta these work clothes, then I’ll be right back.” 

“You’ve done plenty already today, darlin’, really. Helped me out more than you know. And I’d hate for you to catch this too,” he explains, looking guiltier than you’d like. You’re plenty aware of the risk here but at the moment you couldn’t care less. You don’t really feel like sitting by yourself in your house right now anyway. No reason both of you should feel crappy alone. 

“Uh, Joel, did you forget that we’re ‘married’ now? I’ll be back in just a minute to check on you,” you insist, smiling at him. He looks at you admonishingly and smiles back, shaking his head. You have no idea how happy that makes him — his stomach flutters at the joke, and it isn’t from his illness. You hesitate on the way out the door, and turn to check with him once again. “If having me hovering is gonna keep you up though, I can totally leave you be. I don’t want to keep you from getting the rest you need.” Your voice and expression are apprehensive, afraid to be a bother. 

He probably doesn’t still his face well enough, and he’s certain you can see desperation in his eyes when he shakes his head. He can’t tell you quite yet, but he’s over the moon you want to stick around. All semblance of nobility is dropped - having you near him could never be unwelcome. “You don’t hover, sweetheart. Nothing about you is bothersome. I’d love the company, actually,” he tells you in earnest.

Your expression settles at the reassurance, and you smile back at him. “Good. I’ll just be a few minutes,” you begin, but your smile turns to a grimace with the last few words as you feel a sharp twisting in your stomach and lower back. Your hand instinctively grips your stomach, hoping to ease the pain. There’s definitely no escaping that one. Joel’s eyes widen, but you cut him off before he can ask if you’re okay. “Yep, I'm gonna get out of these pants and into something loose before my uterus tries to kill me,” you joke, reaching for the knob. 

Joel chuckles in response but he’s frowning a bit. The look from the drugstore is back, and you don’t know what to do with his sympathy. You can’t look long before heading out. 

He hates seeing the pain you’re in, but what upsets him most is the way you brush it off. Like your pain is smaller, or insignificant by comparison — one he wouldn’t draw anyway. It sticks with him more than it probably should, but he can’t seem to shake it. He needs to act, somehow. Once he’s changed, he grabs a few blankets from the closet and the heating pad they keep around for his back and for Sarah’s own cycles. He knows how much it can help her, so he figures it couldn’t hurt to offer, at least. 

He sets up a spot on the couch for you both — a little nest for staring at the tv and, (he hopes), cozying up just a bit for extra comfort. He’s still not hungry, but he microwaves a bag of popcorn and grabs some other assorted salty snacks to join the candy you’d picked up. He’s seen how snacky you can get after school sometimes, and wants to make sure you have an array of options, prepped for any craving. 

You return as he’s placing the last of these items down on the coffee table — he’s rather proud of his little presentation — and sees your hair up and a comfy set of sweats that are just a little too long in the arms and legs. Lord help him, you look fucking adorable. He can’t stop the grin that spreads across his face when you walk toward him. 

“Well don’t you look cozy,” he says with eyes shining at your improved expression. You give him an exaggerated little twirl to show off the baggy outfit you’ve adorned yourself in for this evening’s activities. 

“Damn right! I’m ready for anything now,” you say, stuffing your hands in the pocket of your hoodie. He’s laughing in response before it catches in his throat again and he starts coughing. 

“That makes one of us,” he jokes once he’s caught his breath. 

“Yep, I want you on the couch. Right now. Go ahead and get comfy and I’ll get the medicine. We gotta get you drugged up enough if you’re gonna get any sleep.” You’re ushering him to the couch when you stop in your tracks. When you catch sight of the coffee table snacks and the heating pad set up on one side of the couch, already plugged in and waiting, you nearly tear up. You’re speechless for a moment — no one’s ever done anything like this for you before. This little thoughtful gesture means the world, and you’re not sure what to say. 

“Joel! You didn’t need to do all this. You’re sick, I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” you insist, nudging his arm with your own, leaning lightly into his side. 

“Wasn’t hardly anything, darlin’, just some stuff I know helps Sarah when she gets to feelin’ like you do. She likes her snacks salty, and always feels better with this little fire hazard next to ‘er,” he says, gesturing to the heating pad on the couch. His grin turns mischievous before he starts again: “Besides, you said it yourself, we’re ‘married’ now, huh? I oughta know what my wife needs just as well,” he finishes, voice too satisfied, and eyebrows raised in jest. 

You’re giggling when you grab his hand and squeeze it, thanking him. “This goofy little bit we’re doin’ ends the second Sarah and your brother walk through the door, by the way. Not looking to scare her, that’s the last thing I wanna do,” you instruct.

“‘Course, but fuckin’ with Tommy sure woulda been fun,” he says to you, and you laugh in agreement. Once you see he’s settled, you make tea for the both of you, hoping it’ll work magic with the medicine to get him resting comfortably and — with any luck — napping before long. He’ll probably protest, but with a little coaxing, you’ll get it into him. 

When you return with the tea, he takes it from you with both hands, before using one to pull you down on the couch next to him. He’s pulled you a little closer than you may have sat yourself, and he’s pleased when you don’t pull away or readjust. You just grab the heating pad, crank it up, and stick it behind your lower back while leaning forward to grab the medicine. You check his temperature again with the back of your hand while he’s preoccupied taking the medicine you’d doled out to him. He’s a little warmer than he was outside the drug store. 

“Maybe we should get a number on that. Where do you keep your thermometer?” you ask, worry written on your face all over again. You attempt to rise from the couch to go hunting, but he grips your hand again, keeping you in place.

“Nope, nope, it’s fine sweetheart, I promise. You need to get some rest too. Sit,” he directs, his tone leaving no room for discussion. You roll your eyes, but wriggle back against the couch again before pulling a blanket into your lap. Joel fiddles with the cord of the heating pad and readjusts it behind your back, making sure it isn’t folded or sitting uncomfortably against you. You sigh in relief and fall a bit toward him as you settle in, and he inches you way as well. You arbitrarily turn on a movie you’ve both seen, fully aware neither of you will be making it to the end, and snuggle closer. The fevered heat humming beneath his skin is pleasantly warm against you as he settles deeper, and he’s slipping in and out of conversation within minutes. 

_____________________________________________________________

Sarah walks through the door with Tommy in tow while end credits roll across the tv. They head into the den to check on Joel, but conversation falls silent and they stop in their tracks at the sight they discover. You’re sleeping peacefully, legs tucked up under you and head lolled against the back of the couch. Joel’s head has somehow found its way into your lap, and he’s resting warmly on your stomach, no doubt alleviating some of the pain with his warmth and weight. Your hand rests on his shoulder, holding him securely.

Tommy’s face goes slack, but Sarah’s smiling ear to ear, and turns to her uncle, trying to quiet her laughter. He looks at her wide-eyed, but says nothing, and she holds her hand out between them, fingers curling toward her palm.

“Pay up,” she says, way too satisfied for Tommy’s liking, and far too much like her father. He rolls his eyes, and digs his wallet out of his pocket. He really thought his brother would be too chicken to do anything about this — at least for a little while longer.

[dixons-sunshine]

In SICKNESS and in health | Daryl Dixon x Fem!reader

*GIF isn't mine*

Summary: Even before you and Daryl got married, he vowed that he would take care of you, no matter what—in sickness and in health. Now, when Daryl returns from a run, burning up, sniffling and coughing, it's your turn to return the favour and take care of him.

Warnings: Mentions of vomiting and swearing, but other than that, fluff!

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour war, pre the building of the bridge.

Word count: 2.8k

A/n: Not me casually dropping a fic after more than a year of nothing lol. Sorry about that :`). I'm also sorry about the crappy writing you're about to read. I'm extremely rusty from not writing in forever. Also, this is my first time writing for Daryl, so I hope I captured his character as accurately as possible.

—

You hummed quietly to yourself in the kitchen of the small two-story house you and Daryl occupied in Alexandria. After a harsh, intense period of fighting with not only the dead but the Saviours as well, it was nice to have peace in the aftermath. It was a grueling process to rebuild the remains of Alexandria from scratch, but with the help from everyone in the community, as well as from people in other communities as well, Alexandria stood tall once again. With all the houses rebuilt and with additional houses built as well, you and Daryl had opted to claim one of the smaller properties as your own, a sanctuary away from the bustling crowd of Alexandria after an exhausting day.

Chopping up vegetables to add to the soup you were making, you could distinctly hear the unmistakable rumble of your husband's motorcycle, making a small, relieved smile grace your face. A couple of people in Alexandria, including Rick and Daryl, had gone of on a run three days prior and you had been worried sick. It was snowing rather heavily, and when a blizzard passed through the day before, your worry had skyrocketed through the roof. You weren't alone in your worry—Michonne had been worried to death, too—but all you could do was hope for the best. Thankfully, it seemed as if though everyone was okay.

The rumbling of Daryl's motorcycle became louder the closer he got to your shared home. When he parked in the driveway, the rumble abruptly stopped. Turning your attention back to the task at hand while anxiously waiting for Daryl to walk through the front door, you chopped up the last of the vegetables and added it to the soup you were preparing—chicken noodle soup—and made sure to season it accordingly. It was one of your favourite dishes and you were craving it, especially with the cold weather that bestowed itself upon the world.

The front door opened with a faint creak, notifying you of Daryl's arrival. After wiping your hands on a rag, you moved out of the kitchen and towards the living room where the front door was located. There, you found Daryl slowly shedding his coat. His eyebrows were furrowed together and his eyes were shut. When he heard your footsteps, he opened his eyes and looked up at you, giving you a small, tired smile.

"Hey. Yer still up?" He greeted quietly. He draped his coat over the back of one of the couches and moved towards you, embracing you in a loving hug. He rested his head in the crook of your neck, and you swore you could hear faint sniffling.

You returned the hug instantly, resting your head against his chest and listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Yeah, I couldn't sleep. I was worried about you."

"'M sorry. We woulda gotten back a lot sooner, but the damn blizzard had us trapped. We had to camp out in one'a the houses on the road back."

"It's okay," you reassured, your arms around him slightly tightening. "I'm just glad your okay."

Daryl hummed and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence, neither one of you breaking the hug. The only sound that could be heard was from the fire crackling in the fireplace behind you. However, after a few seconds, you could hear a few faint sniffles coming from the archer. Frowning, you withdrew slightly, looking up at Daryl in concern.

"Dar... Are you okay?" You asked, your tone perfectly voicing the concern you felt for your significant other.

"Yeah, 'm fine. 'M jus' tired," he said, trying to assure you. However, you weren't buying it, and he knew it. Before you could voice your protest, Daryl quickly pulled away from the hug and stepped back. He brought his face to his elbow and erupted into a coughing fit, his chest heaving.

"You don't seem fine," you countered his previous statement after his coughing stopped, taking a tentative step forward. Your eyebrows were pulled together in concern.

"Nah, 'm fine. Jus' got somethin' in my throat, is all," he said, trying his best to keep his face neutral. His attempts proved to be futile, however, when he sneezed into his elbow and the sneeze was shortly followed by another rampage of brutal coughs.

You walked up to your husband and took his hand in yours, prompting him to look at you. Raising one of your hands to his forehead, you weren't completely surprised when you felt a scorching hotness beneath your palm. Daryl felt like a furnace, and you were a little surprised that you hadn't realised it sooner. He had just come into the house after being out in the icy cold weather for three days, but instead of feeling cold, Daryl had felt warm—warmer than usual.

"Baby," you whispered, raising your hands to gently cup his cheeks. Your frown deepened, your concern for your husband not fading. "You aren't fine. You're burning up."

Daryl sighed. He closed his eyes and leaned into your soft touch, enjoying the coolness of your hands. "'M fine. Ya dun' need to worry 'bout me. I'll live," he mumbled stubbornly.

"Daryl," you started, your tone stern but gentle. "You're not fine. I can see that much. Why don't you go upstairs and take a shower? I'll be right up."

Daryl opened his eyes and gave you a crooked smile. "I have a feelin' tha' ya ain't about to take 'no' for an answer."

You smiled at him and gave him a quick peck on his cheek. "Your feeling would be correct. Go on. I'll join you in a few minutes."

"Yes, ma'am," Daryl responded, withdrawing from your touch and turning to descend up the stairs.

You turned around and headed to the kitchen. From upstairs, you could faintly hear the shower running, and you felt relieved that Daryl was heeding your advice and showering. After rummaging through the cabinets, you finally found a bottle of Tylenol. Setting it down on the counter, you turned towards the cabinets again and took a glass from one of the shelves. After filling it up with water, you walked over to the stove and stirred the soup, tasting it after a couple of minutes to ensure it was ready. After retrieving a bowl and a spoon, you filled the bowl up with the soup and placed the bowl on a tray, as well as the water and the bottle of Tylenol.

You carefully and slowly descended up the stairs to ensure that not a drop of soup was wasted. Successfully reaching the top with no complications, you turned towards your and Daryl's shared room and pushed the door open. After putting the tray down on Daryl's bedside table, you could hear the shower shut off and the distinct shuffling of Daryl getting dressed.

You sat on the bed and waited patiently for your husband to join you in your shared quarters. After a few minutes Daryl finally came into the room, clad in a loose fitting shirt and flannel pants. Now that he was cleaned up, you could practically see how sick he really was. He looked pale and his eyebrows were scrunched together, signalling that he was, without a doubt, suffering from an intense migraine.

You got up from your seated position on the bed and walked over to him. He offered you a small, weak smile and you returned the gesture. Taking his hands in yours, you slowly started tugging Daryl along with you to the bed. You gently pushed him to sit on the bed, and he complied, but not without protest.

"Yer doin' too much fer me. Ya dun' have to, y'know? I'll be alrigh'," Daryl protested, laying his head back against the wooden headboard.

"I know I don't have to, but I want to. You're always taking care of others, me most of all, so let me take care of you."

Daryl grumbled something under his breath and sighed, but nevertheless, nodded slightly. He covered himself with the blankets and carefully watched you through half lidded. His eyes widened slightly in delight when you lifted the bowl of soup from the tray and delicately placed it in his lap. You sat on the edge of the bed next to him and gave him an expectant look.

"Eat up. I didn't make this for love and charity, you know," you joked, bringing a hand up to brush Daryl's wet hair back from his eyes, giving you a better view of the ocean coloured eyes you loved to get lost in.

"Wha' 'bout ya? Ain't ya gonna eat, too?"

You chuckled quietly and looked lovingly at your husband. "Always taking care of me, huh?"

"Ain't ever gonna stop," Daryl agreed, looking at you with an intense gaze that portrayed more than words ever could.

"I'll eat later," you promised, gently caressing the side of Daryl's face before retracting your hand again. "I wanna take care of you first. Make sure you're comfortable, fed and resting, then I'll eat something."

Daryl only stared at you for a few lingering moments before reluctantly bringing a spoonful of the soup to his mouth. He hummed in approval after the first bite. "This shit's good."

You laughed lightly and shook your head. Standing up, you headed to the bathroom and grabbed a cloth. After wetting the fabric and wringing it of excess water, you walked back into the room and saw Daryl silently and dutifully devouring the soup. When you drew nearer, you were surprised to note that the bowl was nearly empty.

Daryl looked up at you and noted your surprised look. He gave you a sheepish smile and looked down, his face flushing. "I didn't realise how hungry I was. Sorry."

After his statement, another force of coughs wracked through Daryl's body. When he calmed down, you sat back down on the bed next to him. You leaned forward and gently placed the cloth over his forehead, eliciting a small sigh of relief from the archer. "What are you apologising for? For enjoying my food?  Believe me, I'm glad you're enjoying it and can actually stomach it. Usually when I get sick, anything that goes down comes back up in a matter of minutes."

"Tha's disgustin'," Daryl drawled, scrunching his nose in a way that you found absolutely adorable.

"I never said it was pleasant," you laughed, taking the empty bowl from him and placing it back down on the tray. You substituted the bowl for the glass of water and handed it to him, as well as two pills that you took from the bottle.

"And this?" Daryl prompted, hesitantly accepting the pills from you.

"It's Tylenol. It'll help with that fever of yours," you explained. You watched as Daryl popped the pills in his mouth and swallowed it down with huge gulps of water. When the glass was empty, you took it from him and placed it down on the tray. "I'll talk to Siddiq tomorrow and see if he has anything for that cough of yours. Your voice has been sounding scratchy and I don't want you to lose it completely."

Daryl furrowed his eyebrows. However, before he could voice his protest, you quickly cut him off. "No, none of that. I'm talking to Siddiq, and that's final. I'm also seeing if Aaron would be up for taking your place on runs until your better, and I better not be hearing any protest from you whatsoever on the matter, Dixon. I'm only letting you out of this house when I know for a fact that you're not sick anymore."

Daryl only shook his head. He attempted to keep his face neutral, but the faint smile on his face betrayed his true emotions. He sighed before moving his body to lay down, keeping the damp cloth over his forehead. He shut his eyes and covered it with his arm.

"Alrigh', if tha's Doctor Dixon's orders," Daryl whispered, his tone playful.

You laughed. "It is."

You moved to stand up and grab the tray, but Daryl's hand suddenly grabbing yours halted you in your tracks. You turned to look at him and saw his eyes now trained on you. He seemed hesitant to ask you something, and it put you on edge.

"You okay?" You asked, running your thumb over his knuckles.

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm alrigh', 's jus'..." He inhaled deeply and averted his eyes, seemingly ashamed of himself for the question he was about to ask. "Would ya maybe stay with me? I mean, 's late anyway and ya need to sleep, too."

The tray on the bedside table was instantly forgotten. You smiled gently and brought your husband's hand up to your lips, pressing a feathery light kiss on his knuckles. "Of course I'll stay with you. You didn't even need to ask."

You walked over to your side of the bed and layed down. Daryl covered you with the blankets and then proceeded to peel the cloth from his forehead, carelessly tossing it to the side, somewhere on the ground. The two of you silently layed side by side for a couple of moments until you lightly patted your chest.

"Come here, I'll hold you."

Daryl scoffed slightly, his cheeks flushing, but complied, turning his body to lay his head down on your chest. You slotted your legs between his and slightly adjusted your body until you were comfortable. The archer wound his arms around your midsection and you brought your arms around his shoulders, holding him tightly to your chest.

"Comfortable?" You whispered, running one of your hands through his hair, softly scratching his scalp as you went.

"Mhm," Daryl hummed, pressing his face deeper into your chest. He quietly sighed in content, the steady rhythm of your heartbeat and the soft scratching of his scalp slowly lulling him into slumber.

For the next few minutes, the both of you layed there in a content silence. You continuously dragged your fingers through his hair in a gentle manner, and your other hand was lightly tracing the lengths of his arm. The silence was only broken by Daryl when he slightly lifted his head to look at you, his eyes heavy with sleep, but filled with an undeniable love for you.

"I love ya," he whispered quietly, making your heart flutter and a loving smile grace your face.

It was quite uncommon for Daryl to utter those three words first. Not because he didn't love you, but because he wasn't good with expressing his emotions the way people normally would. Because of that, he showed his love to you through actions, and you were perfectly okay with being the one to say 'I love you' to him first most of the time, but when he did express those three words to you verbally without you saying it first, it always made your heart swell with adoration and love.

You pressed a gentle, soft kiss to his forehead. "I love you more."

That made Daryl scoff and bury his head into your chest again. "Nah, tha' ain't true at all."

Choosing not to argue with your husband, you simply chuckled and resumed your previous activity of treading your fingers through his hair. Not long after, you saw Daryl's breathing slow down and steady into a slow rhythm, notifying you of his slumbering state. You smiled at him and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. You settled back onto the bed and rested your chin on top of Daryl's head, making yourself more comfortable. The soft sounds of Daryl's breathing beckoned you into slumber as well, and you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to succumb to the comforting confines of sleep.

Goodnight, love, you thought, finally falling asleep, Daryl tight in your embrace with no intention from you of letting him go.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[faeriichaii]

hiii. if it’s not a problem, could I request a Legolas x human reader where the reader catches the flu but Legolas thinks she is about to die or something like that because of how fragile human life is? everything very flufff 🙏 have a good dayy💗💗

Immunity ~ Legolas x fem!human!reader

A/N: Heyyy!! Of course it's no problem :) I love the plot I can picture it so well omg!! I hope you have a nice day as well and enjoy the story <33

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Warnings: Fluff ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Words: 1.1k ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Request: Yes (Thank you <33) ࿐ྂ ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Meleth Nin ~ My Love ࿐ྂ

Summary: Being sick is not fun, especially when you see Legolas' panicked gaze at your condition, which seems to get worse as the days pass by.

As you woke up on the cold hard floor in the morning, you could already tell that you were getting a little sick. The weather on your journey seemed to be not playing in your favour, cold wind was constantly blowing, which was sometimes accompanied by rain or snow. You knew it was bound to happen at some point. Letting out a little cough you wrap up your small sleeping bag, next to Legolas’ and get on your way with the rest of the company. Walking beside the elven prince, you gave him a soft smile. “Good morning Meleth Nin. Did you sleep well?” His hand grasped yours gently, as he looked down at you, reciprocating your smile with one of his own.

“Yeah, I did, it just was a bit cold during the night.” One of his eyebrows raised up as he listened to your slightly deeper voice. “Are you alright?” You just gave him a nod, squeezing his hand to reassure him. “I’m alright love, don’t worry your pretty little head.” A chuckle left his lips, as he leaned towards you and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek. Giggling softly, you leaned your head on his shoulder. “Next time you are cold you can join me in my sleeping bag.” Legolas whispered sultry into your ear, while giving you a wink. A gasp escaped your lips, followed by a cough as you gently shoved him away by his shoulder.

He laughed at your reaction, throwing his arm around your waist to pull you closer once more. “I don’t know what you had in mind, but I just thought about a little bit of cuddling, that’s all.” Your eyes stared back into his. How can anybody look so breathtaking? He tried to lean in to give you a kiss on the lips and you really really wanted that as well, however knowing that you’re sick, you turned your face back to the path, resulting him giving you another peck on the cheek. Scrunching his eyebrows at you, the elven prince gave you a confused look, before you let out another cough.

“Meleth Nin, are you sure you are alright? Did I do something?” “No, of course not but I just remembered that Gimli gave us a stink eye yesterday. He wouldn’t even stop staring and at some point, started grumbling.” You partly lied, trying to hide the cough that was stuck in your throat. Gimli did in fact complain about your ‘constant smooching around’, however you knew that this wasn’t the real reason why you couldn’t kiss him. You just didn’t want him to catch a cold. A few coughs escaped your lips as you grabbed your water bottle to calm your aching throat down a bit. The cold liquid trickled down your throat, helping just a tiny bit. A hot beverage would definitely be the better choice, but that also calls for luxury that you currently can’t come by.

After the long walk of the day, you all set up camp. The fire was brightly lit, as you sat between Aragorn and Legolas. You held your half-eaten bread towards your lover. “Are you already full? You only ate half of the bread. You need to eat more.” You just smiled at him softly and brushed it off with a ‘Don’t worry, I ate a lot during the day.’, knowing you just can’t stomach more because of the flu that really started to catch up now. His gaze glimmered with worry. “Now if you will excuse me, I will go to bed early. I’m so tired because of the long walk today.” You gave Legolas a quick peck before you stood up from your place on the log and made yourself comfortable on your sleeping bag. The elven princes gaze never leaving your figure, even after you fell asleep.

“Aragorn, do you think (Y/N) is alright?” The man beside him turned his gaze from the fire towards your sleeping figure. “What do you mean? She seems normal to me.” Legolas’ gaze drops towards the fire. “Maybe you worry a little too much.” Aragorn says, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, before excusing himself to prepare his weapons for the upcoming day.

The next day you wake up you can already feel the goosebumps on your skin. You felt incredibly cold and hot at the same time. A groan left your lips as you tried to stand up. The world seemed to be spinning around itself as you fell back down with a huff. Legolas eyes widen as he stopped packing his things and approached your side quickly. Worry gleamed in his eyes, as he held you in his arms. He put a hand on your cheek, feeling your very hot face. “(Y/N) what is going on! Where are you hurt?” His gaze roamed your body for any kind of wound that could have been infected that led you to an almost dying stage. “Legolas I’m fine I just-“ A few coughs interrupted you as you grasped his forearm for stability to properly sit up once again. “Aragorn, (Y/N) is dying!” He shouted from the ground where the both of you sat.

Aragorn quickly approached the two of you as he inspected you for any kind of injury as well. “No, I’m not dying I just got sick, that’s all.” Another cough escaped your lips as you grabbed your water bottle beside you. A dumbfounded look spread across Legolas’ face, as he watched you drink. Chuckling a bit, Aragorn stood back up from the ground. “All she needs are some herbs from the woods and drink some tea. Do you think you can travel for a bit (Y/N)?” He asked you, concern slightly visible on his face. “Yes, I just shouldn’t have gotten up that quickly.” You smiled at him before standing up with Legolas, who still didn’t let go of you.

Turning in his arms you wrap your own around his neck. “See I’m alright Meleth Nin. I just need some tea.” He suddenly hugged you tightly. His hand stroked over your hair as he breathed in your smell, his face in your neck. A gentle kiss was placed on the exposed skin. After a little while he slowly let go of you. “I thought you were dying.” He confessed. His eyes burned with an intense fire, as he leaned down and pulled your face towards his, resulting in a kiss on the lips. Gasping softly, you tilted your head to the side. His thumbs stroking your cheeks lovingly, while you let your fingers flow through his hair. Heat spread to your cheeks as the both of you separated to catch some air. “Legolas don’t kiss me! You will catch a-“ He silences you with another kiss. “Meleth Nin don’t ever reject my kisses again while you’re sick.” “But-“ Another peck was placed on your lips. “I thought you knew I was immune to all kind of diseases.”

[milksnake-tea]

hello! congrats on your 1k followers, u deserve it! may i request for dan feng + fluff prompt 9 … maybe smt similar to ur dan feng fic? vidyadhara!reader?

this ask might be late and u don’t need to do the suggestions but i’d like to say that your writing always makes my day, keep it up! 💗 and again, congrats!

thank u!!

❀ ˎˊ- prompts: It's raining outside, and when you see them completely drenched, you immediately offer them shelter. ❀ ˎˊ- 1k followers event ❀ ˎˊ- character: dan feng ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: none !! ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: AIYEEE THIS WAS SO CUTE GOT ME KICKING MY FEET AND ALL <33 also thanks for the congrats !! sorry this was so late lol, i hope the fic makes up for it! also context, dan feng and reader are friends here, but reader is a different reader from under the lotus leaves <3

Rarely does the Luofu see rain.

As an artificial planet, a man-made home that basked in the light of an artificial sun, the weather was very closely monitored and controlled. For a sudden storm to arrive either meant that someone higher up was having an off day, or the A.I. had decided that perhaps the Luofu was a tad bit dehydrated.

Still, it doesn't make it any less irritating to you, a civilian who wasn't informed of this sudden decision.

You clicked your tongue in annoyance. Of course it had to rain on your day off. You'd planned to have a nice, easy day outside of just strolling through Aurum Alley, but that plan was now out the window.

Oh, well. Nothing you could about it now.

Gripping your grocery bag closer to you, you held your free hand towards the sky. Water swirled around you in a mystical dance, the rain droplets stilling as if frozen in time. Soon enough, an invisible umbrella formed above your head, your hand keeping there in place.

It was times like these that you were grateful for your cloudhymm abilities. You stepped out into the drizzle, perfectly dry amongst the crowd.

As you neared your home, you faltered when you saw an unexpected figure taking shelter under one of the many overhangs.

"Feng'er?"

The man in question flinched upon hearing your voice. Immediately, he turned away, embarrassed to be found in such a disheveled state.

"I... I'm fine," he stuttered. "Just... caught off guard."

You sighed, taking in the sight in front of you. Dan Feng's robes, so pristine and regal, were plastered against his body, soaked beyond what you'd thought was possible. His hair plastered against his skin as he wrung out what he could.

"Feng'er, with all due respect," you stepped closer, "you look anything but fine."

Dan Feng glared at you from the corner of his eye, but you weren't intimidated. You worked in customer service, after all.

You held out a hand. "Come here, my house is nearby. You'll get sick if you stay drenched like that."

Fire swirled in his eyes as he looked at you, wavering between pride and safety. Amongst the pouring rain, that turquoise hue glowed like flames, an ironic contrast to his abilities.

Eventually, his desire to get out of the rain triumphed over his pride. He reluctantly took your hand. You pulled him under your makeshift umbrella, your hand held high above the both of you as you led him to your home.

The walk there was quiet, save for the soft patter of rain and the curses of those caught within it. Left with nothing but your thoughts, your eyes began to wander. Soon, they landed on the hair of the High Elder, still wet and glossy despite Dan Feng's efforts to dry it.

"Hey, Feng'er," you spoke out into the silence, "can I ask something?"

Dan Feng contemplated it for a moment. "You may."

"You also wield cloudhymm. Why not use it to dry yourself off instead of, well..." You didn't need to go on.

The tips of Dan Feng's ears lit up in red. He quickly averted his gaze, but your eyes were quick enough to catch the pink dusting his cheeks.

"I..." He coughed into his fist. "Yingxing, he claimed that I couldn't go a day in my life without using magic."

"Ah." You couldn't help a snicker sneaking out, but you were quick to disguise it as a cough. "Is that right?"

"Yes," Dan Feng sighed in exasperation, crossing his arms. You smiled. His ears seemed to burn brighter now.

"To think you'd take the words of a short-lived so seriously," you mused. "Your stubbornness will be the death of you."

"Better to die than to let that arrogant mortal insult me so carelessly."

"Right, right, of course," you nodded. "We can't let the dignity of the High Elder be tarnished."

You felt a hard blow to your back, not hard enough to hurt you but certainly enough to make you stumble. Looking behind you, you saw Dan Feng's tail dart out of sight.

"Feng'er."

Dan Feng closed his eyes, evidently choosing to block you out. You rolled your eyes.

"Try that again and I'm leaving you next time."

Your friend chuckled.

"No, you love me too much to abandon me."

You kicked him into a puddle.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[pinkslaystation]

OMG I JUST HAD A THOIGHT. What if like on this fic that you wrote “tulips or roses”, what if Rose and reader met?!?!

PLSPLSPLSPLS MAKE IT ANGSTY TO FLUFF TOO 🙏🙏🙏🙏

AMAZING THOUGHT POOKIE I WAS THINKING THE SAME >_< also i'm on holiday rn visiting family so ofc the wifi decides to the shittiest rn so apologies for slow uploads and errors :( and tags aren't working??? Word Count: 2k

Tulips meets Roses.

It was a Friday evening at the pub, where you sat beside John Price, your arms interlinked with his clenched bicep listening to another one of Johnny's story.

"'n' th' mornin' efter we shagged, she juist vanished! Efter a' th' love we made?"

Ghost grunts in mock sympathy, and Gaz stifles a scoff next to him, "She probably got scared of your haunted puppet collection mate-"

"Oh ye leave Bonnybelle oot o' this-"

These outings weren't as frequent as one would hope, considering how busy the Task Force usually was, but when there was a break with the missions, most of the soldiers found themselves at the hustle and bustle of the local pub, and it made it better when you could bring a plus one.

It's been a few months since the 'argument' about Rose, and even though John likes to name it a 'dispute', he's drilled it into your head how it was his fault completely not yours.

"Yeah well, me and my girl visited Bali for our anniversary-" Kyle boasts to the group.

"Yeah 'n' Simon gaed tae Croydon wi' his grandma, sae whit." [to all my non-londoners, Croydon is THE GHETTO. always in support of croydon slander]

John snickers, and you smile as the feelings of his arms encapsulating you. "You'll find someone one day, Johnny, I know it." You smile sloppily, partially tipsy from all the alcohol consumed and partially from all the sweet talk.

"Aye ah better, a'm wantin' th' Tulip tae mah Price."

Ah, turns out John's been calling you Tulip to everyone.

"She's limited edition, find your own fuckin' flower." John comically dismisses, taking a hefty sip of his beer, bringing you impossibly closer to him.

Your smile at the compliment is cut short when a blonde bob catches your peripheral, and just as you're about to turn your head to catch the face you're looking at-

"Is your garden in bloom?" Simon casually questions.

The table immediately erupts in coughs and laughter, with Gaz side-eyeing Simon's question, and Johnny laughing at the clever Bridgerton reference. John corrects his posture at the comment and covers his cough with his fist, a light tinge of pink painting his pale bearded cheeks. He'll make sure Simon runs double the amount of laps during practice.

"And that's my cue..." You press a warm kiss against John's temples, before heading off to the women's bathroom, not blind to the 'awwws' and coos from Soap, and the "What does it mean? I only watched the sex scenes..." from Simon.

Walking to the women's bathroom, you yawn and stretch your tense back after sitting on the wooden chair at the bar for so long.

"Tired?"

You snort, "An understatement, I'm sleepy as fuck- Oh."

Locking eyes with the voice in the mirror, grounds you back to reality. The once fictitious woman you were most worried about stands next to you in the bathroom, returning your glance through a mirror.

You break the silence, feeling awkward at the tense scene, although you're unsure if she's feeling the same. Does she know who you are? Does she think of you as her replacement?

"Weather's nice." A terrible comment considering it mid November in England; the weather's far from nice, yet Rose chuckles. For a moment, you can see why John longed for this woman, from the way her skin creased around her mouth as she flashed you a grin through the reflection.

"It's nicer in Greece, moved a few years back." She smiles amicably.

You hum, nodding as if in agreement, even though you hadn't even set foot in a Mediterranean country, "When did you come back? To the UK?"

She looks up, recollecting the days, "Hmm, must been a week now, Greece is lovely, but the UK's home, you know?"

Once again you just nod, watching as she pulls out a red Dior lipstick and reapplies to her supple lips. Watching her intensely focus on her lips makes you question John once again, a wave of insecurity rushing through you like that previous time.

She's so much better than me... You think to yourself.

"How's he been then?"

There's a pause in your breath, your eyebrows raising slightly. Rose makes eye contact with you again through the mirror, and you're grateful that she doesn't turn to look at you physically, you're scared that you might pass out in nervousness.

"I- uh, who?" You manage to blurt out, mentally cursing yourself for what you think sounded like a helium-produced high pitched squeak.

Rose chuckles at your response, "John Price. I see the way he looks at you, you been dating him for long?"

You purse your lips into a thin smile, even after years of dating and marriage, any compliment given to the both of you would send your heart to a warm frenzy.

"Been together for 4 years, married for 1..." Your smile in inevitably giddy as you admire the glittering rock plastered on your ring finger. Rose looks at your ring, her smile faltering a little, but you don't notice it in time.

"And you?"

"Me?" She straightens her posture, and even her mannerisms reflect that of your husbands a bit, "A few years of marriage...it's...nice." But it sounds like she's trying to convince herself more so than answering your question.

Your response is again, a shy nod.

Silence evades the conversation as she closes her lipstick delicately, placing it back into her expensive purse. You want to press the conversation further, beg her for more answers about the history that she might have had with John, you wanted to hear it from her perspective.

"I loved him you know."

Oh.

The world stops for a moment, and you feel the slow emergence of bile erupting from within. You're silent for moment, your thoughts halting. What kinda woman just announces that she had feeling for another's man...no, not just feelings...love.

Her reflection in the mirror breaks into small minuscule frames, as your eyes tear up. Not even a breath escapes from your mouth.

A droplet of sweat cascades down your back and you tremble at the thought of John kissing Rose.

"I...of course, realised too late. When we were celebrating my retirement, me and the team, I, uh...I was about to tell him...and I saw his phone screen...didn't know about you then, but it was a picture of you," She giggles at the memory, "Thought you must have been important 'cos that man's had that brick phone for years, and this is the first time I'd seen a different lockscreen."

You don't respond, unsure of whether to scream at her, calling her a homewrecker, or just to let her complete her speech. You realise she had used the past tense, loved. Did she still feel the same?

"And then I followed him back to his office...he was on the phone...to you. And oh my God. I swear I looked through the crack of his door, that guy was literally melting. Caught him twirling the invisible phone line and everything."

You can't suppress the tiny smirk on your face.

"And it was just a mundane conversation, nothing special...and it looked like he would kill the task force, just to have a spec of your attention on him. I've...never seen him this way, not even with me..." She whispers the last part, looking down at the droplets of water on the porcelain sink.

"I'm sorry if I'm intruding, I guess I just came here to get closure-"

"Did you get it?"

The first you've said in minutes, and the tone was so gruff, one would think you were berating her.

She nods, still smiling, and for a second you wonder how strong this woman would have been, flying all the way back, just to see someone she'd harboured feelings with another.

"And even if I hadn't, I wouldn't do anything to either of you...forgive me, I'm not like that."

You nod, intaking some air after what felt like hours. You force yourself to turn your body towards her, a question still stuck in your head, urging to be answered.

"Rose." You whisper. She looks at you with a sweet smile, and for a second you feel bad for even thinking such inhumane thoughts about her.

"Do you still love him?" It was short and curt, no hesitation in your question, which did sound somewhat more like a command.

She looks at her reflection in the mirror, as if assessing her flaws and imperfections. There's another uncomfortable pause in the atmosphere, and it feels like the two of you have sucked a breath in anticipation.

The truth is...she doesn't know. What even is love? Is it measurable? Is it subjective, objective, definite, is it yes or no? Are there layers to love? Can you love two people at the same time? Has she ever felt love?

Does she still love John?

Did she ever love John?

Did John ever love...her?

She thinks back to when she walked into the bar, her eyes searching for the bearded captain, only to see them locked on...you.

Oh the way he looked at you. It reminded her of a loyal dog watching upon his master, like a peasant being granted a sip of golden delicious nectar for the first time. Like the way the moon orbits the Earth indefinitely, following Mother Earth on her orbital path.

Like the way a wounded man would rest in his knees painfully, praying for his Goddess to notice at least one his pleas, as he weeps for her.

It was a look she never gave to him, and one he never gave to her. That look, he had only reserved for ... you.

"No, I suppose not, not the way he loves you." It comes out in a pained whisper, and Rose can't tell if she wanted to go back in time to have John all to herself or if she believes that she would ever experience that kind of connection with him.

You hum, it felt like your voice box was strained every time you responded, but you felt at peace, finally.

How long have been in the bathroom for?

Run along now, John's probably looking for you.

You hug Rose, and you can tell she's not used to physical touch, the way her tall frame freezes at the contact. She smiles to you, silently apologising for her burdensome self.

You leave the bathroom, with a smile bigger than you had ever worn.

Soap's points towards you, at the table, and the others smile, John immediately whisking his head so quickly, you fear he might have pulled a muscle.

"Hey baby," you whisper into his hair, sitting down next to him, with his arm around you, where you belong.

"Jesus, sweetheart, 'was about to go to the bathroom m'self to look for you..." He mumbles, pressing his soft lips against your temple, purposely brushing his beard against your cheek.

You hum, as he presses fluttering kisses against your neck, whispering all kinds of affectionate names, oblivious to the fact that Ghost was already submitting a letter of compliant for excess PDA.

Rose shortly leaves, exiting the pub, her eyes falling on John's blushed cheeks burying into your hair, as she opens the door.

He turns to her, feeling someone looking at her, but instead of freaking out, he just smiles, acknowledging her presence, and quickly shoving his cheek against yours.

Tulips truly were his favourite flowers.

"SHE GAED TAE TH' BATHROOM 'N' DINNAE WASH HER HAUNDS"

tag yourself, i'm gaz's wife 😹 tags -> @lilliumrorum, @kxtz3, @poohkie90, @rainlovesyou12, @restrictionsapply-blog, @lunamoonbby , @nigthmar3moon , @thychuvaluswife , @itsnourm , @bubusi11, @chessecakelover , @owkittie, @cheomain , @corvusmorte , @k4es , @mandythemint , @copiasratscheese , @yyiikes , @funkyysho3es, @delta98-idk , @spankmydepression , @yourfavbabigirl

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Sick day

Self-Aware! Fyodor Dostoevsky x GN! Reader

Description: It's summer and, somehow, you became sick. Fyodor is here to look after you.

Fluff. Little Sick fic.

Semi-Sequel to Shopping trip and Surprise.

Warning: OOC. English is my second language.

You groaned and woke up. You felt terrible and had a headache, your nose was stuffy, and your throat were sore. Moreover, you were shivering, like crazy.

For the whole evening, you feel under the weather. Even when Doppo and Kolya offered you to have another movie marathon, similar to the one you three had after that terrible shopping trip.

If you felt better, you would join them. But, instead, you decide to go to bed early at 8:00 pm.

It takes you a minute to grab your phone from the bedside table. The familiar picture of you and Armed Detective Agency near the campfire, that you use as your lock screen picture, greet you. You look at the time.

10:00 pm.

Still early. You sneeze. Your headache became worse.

Well, isn't it just dandy? You were sick. Somehow, you manage to catch a cold in the middle of summer.

You start coughing.

You wonder, if, in reality, you had an ability that makes you get into troubles or almost impossible situations. You also wonder if it's the case, could you convince Fukuzawa to let you became his subordinate and use his ability on you, so he can turn off your supposed ability off. It will be easier, than dragging Dazai everywhere you go.

Another cough. You grumbled and struggled to get out of bed. Your mouth was dry, you needed to drink water. And, it would be perfect, if you had a wet rug for your forehead.

After getting on your feet, you slowly moved towards one of the shelves. You start searching through it, hoping to find a rug or a towel. You only find a big towel (too big to put on your forehead) and scarf, that Kolya made for you (too precious).

You shook your head. Maybe, In the bathroom, you will find something suitable.

But, first thing, water.

Staggering, you slowly walked towards the kitchen.

You were tried, you felt terrible. You close your eyes, hoping, that it will ease the headache.

That's how you bumped into someone. Someone warm.

You blink few times. It was dark, but you manage to see familiar purple eyes.

You bumped into Fyodor Dostoevsky.

You two were staring at each other. Fyodor carefully put his hand on your forehead. Fyodor frowned.

"You have a fever."

It wasn't a question, but you nodded. Fyodor sighs and carefully put his arm around your shoulders.

"Come. Stay in my room tonight, [Y/N]. A d don't try to protest, Myshonok¹. I will take care of you."

You whine.

"Water... Wet rug..."

Fyodor pat your head.

"I will get them for you, but, please, you need to go to bed."

You had no strength to fight or protest. You let Fyodor lead you to his room.

Soon you were laying on Fyodor's bed and Fyodor tucked you in. Fyodor cast a quick gaze at you and left his room.

You sigh. It wasn't your first time sleeping in Fyodor's bed. At the end of May, you slept here for a week.

_______

It happened few days after Kolya made dumplings for everyone and scarf for you. Because of that, all BSD cast start searching for something interesting about their real world counterparts. They were trying to find some cute facts, so they can make something nice to you.

You discussed everything you knew about their real world counterparts with BSD Cast. And one day you made a mistake. You discussed the wrong fact about Fyodor Dostoevsky.

"This world Fyodor Dostoevsky has a gambling problem. One time, he lost everything, even his wife's clothes. I hope, our Fyodor won't follow this path."

To give you credit, you didn't say at Fyodor's face. But you didn't discuss it, when Fyodor wasn't in the house.

He heard you nice and clear.

The next evening, he challenged you to a game of poker. The loser had to grant the winner's wish.

Fyodor still didn't tell you, why he wished for you to sleep in the same bed with him (and cuddle with him) for a week.

________

You doze off. But, after you feel a wet rug been placed on your forehead, you opened your eyes again.

Fyodor was back. Holding your head with one hand, Fyodor brought the mug to your lips.

"Slowly, [Y/N]. Small sips"

You followed Fyodor's advice. It wasn't pure water. It was a special tea, that helps against cold. Tea was warm and tasty. Soon, you drank tea to the last drop.

Fyodor nodded contentedly. Putting the mug away, he took a small bottle of cough syrup from the inside pocket of his coat.

Fyodor poured syrup into plastic spoon.

"Now, open your mouth, Myshonok"

The syrup was too sweet, but, you knew, that you can not to take it. Fyodor won't let you.

Tea and syrup made you sleepy. Wet rug on your forehead felt nice. You yawn. You slowly doze off. You mumbled.

"Thanks, Fedya... Good night"

Through your sleep, you felt Fyodor kiss your forehead and whispered.

"Good night, Myshonok. Sleep well."

After making sure, that you are sleeping, Fyodor sat in his computer chair. He wasn't against sleeping in his chair, so you will be comfortable.

Fyodor chuckled. He hoped that when you became better, you will agree to cuddle with him again.

_______

¹Myshonok - "baby mouse" in Russian

[gr1mstar]

tea, tissues, and two hearts…

synopsis: after not listening to your boyfriend telling you about the cold weather a few days ago, now you are stuck with a cold right before an event. gojo takes care of you, now being his turn to make yourself his baby.

notes: i had a bad day so i thought writing something sweet would cheer me up. i hope you liked it, i personally do not like this oneshots that mush, i was tired when i wrote this but… well, it is what it is :) requests are opened btw, you can ask me for anything (besides smut)

contains: gojo satoru x f!reader, sick reader, cuddles, sfw, sweet bf satoru, nicknames, swearing (not much)

also i have a masterlist, so check it out here

it was tonight? 8 pm… fuck.

as you lay in bed, wrapped in layers of blankets, the chill of the night seeping through the window pane only intensifies the warmth you seek. The room was dimly lit, casting a soft glow on the tissues scattered around, evidence of the cold that had claimed your night. 

the warmth of a cozy blanket cocoon provides some relief, but your body aches, and every shiver is a reminder of the festivities you're going to be missing. The night is silent, just your coughs and sniffles can be heard, punctuated by the occasional sigh as you longingly glance at the clock, realizing that the party you were supposed to attend is in two hours.

‘i can’t not go…’ you thought, looking at nothing.

your head was spinning, you barely ate, and how you had to stay up all night entertaining some old ass man just to make your boyfriend’s family happy.

the gojo clan. at first, you thought that satoru’s parents were nice, but you were proven wrong when you heard them talking about you behind your back, saying that you are not good enough for their ‘perfect’ son.

‘perfect my ass, he can’t even boil an egg without ruining the kitchen’ and so, you left the bed with a long sigh of extenuation and heeded in the direction of your and your boyfriend's shared closet, passing a mirror. as you stand before the mirror, the reflection staring back at you appears both weary and determined. the cold has taken its toll, but tonight, you're determined to transform this sick-looking person into a beautiful lady for celebration. with a gentle touch, you begin to prepare yourself, tying your messy hair into a ponytail.

foundation, blush, contour, hightlist… ‘where was that lipstick again?’ 

god, you hated it. all you needed was a warm tea and some sleep…

after an hour and a half, you were ready. taking your phone in your hand, you could see that you had some unread messages from gojo.

“baby, don’t forget about the party. don’t wait for me, i will come already ready just to pick you up” - 1:23 pm

“it’s a formal event” - 1:23 pm

“are you ok? this morning you looked off” - 5:55 pm

“i’ll be there in a few” - 7:45 pm

you didn’t dare to tell gojo you were sick. even though you knew he would be very sweet about it, you didn’t want to hear the words ‘i told you’ over and over again.

a few minutes passed by and when a door sound was heard, you knew your boyfriend was home. all you could hope was that he didn’t notice your sick face.

“babe? where are you?”

“livingroom” you shouted, taking your purse and putting it on your shoulder.

“how do i look?” you asked when gojo arrived in front of you, trying to look dignified and alert. “is this outfit okay? you said it was a formal event.”

“wow. you look really beautiful, love… except for, y’know, the red, puffy nose and the bags under your eyes and the sweat in your hair,” gojo said with a rueful smile, already slipping back out of their jacket. “we’re staying home tonight, aren’t we?”

“what? no, no, i’m fine! i can go, it’s not that bad-”

“sorry, let me rephrase- we’re staying home tonight. get back in your pj’s. we’ll have our own party with some blankets and chicken noodle soup.” your boyfriend interrupted you, taking your hands into his, and smiling at you.

“but gojo, your parents?”

“fuck them. there are going to be a lot of other parties at other times. now, do what i said, and let me order the soup. it looks like you need it.”

“really?” you asked unsure, looking at your nail polished nails.

“really.”

and so you gave gojo a little kiss on the cheek, ready to head out to your bathroom to wipe out the makeup. 

“i told you you're going to catch a cold”

“oh, shut the fuck up, satoru”

“he did not.” you laughed, looking at the tv in front of you.

the two of you were looking at an old horror movie, but you were finding it a little too funny for a horror one. you and gojo were on the couch, cuddling each other. you complained about how he could catch the cold too, but for him, he was too cool for a cold.

“me? a cold? you insult me, my beautiful girlfriend” was his response, throwing popcorn at you. 

as you sink into the plush cushions of the sofa, a soft glow emanates from the muted screen, casting a warm ambiance in the room. your partner, wrapped in a cozy blanket, nestles beside you, their presence a comforting embrace in the dim light. the room is adorned with the scent of chamomile tea and the flicker of a vanilla-scented candle, creating an atmosphere of tranquility. satoru, sensing the shivers that occasionally wrack your body, wraps you in an extra layer of warmth, the blanket becoming a cocoon of shared comfort.

‘what did i do to deserve this man?’ you found yourself asking.

a bowl of hot soup, prepared with love, sits on the coffee table, its steam rising in delicate tendrils. your boyfriend, attuned to every cough and sniffle, extends a spoonful towards you with a gentle smile, their eyes reflecting a mixture of empathy and affection.

“come on, baby. eat as much as you want, today i will take care of you.”

the room may be dimly lit, but the connection between you two radiates a soft, intimate glow that transcends the limitations of the surroundings. wrapped in the warmth of blankets and love, you find solace in the simple act of being together, in the quiet dance of a shared movie night that speaks volumes without the need for words.

“i love you, satoru gojo.”

“i love your sick ass too, now eat all the soup and then we are going to bed, okay?”

“okay.”

© 2024 gr1mstar — all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, repost, translate, or claim my content as yours.

the took the image from pinterest - also i do not own jujutsu kaisen and this is simply my imagination.

[sguidwards-bestfriend]

New Dimension, Who's This?

honestly writing this cuz I saw @gin2212 's comment and made me teary, so were gunna finish this bad boy! not today but you know... it will happen

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, part 5, part 6

Explicit mentions of death (but of characters that are currently living) Kind of OG version of their deaths

Danny had only walked through the Wayne’s home adjacent gardens once, in a direct route to the barn. Batcow was a highlight of that little excersion.

Now, however, they were actually looking at the shrubbery shaped like boring spheres and rectangles.

He felt Jason become distant and floated back a bit, he’d turned left into a very small opening.

Inside were three unmovable cement benches that curved slightly into one circle. The well cut bushes were wilder in here, making it cramped and impossible to see over the hedge.

“This spot used to be my favorite, when the weather was nice. I’d come out here with a book and whatever drink Alfred had decided to make that day.” Jason looked down at a square of cement in the middle, probably where a table had been. The indents on the side of the seats, likely from the mold it was made from, had moss growing in it.

“This seems like the perfect hideout.” Danny smiled and sat on the bench opposite Jason.

Jason hummed in agreement, he coughed awkwardly even for Danny’s standards and spoke up again. “So, you’re the god of death?” Jason was probably really good at looking casual and intimidating to most people, but Danny could sense the tension emanating from his core as he sat near a branch mere inches from his face with his hands in his pockets, probably wishing he could lean against something to look nonchalant.

“Nope, I’m the king of the dead. They aren’t the same thing.”

“So, you’re not Hades?”

“I hope not, I’ve met him and he’s kind of a dick.”

Jason laughed softly, he liked how it sounded “Okay, cool, so the Greek gods exist.”

“All of the gods do, technically.” He waited for Jason to look at him. “I know it’s hard to wrap your head around, but the infinite realms isn’t really a dimension on its own. It’s the space between all dimensions. When you die you have to pass through it to get to your destination. Some people don’t have a place and they end up part of my realm, some get lost, some sell their soul, others forget their lives entirely and are part of my people from the second they pass over. Then there are the never-borns: souls that form from pure will of the infinite realms. All that is part of my domain.” Danny floated up a bit to try and catch a glimpse of the stars, the smog from Gotham blocking everything. He looked back at Jason and his stomach did a little flip that he decidedly did nothing about. “But just so were clear; hell, the underworld, and all those other things are in the infinite zone. They aren’t all the same thing.”

“Okay. So, you rule over those too?”

“Again no, once a soul gets into the correct dimension, I don’t really have anything to do with it.”

“Wait so if someone who believes in an afterlife sells their soul what happens?”

Danny slouched in the air and grunts, “That’s where all the fucking paperwork comes in. I really want you to imagine the most bureaucratic way to possibly move to a new country, but you have none of your documents. Being stuck in this dimension was a fun break at first, but now all I can think of are the stacks of A-13 forms that are probably covering the castle floors.”

Jason shifted and with it came a wave of uncertainty. “If someone was killed and brought back, what then?”

Danny has seen how ghosts in the zone get when they talk about their deaths. For many it’s all they remember of their life. If a ghost with years to think it through reacts explosively he’s not sure how it will go with a newbie. “Well, a few things. The soul could come back to a place without a body in which case you have a true haunting. If the death was quick, it could have flash formed a core, that’s like a soul that has died fully, and then shoved back into the living body. That’s how you get halfas like me.”

Jason still looked cool and collected on the outside but there was unbelievable turmoil seeping out of him. “What if the body was dead for a while? What if a soul or core was shoved back into a body on purpose?”

“I’ve only seen one revival before, but there was a lot of time warping there. The necromancers I’ve met who were trying to bring someone back didn’t have access to ectoplasm which had results that are very different to… having it.” Danny breathed out to calm himself, letting that calm wave wash over Jason as well. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s alright.” Jason shuffled his leather jacket, “You call it ectoplasm.”

“Yeah.” Danny answered with a lilt in his voice.

“The green goop filled pools you said you emptied, you mentioned they were corrupted.”

“I did yeah.”

“What would happen if someone was exposed to that?”

“Honestly, it’s not the first time I’ve come across it but never that much. For ghosts it can leave them sick and weak for days. Not like polluted water, more like if you switched out the water a healthy person drank for soda exclusively. It won’t kill them, but it will have a negative effect.” Danny thought for a second and remembered the one-time Sam got covered in a mix of good and contaminated ecto during a fight with Undergrowth. “I saw how a diluted version of it affected a living person, her mind was warped and she had the same sort of tunnel vision a ghost has if they have a particularly strong obsession.”

Jason took a breath, he’d been going strong so far. Danny may come to regret this, but he put a hand on his shoulder and floated where they’d be face to face, letting his bottom half fade away into the ghostly tail. “I won’t do it if you don’t want me to, but I can subdue your emotions a bit if you want to talk about it.” Jason looked up quickly and Danny scrambled to correct himself. “I haven’t been doing that! Well, like not in a controlling way, more like the ghost version of calming down a friend who’s freaking out. If you pushed past it I wouldn’t hold you back.”

“You should.” Danny couldn’t help the questioning noise that came out of him, “The first year I came back, I don’t remember it well, but I tried to kill Tim… and possibly Damian. If I do go too far hold me back.”

Danny nodded, “Back in the hall, when Tim was taking an unorthodox amount of coffee cups out of his room,” Jason snorted a bit and smiled, “you didn’t fight me stopping your emotions from bubbling over. I think, with even a little help, you do in fact make the right decisions.”

Jason’s hand came up to hold on to Danny’s forearm, “I went out to stop the top villain at the time, the Joker. I really did think I could beat him so I turned off my coms. He… He beat me to an inch of my life and left me to die in the explosion he’d rigged up.” Jason’s body was hot to the touch and he was obviously timing his breaths. “I can still feel the damn crowbar he used whenever I fall asleep. Batman had never been late before; he’d never let something like that go past him. My plan B was him, and he didn’t make it.”

Danny hummed. A benefit of their shared ghostliness in needing not to use his words, he pushed through waves of camaraderie and understanding.

“I had dug myself out of my own grave. I don’t remember much other than pain for months. Then Talia, Damian’s genetic mother, threw me into a Lazarus pit. The first thing I remember seeing was looking up at her terrified face, tinted in green.”

There was anger as he spoke her name, Danny controlled the waves of corrupted ecto that were threating to turn those emotions against Jason’s true wishes.

“I was fifteen, how does someone let a child do that. I was a kid!” Jason’s emotions were switching around and Danny could hear the forming core start too fuss. “I was just a kid.”

Danny came closer and wrapped all four of his arms around Jason, squeezing him just enough to feel a weight on him, but not so much it was restrictive.

Jason still seemed tense so, Danny did the only thing he could think of, he talked of his own death.

“My parents built the first ever physical portal to the realms. I was messing around with friends and they dared me to walk into the useless frame. My parents always had a tendency of forgetting lab safety and making just one mistake in every build. I’m not sure how they managed to put the on button inside it, but I tripped, hitting it on my way down. I could feel every bolt of electricity ripping me apart as the link between worlds opened directly on top of me. I died separate to my body and ended up like this.” Danny moved back and looked down at himself without letting go of Jason. “I tried to tell my parents at first, but they were always busy.

They spent the day I finally gave up trying to trap my sister; thinking she was the ghost their devices we’re picking up.”

Jason rested his forehead on Danny’s, sighing against the cold touch. “How old we-“

“Fourteen.”

“We were kids.”

“Yeah,” Danny kept his forehead against Jason’s. Two arms he left at Jason’s shoulders, the other two caressing his arms.

With a wave of confidence and fear Jason grabbed Danny by the waist and pulled him in for a real hug.

They held each other there, hidden amongst the foliage, until it started to drizzle.

“We should-“

Danny cut him off, pulling back to show the tears running down his face. “Can we go to your room?”

“Yeah, come on.”

They didn’t touch on the walk through the garden, or at the entrance, or in the hall. No, it wasn’t until the door was closed behind them that Danny came forward and just barely touched his arm.

Jason grabs him and pulls him in again, this time resting his chin on the top of Danny’s head. The attempt to calm Danny down just as he had for Jason made him start to cry again, this time much happier.

The surge pushed his kingly nature to shift into something more human. His arms went back to only two, his skin became that of a pale human’s (for the most part), his ears shrank down and his pointy teeth rounded out. And, surprisingly, his form gave him pajamas.

The ecto the change required didn’t accept the contaminated ecto that Jason had sent and Danny sagged into Jason, his knees buckling.

“Hey, hey.” Jason hushed, “I’ve got you.”

He sat Danny on the bed and went to get pajamas for himself. Once changed he laid down beside Danny and curled around him.

Danny was laying on his back, his legs bent over Jason’s thighs, who was laying on his side up against Danny. Creating a cocoon to hold Danny in.

They fell asleep quickly, Danny held Jason's hand on his chest throughout the rest of the night.

Neither of them had nightmares.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

@bjurnberg, @skulld3mort-1fan, @akikkobara @undead-bi-dinosaur, @amyheart19, @phoenixdemonqueen, @not-your-average-url, @seraphinedemort, @theywontletmeusetheoneiwant,  @satisfactionbroughtmeback, @kyrianclawraith, @i-always-say-yea, @gin2212

[luveline]

jade roan being jealous of eddie cause reader is taking care of eddie on a sick day, i know youre working on halloween reqs but i just cant get this off my mind 😭😭 hope you do this after the celebration 💗

thank you for your request! roan being jealous / sad because you're being really sweet on her dad and leaving her out :( ♡ dad!eddie x fem!reader | 1.8k words

"Hello, Mr. Munson," you say quietly, unsurprised to find Eddie exactly where you'd left him. 

"Roan?" he asks hoarsely. 

You want to ask something sarcastic, like No, why? Have I shrunk? But he's really pitifully ill, so you answer his implied question without any wit. "She had to pee. I thought she was gonna wet herself in the car, she couldn't stop wiggling." 

"Told her she has to stop holding it, she'll," — Eddie coughs, a crunchy, awful sound — "hurt herself." 

"I know," you murmur, raking a limp curl away from his weathered face. You know pretty much everything there is to know about Roan at this point, and near enough the same about him.

You kiss his cheek and linger there. You love taking care of him because he's yours, but you miss your healthy, present Eddie too. Poor guy's been sick for almost a week now, and while Roan has helped out endlessly by being on her best behaviour, you need him to keep the ship afloat. Thankfully, he seems to be in the recovery process, and his fever's been gone for days. 

"You feeling any better?" 

"I feel awesome," he says, dropping a heavy arm around your back. 

You take his face into both hands. You'd worried he'd make you sick too at first but whatever it is he has he's yet to pass on. You figure if it was catching you would've felt it by now, and you can't say you care too much when you steal a kiss. He tries his very best to reciprocate, his exhale hot as it fans over your top lip. 

He peels his dry eyes open as you pull away, and you remind yourself to get him a hot towel or a tea tincture, something to ease the soreness. 

"You're on the up and up, handsome," you say. 

Eddie's never been sick like this while you've been together. Colds and the flu when you have a kid as young as Roan are a given; you've both fallen victim to her runny noses and sore throats a thousand times. They're easy enough to work through, especially when Eddie makes his lemon and honey tea. But this sickness, a virus, has had Eddie up against the wall. He's really worried you. 

He can see it on your face. 

"I'm actually feeling way better," he says, sounding extremely like himself despite the undertone of scratchiness to his voice. "Got a damn good nurse looking after me."

Roan's footsteps echo up the stairs. You don't turn to look at her as she enters the bedroom, hand stroking sweet, shaky lines down his stubbly cheeks. 

"Hey, Roanie," he says, shifting so he can see her from behind you. "D'you have a good day at school? Come and tell us." 

"Daddy!" she cheers, climbing up onto the bed and walking across it. Eddie pulls her skirt out of her tights where she's accidentally tucked it in, almost losing an arm as she collapses into his side. 

"Roan," you chide gently, "be nice, baby, your dad's still fragile." 

Eddie wraps his arm around, sending you a very grateful look as he says, "It's okay, I didn't like that arm very much anyway. Now c'mon, I wanna hear all about it. Did Stacy K remember her show and tell?" 

Roan starts to recount the day's events, little legs tucked under her knees and the top of her body draped over Eddie's chest. You keep a selfish hand on the very edge of his face, thumb petting his cheek. After a short few minutes his eyes start to droop. He tightens his arm around Roan and rubs her back, her soft cardigan bunching up under his hand. 

"Baby, I'm still feeling icky, okay? Maybe you can tell me the rest later?" he mumbles, hand slowing.

"You can tell me double," you offer distractedly, frowning at Eddie's unhappy face. He doesn't look peaceful anymore, he looks tired. Ragged. 

"Okay," Roan says, kissing Eddie's cheek three times in a row. You can't tell if she's upset by his lack of attention. She doesn't look upset, but she can be surprisingly deceptive. 

She slides off of the bed. Her steps stop at the door. "Mom?" she asks. 

You beam at Eddie's dozing face and give his slack cheek another quick kiss. 

"What?" you ask Roan, turning away from her dad with a smile. Everytime she calls you 'mom' it makes your day, and today is no exception.

"Can we have spaghetti shapes?" 

You squeeze Eddie's arm before you stand and meet her in the doorway, looking down at her mini features with a fond smile. "Yeah, we can have spaghetti shapes. They had princess one's in Bradley's," you say, suddenly excited as you remember. 

"Really?" 

"Mm. But there's spongebob if you want those ones instead." 

Roan takes your hand and starts to pull you toward the steps. "Princess ones, duh! Please." 

You watch Eddie's face until you can't, following Roan down the stairs and into the kitchen. 

You love how it's started to look as much like her and Eddie's kitchen than just your own. Her drawings and certificates litter the fridge, a family portrait pride of place and secured with upwards of five magnets so it doesn't fall off. There's sugary cereal across the top of the bread cabinet and a safety catch on the drawer with all the batteries. Cartoon characters are everywhere — on plates, spoons, Roan's placemat, and the spaghetti shapes themselves. You crack open a can and place a pan over the burner. 

"What do you want with them, princess? A dinner roll?" 

She wraps herself around your legs. "Two dinner rolls."

"Yeah? You must be hungry from all the running around this morning." 

When you'd dropped her off, her and her friend Jordan had decided they needed to run a race around the playground. You'd cheered from the sidelines.

"Can you pick me up?" she whines. 

You drop the wooden spoon you'd been stirring her spaghetti with into the pan and look down at her pleading pout. "Aw, yeah, I'm sorry." 

You pick her up and find her head quickly buried in your neck. She's almost as warm as the stovetop. You work your hand against her head and feel her temperature, concerned for a moment.

"I thought maybe you were sick like daddy, then, but you feel okay," you say softly, stroking curls back from her face. She's started hiding behind her hair like her dad more often. "Come out, I wanna see your lovely face." 

Roan lifts her chin. 

"That's what your dad said to me when we met. I'd never heard that word before I met you," you tell her. 

"What word?" 

"'Lovely,'" you say. 

She smiles with you for a couple of seconds but then it falters, and she looks at your necklace instead. A gift from her and her dad for mother's day. You'd cried for hours. 

"What's the matter?" you ask, eyebrows pinching together. 

"Nothing." 

You readjust your grip on her hips and lean back against the counter to stop from dropping her. She's getting heavier every single day. 

"Are you sure? You can tell me." 

Roan shrugs. It's adorable, though her next words are heartbreaking. "I don't know," she admits. 

"Are you feeling sick?" 

She shakes her head but won't look at you. You hold onto her tight and wait for her to continue, if she's even going to, the clock on the wall ticking in the quiet, the smell of spaghetti sauce sticky in your nose. 

"Are you sad about something? Did you… have an accident?" 

She shakes her head again. "No, I didn't. It's 'coz… I feel bad." 

"But not sick?"

"Not sick." 

"Oh no," you murmur, biting the inside of your bottom lip as her small face crumples. "Please tell me, Ro. I don't mind what it is, I promise." 

"I feel bad," she says again. "I miss dad." 

You feel your eyebrows jump. It makes sense for her to miss him, he's hardly awake when she's been home and they haven't had much time together all week. It's a sudden change. You feel very guilty very quickly for not realising it. 

"I'm sorry," you tell her genuinely. 

"I miss you, too. We don't have our hug after school now." 

Your guilt amplifies by a thousand. You haven't been spending that time with her after school, too busy checking on your bed bound partner. 

"Aw, Roan, I'm sorry, I've just been so worried about daddy, I didn't mean to forget." 

"You've been giving daddy hugs," she says insistently. 

You lean back further to take in her face. Her cheeks are red with blush, whether that be blood rush from embarrassment or injustice, you're unsure. She's frowning at your chin, eyes flicking up to meet yours. When she realises you're watching her she looks away and starts wiggling to be put down again. 

"Roan, it's okay," you start, arms crossing over her back. You angle your face to get her attention, holding her gaze. Pretty brown eyes edged in dark, long eyelashes like her dad's. "It's okay, bub. Don't wriggle, I wanna talk to you. Can I talk to you?" 

She pouts some more. You pout back, bringing a hand up to the back of her head. 

"I'm sorry I haven't been giving you as much attention as you dad this week," you say. You want to explain how hard it's been to handle everything by yourself, but you don't think it's the kind of thing she should ever have to worry about. "I'm really sorry, Roan, daddy's been so sick that I've been thinking about him all the time when I needed to be thinking about you too. I didn't mean to make you feel bad." Feel bad, feel jealous, feel upset by your redirected affection. "I love you so much. I didn't mean to forget our hugs, but it's okay if you're mad." 

Her spirits are lifted pretty swiftly after that. "We can hug again when daddy's not sick?" she asks. 

"We can hug right now!" you say urgently, carding your hand through her hair.

"On the couch?"

"Yeah, princess, on the couch. You can even eat your dinner on it if you promise not to tell dad." 

"You'll eat dinner with me?" she asks, suspicious. 

No tricks. "I promise." 

She smiles, a mirror image of her dad and all his mischief and her relief clear. "Okay, good, because I missed you and Teddy missed you and I didn't getta tell you about the rabbit we saw at school today. It was this big and it had pink eyes." 

-

You smile at her, a mixture of love and guilt. You're lucky to have a daughter like her, forgiving and patient, and you're lucky her dad did such an amazing job at making her that way. Rest assured, you won't forget your after school hugs again, even if Eddie's two bad coughs from the ER.

He appears an hour later to find you snuggled up on the couch, jealous and petty about it as he slots himself between you both. You and Roan hold hands over his chest. Munson cuddle piles are the best.

more eddie and roan

[alatushours]

☆ CRYSTALFLIES, feat. xiao — he didn’t ask for much, just to spend precious time with you.

contents. gender neutral reader, fluff, rewritten + reposted from wp. inspired by xiao’s 2021 birthday letter. ♡ word count. 648

notes. welcome to the day 2 of the loving xiao hours event! or if you stumbled upon this on accident, welcome too <3 this is a rewrite of the xiao oneshot i wrote + posted on my wattpad (link in about on pinned) back in 2021! omg the old version was so cringey and xiao was super ooc so i hope this is better, i hope you enjoy <3

spring had sprung in liyue, and you were enjoying the lovely weather. golden leaves fluttered along a gust of wind as you sat next to the statue of the seven at qingyun peak, looking down at the natural scenery below.

swinging your legs over the edge of the floating platform, you gazed towards the mountains beyond, lost in your own thoughts.

it had been a few days since you had seen the guardian yaksha, and somehow you found yourself missing him. you were pretty sure he only tolerated your presence whenever you were around him, but over the past few months you had found yourself taking a liking to him. he was aloof but silently caring, protective, and certainly quite handsome too.

his voice echoed in your head, the way he always said he didn't care a bit for mortals, but you had a sneaking suspicion that he enjoyed your company.

as you whispered to yourself, a sudden gust of wind blew past, and xiao appeared before you. his arms were crossed, a look of slight concern in your eyes. "you called my name?"

"oh!" you hadn't realized that you had said his name in your ramblings. "sorry, i was just thinking out loud about some things and i suppose i must have said your name on accident… sorry for disturbing you, i know you're busy."

embarrassed, you started to pick up your things, getting ready to head back to liyue harbor. "i was just about to leave anyway, haha…"

"wait, y/n," xiao called after you. "don't leave, you didn't bother me at all. in fact…" you turned back around, curious, and found the adeptus standing in front of you with his hand outstretched. a small velvet pouch lay open in his palm, full of beautiful sparkling crystalflies.

"i, uh, had nothing to do today," he started quietly as you stared at the crystals in wonder. "so, i decided to find a crystalfly for you… to put in your hair. i thought that… it would look nice."

you smiled, taking the pouch from his hands as he continued. "before long i had caught more than i expected… i hope you do not mind." he turned away, about to leave, but you grabbed his wrist.

"xiao, these are beautiful. thank you so much!" your smile was like the sun, and he looked away, blushing.

"there's no need to thank me, i was just repaying your kindness." his voice wavered, but he continued, "i do not care much for birthdays or other mortal celebrations, and i do not wish to be around large crowds of people. just spending time with you is enough."

your mind wrapped around on particular word in his sentence. "wait, birthday? don't tell me… is it your birthday today, xiao?"

the yaksha coughed into his fist and turned away, face flushed, before nodding.

you squealed. "why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"i suppose there was never really a reason too…"

you took his hands, feeling even more excited than you were before. "well, you should have! i'm really glad you came to me today, xiao. i know you probably find me tiresome, but i really enjoy your company. i want to help you with whatever you might struggle with. so don't be afraid to come to me if you need anything, 'kay?"

xiao sighed, but it wasn't one of exasperation. "i don't require your assistance, but i appreciate your concern. however… if you want to visit the inn more often, i wouldn't be against it."

you laugh, "i guess i'll hold you to that offer then!"

as the sun began to dip into the horizon, you invited xiao to sit with you, asking him to weave the crystalflies into your hair. "i don't really need to go to the harbor until tomorrow morning," you tell him, "so why don't we just spend some time together?"

end notes. i hope you can tell the improvement LMAO but anyways xiao was the first character that i received a birthday letter from (i started on april 9 2021) so he has always held a special place in my heart, if you can’t already tell <3 please look forward to april 13th, when i’ll be posting the next one!

© alatushours 2024. please do not copy, modify, or translate my work in any way, nor upload to any other platforms. in the meantime, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and comment! it helps a lot ♡

[viviennevermillion]

hello!! i'm absolutely in love with your writing and your posts!! (they're so inspiring seriously)

anyway- i was wondering if i could request Blade with a chronically ill s/o? no specific illness required! just the reader generally being under the weather a lot and exhausted, and how he reacts & takes care of them :)

thank you!! have a lovely day/night <3

With a chronically ill s/o

✧ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: thank you so much for the request! i feel this bc i've just been diagnosed with two of 'em chronic illnesses (GERD and cough variant asthma) this year and it's been wearing me down before i figured out how to properly manage it. i hope you like this request! also you said i'm converting you to sampo so i'm adding him to this post.

if any readers would like to be on my star rail taglist, feel free to notify me (+ for which characters you want to be tagged). if i find you're on my dni, i will block instead.

✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: i'll be there — gabriella bee

✧ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: blade, sampo

✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: none

Blade is a very patient and attentive boyfriend. He already thinks existence is a pain so he does whatever he can to make sure you feel better and comfortable. When you have a particularly bad day he'll definitely stay with you if you want him to.

When he first learns of your illness, he makes sure to do enough research to understand it. Kafka found him sitting at a desk with a stack of books about your condition to make sure he's prepared for anything. She'd lean against the door frame with a smile on her face, watching him for a moment before making herself known. "That's so sweet of you", she chuckles and Blade turns his head. "Mind your own business."

Kafka definitely snitches and tells you about how much effort he put into understanding you and your condition

He makes sure to talk with you about it as well. He asks you what symptoms you have, how they feel for you and what you found helps you when you feel under the weather.

Literally asks Elio to predict what your condition will be like in the coming days. If it's a day where your illness flares up particularly bad, he makes sure to get all the items that help you and medications you need in advance.

He does not tell you that he does this; you just think the Stellaron Hunters are very medically prepared.

If Elio predicts that you'll have a particularly good day, Blade makes sure to take you out on a date. Maybe a picnic in nature or a nice dinner somewhere where there isn't a chance of someone trying to arrest him.

He listens to what you say you need at the moment. If you need space and rest, he will happily oblige but if you feel better with his comfort, he'll lay down next to you and wraps an arm around you from behind, snuggling close to you.

Blade has a satisfied smile on his face when he finds you in a peaceful sleep despite your symptoms or pain. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, careful not to wake you. He feels you snuggle closer to him in your sleep and it makes his heart flutter to find a smile on your face.

If he feels like you might need to eat or might be hungry when you wake up, he pays someone to bring you a nice (and suitable) meal to your doorstep. When you wake up, he asks you how you are feeling and tells you that he hopes you had a nice rest while nuzzling your cheek. "I got you lunch", he says softly and exactly in that moment the door to your room opens and you get your meal.

He assists you with whatever tasks may fall on your plate if you're ready to accept his help. He makes sure the other Stellaron Hunters go easy on you and don't give you any tasks that you feel you might not be able to handle on days where your illness flares up.

If you sent him a text message saying you're not feeling well and need his comfort at the moment, he'd literally drop everything to be by your side.

Blade has lived for a long time and he has seen quite a few cases of chronic illness so he's fairly adapt at being there for you. He's worried about you sometimes but he also knows you're living with chronic illness every day, so you know best what helps you and he trusts that you will take good care of things and reach out to him when you need him.

If you need a distraction, he'll be happy to read to you or play a board game with you or take a walk etc.; whatever you feel up to in the moment!

Sampo is super worried about you at first when you tell him you have a chronic illness because he's super inexperienced with the topic and has no idea what to do whatsoever. So he asks you what that means for you and what exactly your illness is, but there's definitely unrest in his voice.

With time, he fusses over you less and learns to correct some of the worst case scenarios in his head when you told him about it. Sometimes you need to bonk him with a "Sampo, I'm not dying" reminder but he's getting there.

Of course he could look up your condition in books and inform himself about it properly like Blade, but this idea does not occur to him. Instead, if you tell him that you're feeling under the weather, he just like,,,, gets everything, just to be sure. He reassures you that with Natasha around, you'll be in good hands and he promises to her not to try and scam her anymore so long as she takes good care of his love.

You text him that you're not feeling well and that your illness is flaring up and two hours later Sampo enters your home with four comically large bags. "Hey love, I'm home", he calls out to you, "I didn't know what you needed, so I got everything to be sure."

And he really did get everything. You rummage through the bags and raise an eyebrow at him like: "Sampo, what in the name of the Aeons is all this stuff?" There's 3 additional blankets, a hot water bottle, several over-the-counter medications, a couple of prescription meds that Sampo swears he "actually had a prescription for, don't worry about where I got them", healing crystals which he knows are "probably a scam, but there's no harm in trying and they compliment your eyes"; herbs, soup and medical equipment.

A lot of it has actually 0 to do with your condition but he wasn't 100% sure, so he just brought it. You may not need a humidifier, but you own one now.

The highlight is when he says "hold up, there's one more thing", exits your place and comes back a minute later with an entire echocardiac machine. You might not even have a heart condition. "Sampo...what- did you steal that?", you raise an eyebrow. "I found it and thought it might be useful, so I borrowed it", he says and kisses you to distract you from the topic.

Needless to say from that day on you only send him out with a shopping list and tell him to only explicitly get what you told him you need.

If you ever have any heart symptoms he's like "See? This is why we have the echo machine." "Did you learn literally anything?", you shake your head and sigh.

Sampo may not be the most adapt at handling your chronic illness, but he's got the spirit and Natasha is willing to explain things to him as well.

Regardless of how you're feeling, Sampo always manages to make you smile at the end of the day.

When you need rest he's more than happy to cuddle you and spoil you. He'd wrap you in a blanket and repeatedly kisses your temple, whispering to you that he loves you. "Don't worry", he speaks softly and kisses your forehead, "Sampo Koski will always be here for you. I'm sure you'll feel better soon. At least you don't have a Stellaron in your body." "What's a Stellaron?" "Don't worry about it."

Overall, he's confused but he's very dedicated.

[holy-puckslibrary]

sid to a furry friend's rescue!

florist!reader gets flustered during sid's calendar shoot

parents mentors for the day

chief crosby's got a date... and its not with florist!reader

... was in a bit of a silly goofy mood, forgive me (and be sure to read the endnotes!)

gif from @littlemessyjessi

This is the last thing Sidney Crosby imagined he'd come home to: another man settled in his chair.

His cat is curled in the intruder's lap, and said intruder's hand is curled over your knee. And Sidney's soup—homemade and hand-delivered—split in bowls between you.

"Thought you didn't need a babysitter?"

Sidney watches the gleeful expression wilt on your pretty face—color drained like his bank account succeeding the egregious bid he matched to make bail—with equal measures of self-satisfaction and self-contempt.

"I-I didn't, I just—"

"Settle down, Chief," the ranger laughs. "I knew our little lady here was feeling under the weather, so I thought I'd stop by after my patrol shift and keep her company while you were indisposed."

Sidney glares into the bright cerulean eyes of one Anthony Beauvillier, a park ranger in the Atlantic Coast Uplands region.

If memory serves, he was recently transferred from Waverley to Blue Mountain but resides in Peggy's Cove. This is a 50-minute detour.

In the opposite direction.

The Fire Chief's jaw is painfully tight, his blood scalding. If it were't for his, albeit dwindling, sense of self preservation, Sidney would've marched up those two steps—recently refurbished at his hand, might he add—to forcefully remove the park narc's grubby paw from your body.

Mercifully—for all involved parties, you do so shortly and of your own volition before joining Sid in your driveway.

Guilt smeared over your sickly features, your mouth parts, an explanation hot on your tongue, but all that comes is a grizzly cough that stings Sid's chest just hearing it. Despite his vexation, he's patient with you; he owes it to you both to wait it out. He hopes this is just one big misunderstanding somehow.

But, before you're able, the absolute last person Sidney wants to hear from pipes up.

"Resting, ma biche. You're meant to be resting," Tito attempts to coax you back onto the porch—back to his side—with an outstretched, up-turned hand.

(my doe / my darling — reminder: see end for important notes!)

Not as quick with his French as he'd like to be, he growls at the perceived insult. However, rather than running his fist through the opposition's teeth in your honor, Sidney defiles it.

The park ranger, and everyone else who happens to be out and about tonight, are treated to an unexpected eyeful of their Fire Chief's innermost feelings rushing to the surface. They pour into your mouth with reckless abandon, unconcerned with his public image or the utter lack of privacy; this kiss could be broadcast on the Nightly News for all he cares.

All that matters to Sidney Crosby is making his intentions known, and crystal fucking clear. Staking his claim is just a bonus.

"Well, it looks like my work here is done."

At your dazed expression and Sid's bewilderment, Tito stands from the rocking chair with a genuine smile fixed on his face. As he deposits evergreen Stetson atop his wind-swept hair, he pauses.

"Y'all have a nice night," he winks with a tip of the brim, bidding you farewell before slipping into his government-issued Ram.

As gravel crunches under the vehicle's wheels, gears click into place behind Sidney's burnt umber eyes, now gleaming with clarity.

"Nate and Emmy." — Statement, not a question.

"Please, don't be angry. They just wanted to help because... because I didn't believe that... y'know." You gesture to the sliver of space that still separates you, a bashful little smile pushing up your feverish cheeks.

He couldn't find it in himself to be ticked off about your best friends' not-so-harebrained scheme—which, honestly, deserved more credit than he would ever be willing to give it—if he wanted to. Not while standing so close he can smell the PEI tulips you've been elbow-deep in all month, and definitely not having tasted the whisper of herbal tea lingering on your tongue.

Smirking, he closes the gap with a gentle tug.

"Oh, I know." Voice dropping to a thick hush, his lips hovering a lick above your skin, "D'you believe it now?"

The pinkish skin crinkles around his warm eyes as you pretend to think.

"I could do with a little more... convincing," you ultimately quip. "But, only if you're up for the t—"

The remainder of your cajoling is overtaken by a fit of giggles as he corrals you up and across the porch. The front door slams shut with a satisfying air of finality. Though, not before little Ember slips in with you.

Chief Crosby was thorough by nature, and he'd be damned if he didn't dedicate the evening to dispelling any and all doubts threatening to take root. Feigned, or not.

—

gotcha! teehee 😋 sid really said sick germs?? no match for my LOVE!!! ALSO! tito anon, this ones for you bbyyyyy 💓💓💓💓

***** 'ma biche' was chosen because its typically humorous and rarely intended seriously, + can be considered majorly outdated (even by 60s sitcom standards)—and its not always romantic! ... it also sounds a lot like an english insult, hence sid's reaction lol (at least, according to my french-canadian grandmother who remains very confused by my random call for a french lesson on infrequently used terms of endearment lol) *****

as always, i would really appreciate if you reblogged my work, left a comment or dropped by my inbox w some feedback :) fandom runs on engagement, and so do writers!! thx a mil in advance!

[sharksupermacy]

rain tapestry

rain tapestry - ahn yujin x kim! reader

synopsis: a little lot rain came down while heading to your sister meet and greet, leaving you trapped underneath a tree with a stranger

genre: fluff, reader being a dive for their older sister, yujin being clueless, reader actually being taller than gaeul, short hair runs in the kim family, 04' liner reader

ah crap.

is the first words you thought when the rain started pouring. you were peacefully reading your book on the park bench, spending the hour before the fan sign reading your book with your tote bag tucked up beside you.

you thought at first it wasn't really that bad, and hopefully the seoul weather would allow the small rain to pass over quickly. so you headed over towards a tree, still reading your book.

out of the corner of your eye, you see another run to the tree for shelter from the now-pelting rain. you looked at the stranger, noting how disheveled she looked and how she was holding food in her hand. you both were waiting underneath the tree for the time when the rain would let up, and soon the time for you to leave for the meet and greet was there. it was good that the venue was close to the park where you were seeing the stranger, and you could see the stranger get more and more anxious as time passed. she was still constantly texting on her phone, pacing around, and biting her finger as if she had somewhere to be. deciding against your best interest, you interrupted her thoughts by saying, "hey... uh, do you want to have this umbrella i have in my bag? you seem like you need it more."

she looked up from her phone, looking left and right, before responding , "if you don't mind..." whispering the second half of the sentence. with those words, you took out your umbrella and handed it to her, giving her a nod and a small smile.

"have a nice day, stranger; I hope you can get to wherever you need to with my umbrella," you yelled out in her direction before running off in the direction of the fan signing.

"hey! how am i supposed to return this to you? she yelled out as she quickly realized that you were leaving.

"don't worry about it," you returned with just as much volume, running still while waving your hand in the air.

after getting to the venue 15 minutes early with a soaked jacked, you took off and got your VIP ticket, making a note to thank your sister later. you slicked your hair back, wanting to be slightly more presentable and not have hair in your face.

you were seated near the front, so deciding for convenience's sake for the future, you took out your gaeul plushie and new ive album from your bag. waiting your turn in line number 55, as it was a small signing and greet. soon enough, you ended up near the front of the line, seeing that leeseo was the first one. you had interacted with her before, as gaeul had brought her along with one of yours and her dinner. she was still the little cheeky person you knew her to be, asking if she was your bias. to where you curtly responded no, which caused her to look at you offended jokingly.

next, you headed over to liz, whom you had never met before, and talked with her about cats and how you wished you could adopt one but your mom wouldn't allow it.

soon after, it was wonyoung's turn to talk about how you enjoyed mint chocolate ice cream and how anybody who didn't like the flavor does not taste cough cough gaeul-. she asked who was your bias in the group, wanting to annoy your older sister, who was beside the younger, and of course you had to say leeseo.

then it was your sister's turn. her turning to you, looking so offended that she was not the bias in the group. your response, of course, was to tease her a bit, but still, in the end, she was your bias because she was your sister. you gave her a small knitted thing, stating it wasn't from you but from your mom, who was a huge fan of gaeul. she smiled and asked you to say thank you back to your mom (even though she would call her after this event).

the last was yujin. you had never had any interaction prior to this, so you started describing how you loved their songs and how she was a great leader for them. talking a bit about green tea before being told by the staff to get off the stage and go back to your stage.

for the rest of the signing, you couldn't put a pin in what you had felt with yujin- almost a sense of familiarity, but you couldn't have, right? because you've never met the girl before. you enjoyed the rest of the singing, but just let this thought linger in the back of your mind.

you knew the drill when it came to visiting gaeul after the signing, waiting a bit for the hall to empty out before being approached by staff asking if you were kim y/n. you nodded your head, showing your ID and VIP pass, and asked if you could go visit your sister now. the staff nodded their heads, leading you in the direction of the change room, where you knocked on the door. you were a bit shocked that wonyoung opened it first, but so was she, looking at the girls and asking if anyone knew you, which then led leeseo to leap out of her seat and tackle you. "y/nnie you're so mean. why didn't you tell me you were coming today? the youngest questioned while you tried to stand up with leeseo still attached to you.

"did gaeul not tell you i was coming? you had a questioning expression while looking at your sister, who was about to laugh out loud. "YAH, KIM GAEUL, YOU DIDN'T TELL YOUR MEMBERS I WAS COMING!!! "you yelled out, with your sister slowly helping you up and leeseo still attached to you, dragging you into the room and closing it.

"ok fine.. this is my younger sister kim y/n, she is immature, a mint chocolate lover, and is a 04 liner. y/n this is ive. now wave," gaeul introduced you and made you awkwardly wave at the end too.

"woah, unnie, was your hair this short last time?" said the younger, looking at your short hair, fascinated.

"i think i might've ended up cutting it shorter this time, so... I can't say," you responded while cuddling the girl slightly while letting down your backpack. "oh yea! gaeul, uh, theres food inside there from mom and a message from mom and dad," you blurted out to gaeul after you remembered the reason why you came to the fan sign.

deciding around the 20-minute mark you should end up going ended up detaching yourself from leeseo and decided to quickly introduce yourself to the other members before leaving. then asked if gaeul was still down to have dinner tonight, and she asked if she could invite her members, so you said yes.

you booked a private booth under your name for 7:30 p.m. that night and told gaeul about the reservation and time.

it was nice to stroll through the park again, checking the weather to see if it would rain. thankfully, it wouldn't have happened. you ended up going towards the tree where you had given an umbrella to a stranger and ended up spending so much time there that you ran to dinner.

gaeul texted you that she and the girls were already inside, and you shot her a text back while still sprinting to the restaurant, asking which room they were in. you arrived 5 minutes later, going into the room looking exhausted and plopping yourself beside your sister and yujin, who had an oddly familiar umbrella sticking to the side of her bag.

the dinner was great. the girls started joking with you, and you were also joking with them about random things. we even got to the point of telling embarrassing stories about gaeul, who was now constantly hitting my arm every time i would start telling a story. wonyoung joked about how i must have gotten all the height in my family because i was way taller than gaeul (169 cm). of course, my lovely sister paid for the meal because she knew i would be flat-out broke if i paid for seven people to eat. slowly starting to leave the room as i needed to get home before the last train ran. i got up and hugged each of them before yujin had grabbed my wrist and handed me an umbrella.

"yujin unnie? what is this for? i asked as i was holding the umbrella that was familiar.

"it's your umbrella. iwasthestrangeratthepark-" yujin rambled out the last part of the sentence.

"uh… slow down a bit, yujin unnie; i can't catch what you're saying," you said as you grabbed the older shoulder, trying to reassure her.

"i was the stranger in the park," she stated as she stared into your eyes.

you smiled towards her. "oh, but i knew," you chuckled as you stated. before running off to catch the train back to bupyeong-gu.

a/n: hmmm figuring out what to post... the hardest thing to do. its actually lowkey kinda funny how much unfinished posts i have... anyways RIDE THE W-A-V-E (YO)

[rogerswifesblog]

1 - Better Than Boys

Series Masterlist

A/N: Hi! The first chapter of Better Than Boys! I Hope you’ll like it. There’ll be definitely a lot going on, def some huge dramas of course👀 inspired by this post and the many conversations we @jamneuromain had🤣

Please leave some feedback and reblog!

Pairing: Boyfriends!Dad! Andy Barber x reader

Warnings: boyfriends dad Andy, age gap (Andy mid forties, reader mid/early twenties) , smut, oral m receiving, daddy kink, ball and cock worship, cheating, guilt, angst

Friday evenings were movie nights at Jacobs. You were there. You brought popcorn. The movie had already started. You were cuddled up in a blanket on the couch in their living room. The pizza would be there soon, too.

Jacob wasn’t there.

Your boyfriend wasn’t home and forgot to tell you.

And you felt humiliated as soon as a confused Andy Barber opened the door.

“Oh hello Mr Barber! It’s nice to see you”, you greeted your boyfriend's father, who had just opened the front door. A slightly tired smile on his face, the dark circles under his eyes only confirming how little he slept in all the recent months he was busy with the divorce.

He opened the door a bit wider to let you in. “Hello, Sweets. Jacob left an hour ago. He said he’d be gone for a while”, he informed you, helping you take off your slightly wet jacket from the rain.

Confused, you looked up at the man. “He left? Oh, that’s…he’ll definitely be back soon. Fridays are movie nights, so he should definitely be back soon. I’d wait for him if that’s okay”, of course Andy let you stay. He’d let you stay any day at any hour, if he had to be honest with himself.

And he really shouldn’t feel like that.

“Jacob just called-he won’t make it. The rain is too heavy for him to drive so…he stays the night at his friends place..if you want I can drive you home”, said Andy entering the living room, making you jump in surprise, especially since you were currently watching a horror movie. You felt a blush creep onto your cheeks while you slowly looked back at the older man, before looking out of the window. The weather was awful, the whole world seemed gray and windy. It was raining cats and dogs. You definitely wouldn’t feel good making Andy drive in this weather.

Sighing, you shook your head. “No, I’d stay the night if that’s okay. It’s late and the rain is awful. I’d be worried when you’d have to drive home”, you shrugged, just when you turned your head back to the tv the possessed doll appeared scaring you enough to nearly make you drop the popcorn bowl.

At the same time Andy laughed in amusement. “ ‘Course you can stay. Do you mind if I accompany you? I’d love to take my mind off the horrors I’m going through and watch a real one-Annabelle, right?” “Yeah, I’d love some company”, you mumbled pulling the blanket higher to your face.

Andy sat down next to you with his own pizza, already having half of it eaten. “If you want some more help yourself, I won’t be able to eat both mine and JJs pizza”, you chuckled, but even to your ears it sounded stained.

“Sure, you can have some of mine, too, if you want”, he said, putting the box on the glass table in front of the couch. While he leaned back, his arm accidentally brushed over yours. Goosebumps erupted over your whole body. A shiver run down your back.

God, why couldn’t this stop? It happened every time Andy touched you, if by accident or not.

The occasional hugs to congratulate someone on your birthday, or well, Andy’s birthday. Every time that happened you felt your heartbeat quicken, your breath hitching and sometimes when he pulled you a bit tighter against him, even your pussy throb. He affected you in every way possible.

Twenty minutes later you decided to finally take a piece of Andy’s pizza, immediately feeling your mouth burn. “Holy shit-“, you coughed putting the piece back. Andy looked at you in surprise, partly because of the swear and also because of your coughing. “What-why is it so spicy”, you tried to clear your throat, but it only felt worse.

“Right I forgot-it’s probably because of the jalapeños and hot sauce, wait let me get you some milk. It should help”, with that he rushed to the kitchen filling you a glass of milk. As soon as he gave you the glass you chugged it down, some of the milk not even making it into your mouth, instead leaking from the corners of your mouth down your chin and throat, soaking the collar of your t-shirt.

And Andy was hard now.

He immediately looked away, not trusting himself with you around. Especially when you look like this. Wet from the milk, messy. What would happen if you’d suck his dick? Would you be this messy too? Would you let him finish on your face? Let him rub his cum into your skin? Mark you?

Fuck.

His dick twitched again and he really hoped you couldn’t see it when he covered himself with the blanket, also taking his pizza box to cover his crotch a bit more. Now you definitely wouldn’t notice it anymore.

“How can you eat these? I feel like my throat is bleeding”, you mumbled, drinking the last sip of your milk. “Don’t swallow-it will maybe help a bit better”, he couldn’t stop himself from licking over his own bottom lip when he saw your red, swollen lips. How badly he just wanted you to let him fill your mouth with- Andy, get a grip on yourself.

“Any better?”, he asked, feeling a bit bad having forgotten to tell you about the jalapeños on his pizza. You nodded slowly, feeling some of the milk leak from the corners of your mouth while you gulped down the milk again.

This time Andy couldn’t stop himself from brushing his thumb over the corner of your mouth, then over your lips before gently pushing his thumb into your mouth, pressing against your tongue. Noticing how you didn’t even move away. He could even feel like your tongue pushed against the tip of his finger.

You were looking right into his eyes, never breaking eye contact while you slowly sucked his thumb a bit further into your mouth. This time it was Andy’s breath that hitched. You were definitely doing this on purpose. Making him all hot and bothered.

Now that he thought about it, maybe it wasn’t the first time you tried to tease him.

Maybe the first time you did it was when you walked around the house just in an oversized t-shirt, your legs on full display and when you bent down to pick up the napkin you dropped he saw the lacy panties you wore.

Or maybe it was when you left your phone on the table with a picture in dark blue lingerie. A picture of you. He recognised the necklace you had on. A necklace he quickly bought after Jacob told him he had no gift for you. So technically…the necklace he gave you.

There had been so many times he had to control his damn dick when you were around, always bending down right in front of him or brushing your ass against him while passing by him.

“You little minx”, he didn’t even mean to say it, but the smirk he received made it clear you knew exactly what you were doing. He pulled out his thumb from your lips, not being able to stop now. The switch was now turned over, he couldn’t control it anymore. He needed you. To feel you. Your young, pretty body is against him. You soft, plump lips on his dick. Wanting to hear you moan. Make you cum, over and over again. Maybe he’d manage to get you to squirt. He was sure nobody had done it before. Not his son. He could hear the two of you sometimes-the walls were thin. Even just from hearing your fake moans he could tell you were pretending.

He wanted to hear the real moans. He wanted you to orgasm on his fingers, mouth, dick, face, whatever.

Andy grabbed your shirt, pulling you against his chest immediately pressing his lips to your in a demanding and wanting kiss. His tongue didn’t need to fight for dominance, already having won it. A gasp escaped your lips when he pulled you over his lap, instantly thrusting against your core, the blanket pulling down from your bodies.

Panting you started kissing his neck, gently sucking gentle marks beneath his collar since you didn’t want anyone to see them. Or well, just one person. His son. His son shouldn’t see the hickeys you were currently leaving on his fathers neck.

Fuck.

Only then did you really start thinking about that. About the fact that you kissed Andy Barber. Your boyfriend's dad. The man you had a crush on since the day you met him. The cause of your wet dreams. The cause of your best orgasms when you fucked yourself on your dildo, thinking about him.

A moan escaped Andy’s lips when your hand wrapped around his thick cock. You haven’t even noticed when you had pulled his sweatpants down-or did he do that? It didn’t matter anyway.

“Let me suck you off”, you whispered against his neck, licking over the mark you just sucked underneath his collarbone. By the thought of having your lips wrapped around his cock his hips bucked against your crotch again. “Fuck, yea Sweets, suck Daddy’s cock.”

He didn’t mean to say it. Until now he never even thought about referring to himself as daddy. It just slipped. Like he couldn't control his own brain to mouth filter anymore. Now he definitely scared you off, just when it started to get…interesting. But then again, he could’ve expected you’d surprise him once again.

As soon as he said that your eyes widened, a tingle spread in your chest. And a little smirk on your face. You couldn’t stop yourself from biting down on your bottom lip. “Sure, Daddy”, your voice was only a whisper while you slowly leaned down to his cockhead, the red tip already leaking in your palm while you slowly stroked his thick shaft. Your thumb brushing right along the vein that you’d love to feel against your throbbing cunt.

And Andy…was definitely bigger and better than Jacob, thicker, longer and slightly curved, perfect to hit the spot that neither you or Jacob could find.

You licked over the slit, tasting his precum on your tongue. Moaning quietly you licked slowly over his length, down to his balls, making him gasp. God, his bells were always so sensitive yet no woman ever gave them much attention until now. You started licking and suckling on them, especially when you felt him press your head harder into his balls, making you suck and lick on them greedily.

You were all enthusiastic, lacking the finesse of a more experienced person but the eagerness made up for it, especially when he felt how you nuzzled against his cock. How you worshiped his dick, playing with him, slurping and lapping his pre cum up, before once again trying to get as much of his balls in your mouth as possible.

When he looked down at you, your cheeks and lips were glistening with his pre-cum. “Fuck, sweets you’re so pretty when you’re on your knees for me”, he mumbled grabbing you by the hair and pulling a bit away, his other hand positioning his cocktip at your lips. “Now let Daddy check your throat”, a grin spread over his lips when you opened your mouth wide, letting him slid into your mouth, slowly fucking in deeper.

You let him thrust into your mouth as he pleased, first slow but getting faster and harsher with the second, especially after noticing the lack of your gag reflex. “Oh what a treasure you are, any man would love to call you his, you know that?”, he moaned, pushing you further down, till your nose touched his pubicbone. “Oh fuck-and that’s what you can do? Didn’t think I’d be even more jealous of my kid-and here you can deep throat me”, you felt blood rush to your cheeks listening to his words, at the same time wetness drenched your panties. “-my filthy little girl, my perfect girl”, he moaned, letting you come up for air.

A few more thrusts and he felt his balls tighten, coming closer to his orgasm, which you also noticed, touching his tight balls and massaging them. “Daddy-please”, you moaned before suckling again at his cock, greedy slurping moving your head quickly up and down, till his grip on your head hardened.

“Fuck-open wide Sweets, daddy has a gift for you”, he grunted and you immediately opened your mouth wider, letting him shoot his load on your tongue and face, stroking himself to the last drop dripped onto your face, before pulling his pants back on.

You smiled at him bashfully, swallowing his cum, while he leaned down and kissed your cum stained lips gently, his hands cupping your cheeks, slowly massaging the cum with his thumbs into your skin. Marking you. Just like he wanted to do it since he had met you. The endorphins filled the air between you, both of you smiling against each others lips.

He pulled you back onto his lap after pulling his sweatpants back up. “You’re amazing sweets”, he smiled, pecking your lips again. Butterflies erupted in your belly, instead of being comforting, only making it harder to breathe, as the truth slowly sank in. While he grabbed some napkins from the table you felt your blood run cold. The guilt creeps up, making your chest feel tighter. You didn’t say anything while he wiped off the cum from your face, somehow making you even more humiliated than when you had actually sucked his dick and he talked about his son, your boyfriend.

What the hell have you been thinking?

Just when he wanted to kiss you again you backed away, your heart feeling tight at the confused and sad face he made, while you slowly stood up from his lap, stepping away from him. “Where are you going? Are you-Y/N? Are you okay?”, he started asking softly, but nervous.

You backed away from Andy when he stood up, trying to gently take your hands, but you hastily pulled away. “Don’t-this-this was a mistake“ you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes. Of course Andy noticed, feeling his own throat getting tighter, not being able to make a sound. He opened his mouth but no words came out.

Without saying anything else you rushed into jacob's room, the door falling loudly shut behind you.

Andy felt his heart break into a thousand pieces as he watched you run from him. He dropped back onto the couch the feeling of warmth and comfort now replaced by devastation and regret.

What the hell had he just done?

The tears finally started falling, the quiet sobs leaving your mouth while you slowly slid down the door, pulling your legs up close to your chest. The taste of his cum still in your mouth, reminding you of what you just did. The humiliation finally hitting you hard. Everything coming up. You were pathetic.

God.

No.

What have you done??

No, no, no.

This was such a huge mistake.

You cheated on your boyfriend.

You fucking cheated on your boyfriend with his dad.

The worst part of it was…

You didn’t regret what happened with Andy.

You regret being in a relationship with Jacob in the first place.

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it and are curious what happens next!

Support your writers by reblogging and leaving feedback! Receiving feedback motivates a lot!

Questions? HC ideas? Drabble ideas? Thoots? (For this au or in general) -> flood my inbox!😋❤️

Taglist: @wintasssoldier @shmaptain-ashmerica [ I tagged you because I saw you commented/reblogged the series Masterlist once:)]

Wanna be tagged? Be active by reblogging and leaving feedback and let me know!

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ ℂ𝕠𝕝𝕕𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ anon request: Hi there! Could I request An and Shizuku with an s/o who loves cold and cool weather and places?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ Hiii~ Of course! Also OMG my two fav girls?! Are you spoiling me or smth~? 🤭

Okey but anyway, I just hope you'll like it!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

✧ Shizuku knows you like cold weather and yet she's always worried you're gonna get a cold...

✧ even if you're used to temperatures like that, she'll still give you a warm jacket or a scarf in order to keep you away from sickness

✧ even if it's cold place, she's still gonna be worried about you, so there's no getting away from her when it comes to that...

✧ sure, you can argue with her but it's hard.. but you can get a compromise if you play your cards right! Like... she'll just check your temperature every now and then, and if you get cold, she's inmidietly pulling out additional layers

✧ getting some advices from Shiho very recommended here

"It's 10°C!! Quick, here's a scarf."

✧ she'll also scold you any time you sit on something cold...

✧ by now she began to carry a pillow or a blanket so you could sit on it instead

✧ also, get ready for lots of homemade tea! She takes some with her every time you have a walk to make sure you're never gonna be cold

✧ she's like a mom really... she may be exaggerating a bit, but she means no harm! Quite the opposite, she's just worried about you

✧ and you bet she'll be extremely sad the moment she heard you decline her offers

"Awh... why not? Is it the taste? I can make some other type of tea next time! At least wear this... you're gonna catch a cold in this weather...!"

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @qwnelisa @miya-akane @miguelito-maruti-blog - come get your beautiful model~

✧ An most likely likes cold places too, tho I feel like she's easily getting cold... just the feeling I get from how she wears hoodie almost all the time! Dunno if it was explained somehwere in the event story...

✧ you got that likes cold x is usually cold dynamic

✧ she's often joking how "she can go but she's not gonna share her hoodie if you'll be cold!" but you both know, she'd let herself freeze to death for sale of giving you her hoodie so YOU won't freeze

✧ despite her being a bit... resistant towards idea of going out when it's so cold at first, she soon becomes used

"Out? But it's like freezing outside!"

"You know we can grab a coffee on our way so it'd be warmer, right?"

"Hm.. Alright..! Guessed you convinced me."

✧ but a nice, warm cup of coffee is enough to get her used to date in this cold weather!

✧ despite that, you two probably often end with cold... so you spend days in An's room, her dad taking care of not only his daughter, but also her lover...

✧ at least it's fun to joke and cough together? Well.. usually?

✧ she's also a bit careless when it comes to cold weather... never having blanket to sit on so you two sit on cold surface... and you still don't know why you catched w cold?

✧ the worst thing is... she refuses to admit she's starting to feel sick, because she doesn't want to say goodbye! Especially if you two are having so much fun together

"Achoo! No, I'm fine... We can continue. Let's go on playground and not overthink it, alright?"

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@bleachtheidiot @akitosheart @bad-the-an-enjoyer @qxmmi - come get your star girl!