#that's what happens when you work full time and get the flu

[writing-whump]

Would loveeee to see hector super sick and feverish with a stomach bug where all he wants is to be comforted by Isaiah/Arnie/both- just love his softer side- pretty sure he’s a softie deep down 🤭

Hey nonny! Thank you for the request!! Found a good way to insert it. This will have a part 2 for another request hehe.

Something serious

Hector burst through the door, heading straight for the kitchen without a word of greeting.

Arnie was not taking it personally, but he was curious about what kind of hunger spree made Hector so desperate.

He got up from the couch to check. "Did you skip lunch or-?

Except Hector wasn't riding their fridge. He was braced over the kitchen sink and retching loudly.

"Oi. Okay," Arnie said with a wince as a huge gush of puke hit the bottom of the granite. "What happened to you?"

"Ate-uuurp-too fast." Hector burped up another mouthful before spitting and letting the faucet run over the mess.

"Really? Wasn't something off about the food?" Hector's speed and capacity were way too impressive for this to happen easily.

Hector swiped his wrist over his mouth, sweaty all over.

Arnie tore off a handful of kitchen towels and handed it to him.

Hector took it gratefully, mopping his face and mouth. "I was so hungry at lunch that my stomach hurt. Must have eaten too quick, cause I got queasy on the way." Hector put a hand on his belly as it whined loudly. For puking just a minute ago, his stomach looked distended, as if he was still full.

"Sure it was hunger? Maybe you were getting down with something and ate lunch on top," Arnie sighed, grabbing Hector by the elbow to steer him towards the living room. "How many times do I have to say that you shouldn't eat, when your stomach is hurting?"

Hector was feeling crappy enough to follow Arnie's guidance, flopping down on the couch and curling his hands protectively around his middle. "Ugh. Thought it would help."

Arnie rolled his eyes. ""It's always the same with you—no restraint. Listening to your body's signals could have spared you from all this puking."

Hector huffed. "Stop lecturing, snotnose, and get me some water."

Arnie stuck his tongue at him, but obeyed, getting some cold water from the kitchen, checking if the sink was clean on the way.

Hector gulped down the water greedily, even as Arnie patted his hand. "Slow down, you'll make yourself sick again."

To be fair, Hector tried to slow the tempo before it picked up again. Arnie sat down next to him with a grimace. No helping that.

"You want to watch something and take it easy?" Arnie asked, putting the back of his hand to Hector's forehead. He was a little warm. "I think you should rest. Looks like a flu to me."

Hector, feeling evidently better, swatted his hand away. "And whose fault is that? You're the only flu spreader around. Damn human germs."

Arnie gave him another eye roll. "Your immunity needs some work then, if you catch things that I don't even have symptoms for."

Arnie put on a rerun of Big Bang Theory, which was usually so foreign and boring to Hector that it put him to sleep. And he was right, his older brother was snoring away, head lolling to the armrest, in a few minutes.

After two episodes, Hector stirred though, grimacing with a moan.

"You want a blanket?" Arnie asked quietly as Hector curled into himself, although he could see some more sweat beading on his neck.

"Nah. Think I'm just going to sleep this off in the bed," Hector said, not bothering to muffle a burp as he got up clumsily. His hand shot up to cradle the top of his belly like it was about to fall open.

"You sure you didn't eat something spicy at lunch?" Arnie said, watching him stumble out with another burp. "You get disgusting like that every time."

Hector gave him an angry glare. "I do not. I can handle spicy food."

Arnie snorted. "Yeah, yeah. Tell that to someone who doesn't have to live with you and hear all the consequences."

Hector grunted something crude on his way, which caused Arnie to chuckle.

It wouldn't be unusual in the slightest if he did eat something spicy and then played it off as a flu just to not feel embarrassed.

It would be fine. Hector was a grumpy patient, even if it was the flu, but as long as he stopped eating and took a day off, he would be fine.

Wolves were so senstive to pain. Just a bit of discomfort, and they were all dramatic and moaning. Hector more than most. Physical injuries he got rid of with his shadow, so any sickness, cold, or flu that wouldn't heal had him up in arms and whiny. Arnie had gotten used to not taking it too seriously.

Arnie watched a few more episodes, checking his phone and dozed off on the couch himself.

He went to check on Hector, but he looked peacefully asleep in the bed.

Arnie prepared him a glass of water and a bucket, just in case. Leaving the door open and satisfied with his precautions, he went to his own room, catching the sleeping wave before it was worse off.

...

Arnie woke up to the harsh sounds of throaty retches. Scrambling up a little slow from sleep, he braced himself on the doorframe in Hector's room, switching the small bedside table lamp on.

Hector didn't even get up, hunched over the bed and heaving over the bucket.

What did, however, get up was his shadow. It was sprawling across the wall behind the bed and wiggling uneasily across the floor.

Arnie stepped around it gingerly. Hector's shadow wouldn't hurt him, he knew, but it was a scary big thing to crawl around his feet.

Despite Hector's best efforts, the bucket was basically empty, only spits of yellow bile inside.

Arnie sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed sleepily. Always so dramatic with Hector.

"Hex, you got nothing inside you, you are empty," he said, patting his back.

"Doesn't-doesn't feel like it-" Hector coughed between heaves.

He moaned, clutching the side of his belly as he lay back down, breathing harshly. "That freaking hurt."

"Flu it is," Arnie said with a yawn. "You are heaving even when running on empty."

"Then why the hell does it hurt?" Hector complained, sniffling. Arnie admonished himself for not bringing some more paper towels, too.

"It's normal to get cramps during the flu-"

"No, not crampy" Hector protested through gritted teeth. "It fucking hurts. And the pain travels."

Arnie frowned. "Travels? What?"

"The spot," Hector said, clutching at the right side of his stomach. It was still bloated, even though he had nothing to vomit. Arnie's eyebrows scrunched even more. This was starting to get weird.

"It was in the middle and now it's freaking here and it feels like someone stabbed me," Hector said angrily, just a breath away from whining. His shadow made an aggressive, wavy motion above their heads.

Arnie rubbed at his eyes, much more alert now. "So to sum it up - you felt sick during lunch, thought it was hunger, threw up at home and you were in pain since then?"

"I - I felt kind of off yesterday too, but like...just sluggish? Thought I was tired." Hector rolled onto his back, hands sliding lower on his right side.

Arnie leaned in closer. "Show me." He gently pried Hector's hands away, lifting up his shirt. His stomach was still so blown up, but he could see nothing on the spot. It seemed too specific for a place though, lower right abdomen...he pushed his hands around, trying to find some kind of physical proof, a bump or swell. Hector didn't protest his poking, eyes closed and pinched.

Arnie was the one with any basic knowledge of human anatomy and complications, since Hector always insisted that were human weaknesses that had nothing to do with him.

Arnie retracted his hands with a sigh, considering writing it off as a cramp lasting too long, when Hector whimpered. Like a real little whimper. He locked his limbs together, arms around his stomach again, tears leaking out. His shadow all but flooded the damn room, swinging angrily from one side to the other at Hector's pain.

"What, what did I do?" Arnie asked in panic, falling to his knees on the floor and taking Hector's forearm in both hands. "Hex? Hex, what-"

Hector twitched under his hands, twisting his face into the sheets as a trickle of bile came out of the corner of his mouth.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry!" Arnie said, pressing his forehead to Hector's as his older brother rode the pain out.

Hector said nothing, another little whimper coming up.

Arnie got up as quickly as he could to grab his phone. He dialed up the ambulance and called as he returned, not wanting to leave Hector alone.

"Noooo, no hospital," Hector whined pitifully.

"Yes, we have to," Arnie said in a strangled noise, putting his free hand on Hector's shoulder. "Please. Trust me. This is something serious."

With great effort, Hector pulled a hand away from his stomach and clutched Arnie's forearm, breathing raggedly as they both waited for the medics.

[slowdiscco]

Boardwalk Empire as: a horror movie

[sabersandsnipers]

Drabbles: Reader is Sick or in Pain

Gortash

Enver Gortash considers himself a very busy man, but still finds himself wanting to spend every free moment he has at your side. And he feels anger. Anger at the fact that he can’t cure you instantly. Sure, there are spells to heal wounds and cure disease, but nothing for a simple cold. 

He’s in and out of your shared chambers throughout the day to check on you. He walks in after a particularly time consuming event only to find you buried under the covers, a cough bursting from you every minute or so. Your congested breathing causes his heart to ache. He wishes he could take the pain for you. 

He pulls back the covers a bit to take in your beautiful features. Your eyelashes flutter at the sudden brightness. He places his hand on your forehead. The warmth of them feels good against your skin, and you lean into his touch. 

He can’t help himself, he leans down and presses his lips to yours. Your hands find their way to his chest. He waits for the feel of your palms sliding over his skin, but instead you give him a slight push away. 

“No, you’ll get sick,” you say, eyes staring up at him. 

“I think I’ll live,” he responds, grinning. Then he climbs right into bed with you, robes and all. 

Astarion 

Astarion had all but forgotten what it was like to get ill. In all his two hundred years of living as a vampire, he had never gotten sick. It was perhaps the only perk of becoming such a creature. 

So when you fall ill, he delves into every book he can find on helping with fevers, flus, and everything inbetween. He also visited Shadowheart and Halsin, hoping they could help provide some remedies for you. 

The stomach flu is currently what has you in its clutches. Every hour, your stomach rolls and empties what little content is left. Astarion is right there by your side every time. He holds your hair back and uses his cold fingers to trace along your neck. 

Every time you get sick, your body flushes with heat. Sweat gathers on your forehead and your body shakes with fever. Astarion notices your struggle, and will pull you into his cool chest for relief. 

The feel of his cold skin against yours brings a sigh of relief from your lips. His chest is firm yet smooth, and grounds you against the pain you feel. And he’s more than happy to help you. He prays to whatever gods you believe in that you will recover soon. 

Halsin 

Your cycle is here earlier than its supposed to be, and it’s here in full force as well. The pain in your lower abdomen is blinding, radiating to your lower back and digging in its claws wherever it can. Curling up into a ball and applying heat when it’s available is the only relief you can find. 

Halsin paces in your shared tent, gathering whatever remedies he can to help you. Something you didn’t realize about Halsin until you shared a tent by the way, was that when in private, he’s always naked. Usually watching his massive frame do such gentle work has you craving his touch. But today, the pain takes over. 

“My heart, what has helped you the most with your pain?” he asks, leaning down to lightly brush a strand of hair out of your face. 

“Heat,” you respond, leaning into the warmth of his touch. 

He smiles. “I think I can help with that.” 

He scooches in behind you, pulling you back so you’re flush with his chest. One of his magnificently large hands snakes over your lower abdomen, pressing down so waves of warmth radiate towards the spasms and cramps that won’t leave you be. He’s not done yet either. He nudges a large, muscled thigh between your legs, right up against your core. The heat from him soothes the soreness you feel there. 

“Oh gods,” you sigh, moving your hips back to get as close to him as you can. 

Halsin groans. “Careful, little one. I need you to rest, and it’s hard to let that happen when you move like that.” He twitches against your bottom. 

You grin. Even in this condition, he still can’t help but find you irresistible. 

[natalievoncatte]

It began with a sneeze.

Lena’s entire body tensed, pain wracking her sinuses, and she tried to tamp it down and swallow it. There was a room full of investors, and she paused mid-presentation. She held up a protesting hand, signaling that she needed no help, and waved off her assistants. Finally the feeling subsided and she soldiered on, accidentally repeating part of the presentation. It didn’t matter, it was just a formality.

After, she was sitting alone in her office and she did sneeze this time, hard, into a silk handkerchief. A dull ache had settled into her bones and she felt droopy, tired. Still, she had work to do. Not the work she wanted to do. Not running the company, not strategizing. Not inventing or innovating. It was menial. It was assigned. She worked for her brother.

It was his pretty revenge, because Lena shot him two times in the chest. Then a bunch of very strange shit happened and Lena suddenly found herself in an entirely different world where Lex had never died, even though they both remembered it. A hellish nightmare world where Lillian was a philanthropist and Kara and all her friends worked more or less for Lex, keeping aliens in check.

Lena couldn’t go to her best friend for help, because her best friend had betrayed her. Lena almost wished she’d been erased when the multiverse collapsed, replaced by a copy of herself who’d never felt this agony.

There was a truth she would never admit, even to herself.

She’d feel better if Kara was here.

The days dragged on and so did her cold. Except, it wasn’t a cold. On the third day she woke to a high fever, feeling a little wobbly when she forced herself out of bed. Her sinuses burned and she had to breathe through her mouth. When she took her temperature, it was elevated, close to being dangerous. Every muscle and joint on her body ached and the sight of food made her retch involuntarily.

Lena had the goddamn flu.

She did something she’d never done: by a curt email, she informed her staff that she was ill and would not be in the office today. Instead, she rummaged through her closet, her breath catching on a familiar sweatshirt.

It was a Midvale High School Mathletes sweater. It was Kara’s, but Lena knew with a certainty that Kara had not been in Lena’s penthouse since It Happened. There was no way for this to get here but…

She stifled a sob. This world had its own Lena, one whose life she’d appropriated or merged with or God knows what, and that Lena Kara’s clothes in her home. Lena kept stumbling across them and it hurt more every time.

Had they been happy, before? Kara must have spent the night. They must have been close. Lena had been close with her Kara; they hung out and Kara had slept over a few times but they weren’t really on your-clothes-in-my-closet terms. Had that been what happened here? Did they share the bed? Were they…

Did they…

Lena put it on, felt it shelter her body. She put in two pairs of leggings and hoped her laptop would warm her. She curled with it on the couch, and got exactly nothing done. After three hours she closed the computer and flipped channels until she found the old friend of the seriously ill and the chronically unemployed: reruns.

Curling on one end of the couch, she laid her head to rest on the arm and her eyes slid closed.

It seemed that as soon as she did, she opened them again. Her head was throbbing. She tried to push herself up, but it was too great an effort and she flopped down again. Her throat was dry and sticky, and unable to breathe through her nose, air came in reedy wheezes. Swallowing only made it worse, and she felt a rising panic.

Something beyond sleep, thick and heavy, was dragging her down, even as she struggled.

A chill night breeze rolled over her, and she shivered explosively.

"Easy now. I've got you."

Powerful arms lifted her limp body and carried her. Gently, Lena was laid on her bed and a blanket thrown over her.

She opened her eyes. Kara sat her up, cradling her in one arm as she held a glass in another, so Lena could drink. She let the cool water wet her throat and did her best to breathe again. Gently, Kara lowered her back down to rest and folded a cool, damp cloth on her forehead. Lena sighed in relief.

“Get out. Don’t want you here.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara whispered. “I can’t leave you alone like this. I’ll be right back.”

She was indeed right back, Supergirl walking into Lena’s budoir carrying a drug store bag full of medicine. She sat Lena up again and administered the foul tasting stuff over Lena’s protests, then shut off the lights.

Lena tried to roll on her side. It didn’t go well.

Kara knelt and slipped out of her boots. Then, she undid one side, then the other, and unclasped her cape from her shoulders. She then swept it over Lena and tucked it around her gently.

“Kara,” Lena muttered.

“Hush. It’s a blanket. It’ll keep you warm.”

Lena wasn’t sure what happened next, if she dreamed it or if it was real, but she felt the bed shift as Kara climbed aboard and laid down beside her.

Eventually, she woke up again. Kara was tucked against her back, one arm thrown protectively over Lena’s side, resting on her blanket cocoon. Kara snored lightly, lying on the bed so that her chin rested on the crown of Lena’s head.

Kara noticed she’d stirred and silently stood, offering Lena her next dose of syrupy, nasty medicine. She accepted it just as silently and laid back down to sleep.

The cycle continued. Day came. Kara didn’t leave her. She drew the curtains and laid on the bed beside Lena, never speaking, never making any demands.

Finally Lena was well enough to roll over and face her.

“Why are you here?”

“I heard Gillian’s Island coming from your living room and thought you must be in danger.”

Lena snorted in spite of herself.

Kara softened. Her big blue eyes, eyes that could launch a thousand ships, carried such a weight of sorrow that Lena felt a surge of pain and regret in her heart, wondering why in the hell they were feuding. No. She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t just…

“I’m sorry.”

Lena tucked herself into the blankets. She wanted to roll over, to turn away, to stop this before she did something she would regret later.

“I keep finding your things in my place,” Kara murmured. “It makes me wonder if it was different here. If we were different. What if I’d made other choices. If I’d been honest with you. Bolder.”

“You weren’t,” said Lena. “You aren’t. That’s the way it is. That door was closed.”

“When I landed on your balcony, it was open.”

“A mistake I won’t repeat. Careless. Thank you for helping me, but I didn’t need it. I don’t need you.”

Kara closed her eyes and sighed.

“I hate doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“You’re lying.”

Lena jerked back, as much as her aching body would allow, anyway.

“How do you know?”

It didn’t hit Lena that she hadn’t offered a denial, at least not until later.

“Easy,” Kara smiled. “I cheat. Skin conductivity and moisture levels. Heat bloom on your skin. Pulse. Pupil dilation. Breathing patterns.”

“I have the flu. That’s why.”

Kara frowned.

“You’re wearing my sweater.”

“It’s not yours. It’s hers. The lives we stole.”

Kara shook her head. “That’s not what he did. Your brother created this world to live out his fantasies and make me suffer. That’s why your things are at my place and mine at yours. It’s showing us the life we should have had,” a tear shone on Kara’s cheek, “had I not been a fuckup and a coward. If I’d trusted you.”

Lena choked back a small sob, and started to cough violently.

Without a word, Kara gathered her up and rested Lena’s head on her shoulder, walling her up in those beefy, protective arms of hers. Lena allowed it, curling her fingers against the twitching muscles of Kara’s back.

Lena wanted to pull away…

No. That was a lie, a miserable fucking lie. She didn’t want to pull back. She didn’t want to fight. She thought she had to, that she needed to.

“Don’t cry,” Kara said, tenderly brushing a tear from Lena’s cheek. “I know you’re furious with me. I know things are bad. I know your brother has power over us. It’ll get better. I won’t let him hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.”

“You already hurt me.”

“I know,” Kara whimpered, her voice wobbling. “I’m sorry, Lena. I’ve never been more sorry about anything in my entire life. I wake up every day praying I can find some way to take it back."

"You can't."

Kara tensed.

"Maybe you don't have to," said Lena.

Kara's breath caught. She lowered Lena to the bed, and this time wrapped them in the blankets together. She was so warm.

"I've got you."

Blessedly, Lena slept.

Each time she woke, she felt better. Eventually, she was well enough for Kara to leave the bed. A few minutes later, Kara came back, and she brought breakfast. Her appetite back, Lena dug in, enjoying the tea Kara brought.

Kara took the tray and plates when she was done.

"You look a lot better."

Lena nodded. "Ah, yes, thank you."

Silence. There was a heavy pause, and then Kara sat down beside her on the bed.

"I wish I'd been brave before."

Lena looked at her, really looked at her, this enchanting vision looking at Lena like she hung all the stars in the sky, her eyes so full of longing that Lena felt she might fall into them forever.

"What would you do if you were brave?"

"This."

Warm fingers curled around Lena's chin. Kara leaned in, and Lena felt it happen even before their lips touched. When they did, it was electric. Lena felt the world spinning. Kara caught her and lowered her to the bed.

"I don't care about multiverses and cosmic entities and your evil brother. No matter what they throw at me, I will always find my way back to you. If you want me."

Lena pulled her down into another kiss, and that was her answer.

[makethatelevenrings]

Skeletons in the Closet // D. Grayson x gn!reader

Requested? Yep!

Warnings: reader is followed home at night!!! if anyone ever follows you home, you have my consent to beat the everloving shit out of them!!!! your life is far more valuable to a fucking creeps!!!

Summary: While being followed home after work, you get a call from your boyfriend. He sends in some help from a friend. Things are realized.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck fuck.

With your keys clutched tightly between your thumb and palm and your pepper spray poking out from your grip, you hurried down the street with your heart racing faster each step. Another glance over your shoulder confirmed it. You were being followed.

You had to stay late at work because two of your coworkers had the flu and this was the punishment you got for trying to be nice. Fuck this. Fuck capitalism. Fuck the world and having to be scared walking to your fucking apartment.

And just your luck, the red line stop near your apartment was closed for repairs to the platform structure so that meant you had to walk an extra four blocks to get home. Fuck.

Your phone buzzed in your hand and you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sudden jolt to your system. With shaking hands you swiped your thumb across the screen and pressed it against your cheek as you kept walking.

“Hello?” You really hoped that the person on the other line couldn’t hear the pure, visceral fear in your voice but you doubted it.

“Hey. I was just calling because you never texted that you left work or got home.” Oh. Right. Your boyfriend of three months, Dick Grayson, was a perfect gentleman and he always appreciated a text from you when you got home at night, whether it was from work or a night out with friends. He didn’t care if you were out late partying. He just wanted to make sure you were home safe at the end of the night.

“Right, shit. Sorry. I just got out of work a half hour ago and…” You glanced back at the guy following you and dropped your voice. “Someone’s following me. I’m about ten minutes max away from my apartment and I’ve got pepper spray, but you should know that I-”

“Where are you?” His voice had grown frigid in the time you were rambling and you peered up at the street sign you just passed.

“Avalon and Fifth.”

Dick inhaled deeply and then said something away from the phone, as though he was talking to someone in the background. He moved back closer to the phone and started talking quickly.

“Okay, baby, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to put my friend on the line and she’s going to keep talking to you, okay? And in the meantime, I have another friend in the area and he’s going to come meet you. Keep walking towards your place. Don’t stop moving. Barbara will talk you through it.”

The line clicked before you could say anything and then a calm, pleasant voice filled your ear. “Hi, I’m Barbara. Dick’s told me a lot about you. Did you know he’s kind of obsessed with you?”

The sudden levity of the question elicited a laugh from you as you hurried down the darkened street. You could hear the footsteps getting closer and it made your throat close with anxiety.

“Hey Barbara, what’s going to happen?” you asked quietly.

“Don’t you worry about that. Just keep walking. You’re doing fine. Why did you stay late at work?”

“My coworkers are sick. Flu season and all that.”

“Hmmm, viruses are a bitch.” There was something in her voice that indicated more to her comment than you knew, but you didn’t have time to pry. The closer you got to an ally, the faster the steps sounded until the guy was full on sprinting towards you.

“Fuck,” you gasped as you turned to watch him barrel at you. Before he could get within three feet of you, a blur of black and blue swung down from seemingly nowhere and then Nightwing was standing over him, escrima sticks clutched tightly in his hands.

“Go,” the vigilante barked. He looked back at you and what a sight you probably made. Shaking, phone pressed to cheek and other hand gripping keys and pepper spray, and what felt like tears streaming down your cheeks, you stared back at the mask covered eyes. His chin dipped and you realized that he was inspecting you for some kind of injury. Nightwing raised his head to stare at you once more and then he jutted his chin out towards you in a silent command. The silvery white scar on his lower jar stood out under the light of the street lamps.

“Go,” he repeated. The man below him tried to sit up and the vigilante snapped one of his bludgeons down onto the man’s arm with a sickening crack, eliciting a scream from the man. You almost felt sorry for him.

Almost.

You didn’t need another prompting and instead you turned, tucked tail, and sprinted the rest of the way home. You nearly forgot that Barbara was on the other end of the phone until you heard her call your name.

“I’m…I’m okay. I think. I…I’m okay.” Your hands shook so hard as you tried to unlock the door to your apartment that your dropped your keys and cursed under your breath. Scooping them up once more, you tried again and flew into your apartment.

“I’m home. Door’s locked. I’m fine. I…fucking hell. What just happened?”

“Hey, hey,” Barbara said. “Breathe with me, okay? That was a scary situation. Breathe. In two, out three. There we go.”

The fragments and pieces of your scattered brain started to knit an image together of what just happened. As the adrenaline receded, you were able to try and come to terms with the events of that night and one thing stood out to you.

The scar on his chin.

Nightwing’s.

The same scar that you pressed a kiss to in thanks for coffee. The same scar you made sure to pepper with kisses when your boyfriend curled around you and fell asleep against your chest. The same scar that you looked up at when he pulled sweet moans out of your lungs.

“I’m going to kill him,” you hissed.

Barbara barked out a laugh. “Please make sure to film it for me.”

“Oh, I will.” You tossed your keys and pepper spray onto the table just as a shadow passed over the window of your living room. “It’s been nice meeting you, Barbara, but I have to go strangle someone.”

“I’m going to put your number in my phone and we will be getting coffee soon.” You gave her a final goodbye and then stalked towards the window. Your phone tumbled onto the plush cushions of the couch as you passed. Yanking open the window, you stuck your head out and glared at the vigilante standing on the far end of your fire escape.

“So this is why you always make an excuse to not stay the night,” you snapped. Anxiety had turned to rage real quick. Nightwing grimaced and raised his gloved hand to run his fingers through his hair. It was then that you saw the fresh blood that mottled his knuckles and you knew exactly where it came from.

“And also why I make sure you get home at night,” he added quietly. You crooked your finger at him and he complied wordlessly. His footsteps were nearly silent on the old fire escape and you took a moment to marvel at how such a muscular man was able to move so quickly and quietly.

“Is this it? Any more skeletons in your closet?” you asked.

“You know about my family, so no. No more skeletons.”

“I’m going to ask Barbara when we go and get coffee,” you breathed against his lips. Dick paled slightly before he cleared his throat.

“That’s fair.”

“Now get in here and get that suit off. I’m still mad at you but I could really do with a hug right now.”

He didn’t protest.

Tag List: @someoneimsure​ @perpetual-fangirl900​ @visagebrise​ @cursedandromedablack​ @alexxavicry​ @the-wayward-daughter​ @raging-trash-of-mind​ @bunny-kawa​ @khaylin27​

[bratzforchris]

Goldfish

Summary: Matt has a chronic illness that the nurses at his local clinic are all too familiar with. The new nurse in town hasn't had a chance to meet him yet, but what happens when she does?

Pairing: Matt x nursefem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of needles and blood, chronic illness, use of medical steroids, flirty nurse!reader (this is all fiction!), Matt is 20/reader is 23, Matt has a service dog!!

Word Count: Just over 2k

A/N: This is lowkey inspired by the experience I had a few days ago with a flirty nurse while I was in the ER (I'm still thinking about him--had me giggling n kicking my feet n shit like I was in a rom com [this is definitely a story time]). ANYWAY, Matt has PFAPA (my chronic illness!) here. It's usually a childhood thing, but some rare cases like myself don't grow out of it. You can read more about it here, if you'd like. Enjoy!!

Matt Sturniolo is all too familiar with his local pediatric emergency room. In fact, he’s been there so many times that the nurses have started to treat him as less of a patient, and more of a friend. “Hey Matt!”, “How’s YouTube going, Matt?”, “I remember you!”,  “I saw you last time!”, and the list went on. Some might ask why he still went there at almost 21, but when you had a chronic illness, it was best to see the people who had been caring for you for years if you could. These nurses had been caring for him at least once a month, ever since he was 12, and were usually quite skilled in how to manage the brunette’s comfort. 

Matt had PFAPA, which left him with high fevers and extremely sore, almost strep like sore throats every month. It was a miserable thing to live, and it really impacted his happiness, especially on days like today when he was having one of the worst flare ups he’d had in a long time and both Nick and Chris were unable to come along with him to the doctor. Luckily for Matt, he had his service dog, Emily, with him, but he still longed for a human companion as well. While some people wondered why he ‘needed’ a service dog, Matt’s disability was invisible. Emily would let him know when his flare ups were starting as well as laying on him to soothe his body aches and chills and helping with his anxiety at doctor visits. 

The nurse tech took him into the back rather quickly, running their usual tests of strep, the flu, and COVID. About 98% of the time, they would all come back negative, but the hospital staff liked to do all they could to make Matt more comfortable. Sure enough, the nurse practitioner stepped in about 30 minutes later, a sad look on her face. 

“How are you feeling, Matt?”

Matt shrugged, grimacing as his throat ached when he swallowed. “‘M not great.” he murmured, petting his pup’s head softly as the anxiety welled in his chest. 

“Well, everything came back negative,” she told, a sad look on her face. “We can test you for mono, though. You have a lot of the symptoms for that. That one is a blood test. We’re also going to give you an IV since you’re dehydrated.”

That sentence alone made him want to cry. Despite the tattoos and piercings he had, Matt hated medical needles. They hurt and they freaked him out. Sensing his anxiety, Emily scooted closer to Matt, whining softly and butting his leg with her head. Matt pet the dog’s head softly, steadying himself to get his breath. “Okay…” he breathed, steadying himself. 

The nurse practitioner patted his leg gently, hurrying out of the room to attend to her other patients. Matt began to panic, his breathing rapidly increasing as tears welled in his eyes. He didn’t want any of this. He just wanted them to tell him what was wrong so he could get some meds, go home, and sleep. Patting the bed he was laying on gently, Emily hopped up, curling into Matt’s side. The pooch rested her head on her owner’s chest, subconsciously working to slow the brunette’s heart rate. 

A few minutes later, another nurse and a lab tech stepped into the small room he was in, holding a tray full of supplies. Matt squeezed his eyes shut tightly at the sight, already dreading the feeling of getting blood drawn. Both healthcare workers were very kind, of course, whispering soft nothings to him as they patted his leg and prepared to draw his blood. They promised him that the procedure would be quick and easy, but those words never mixed well with a chronic illness. 

“Your vein rolled because you’re dehydrated. We’re going to have to draw from your other arm.” the lab tech informed him.

“O…kay.” Matt whispered shakily, trying to get his breath and the feeling in his hand back. 

The brunette knew that it was okay to cry, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing. He was a grown man, laying here in a kid’s hospital room, trying not to cry while they tried to draw his blood again in his right arm. Unfortunately for Matt, the dehydration he was experiencing from his extremely sore throat caused his vein to roll again.

“Oh sweetheart,” the nurse said sympathetically, patting his leg. “We’re going to give you a minute, okay? Let’s get some water and Gatorade in you before we try again.”

Matt just nodded as he was passed a mini water bottle and a cherry Gatorade. He was hearing their words, but honestly, he didn’t care. All he knew was that he was going to be poked and prodded again, and he didn’t like it. Emily snuggled into his side, whining softly and brushing her sandpaper tongue against her owner’s arm, trying desperately to get Matt to feel better. 

“Alright, honey,” the sweet, older nurse stepped into Matt’s room again, holding a fresh tub of supplies to draw his blood. “Let’s try it in your left hand, okay?”

Because chronic illness never made things easy, the third time was still a failure, leaving Matt with an already bruising hand and tears pricking his eyes. Before he knew it, he was being shoved a packet of goldfish crackers, a popsicle, and more water, being informed that he had to eat before they could try again. The snacks felt like swallowing shrapnel, making the boy cringe every time he had to swallow. 

“Hello, oldest patient of the day!” You cheered, practically walking into Matt’s room on a cloud of glitter. 

Matt jumped in shock, petting his dog’s head to calm his racing heart. “...hi…” he mumbled. 

“They called me in for backup,” You explained, a smile on your face. You absolutely loved nursing, and every day at your job truly felt like a gift. You’d graduated from nursing school last year at the top of your class and had been working in the pediatric emergency room ever since. It wasn’t every day that you had a patient who was 20, but you didn’t mind. “We’re getting this blood draw this time so you can get the fuck out of here,” You slapped a hand over your mouth. “Shit, I’m sorry. I hope you don’t mind if I curse.”

For the first time all day, a small giggled made its way out of Matt’s mouth. “No, I’m okay.”

“I see you have a buddy,” You commented. “That’s nice.”

“She helps my…anxiety.” Matt seemingly chose his words carefully, but they still made you smile. It was clear that the boy had a bond with his pup. 

“I’m gonna look at your tonsils first so we can get you some medicine to help you swallow and then we’ll draw your blood, okay?” You asked, wanting to make sure your patient was comfortable with everything. 

At the mention of a blood draw, Matt’s blue eyes widened with anxiety, his body becoming visibly tense. You had become in tune with this, sliding on a pair of pink latex gloves and patting the soft material of the pajama pants on his knee. 

“Hey, look at me,” You murmured softly, waiting for his response. Once Matt had looked at you, you chugged on. “We’re just chilling, okay? I’m not going to do anything yet.”

Matt nodded, letting out an anxious breath he’d been holding. “Okay.” he whispered. 

You grabbed the flashlight to look in his throat off the wall. “Alright, I’m pretty sure you know the drill,” You chuckled. “Open and say ‘ahhh!’...oh yeah, you’ve got an icky throat. That looks like it hurts. Although…did you have a blue popsicle? You’ve got blue tonsils. It’s rather endearing.”

Matt flushed, his ears going red as he nodded. You smiled softly, throwing away the cap and hanging the flashlight back on the wall. You gave the boy the steroidal liquid the nurse practitioner had drawn up for him to ease the swelling in his throat, a blush creeping onto your face as Matt scrunched his eyes up at the disgusting taste, quite literally making grabby hands for his Gatorade. 

“Fuck, that’s gross.” he whined. 

“At least you got it over with!” You hummed cheerfully, in a small aim to make him feel better. “Unfortunately, it’s time for the bad part, but we can make it a little less shitty if you want? Maybe you could play me some music? Something you like, okay?” 

Matt fiddled with his phone for a moment before landing on Dominic Fike’s latest release. You smiled at the lyrics, releasing this was one of your favorite songs at the moment. You prepped the materials needed to finally get Matt’s blood drawn for the mono test, patting his knee gently in an effort to calm his trembling frame as he rubbed his pup’s head. 

“Hey, can I tell you something?” You whispered shyly, setting him up for the procedure. “You’ve got goldfish in your teeth–it’s really cute.” You giggled, your own cheeks becoming red. 

The brunette whined, breathing deeply as you began to draw his blood. “That’s embarrassing.” he grunted. 

A few deep breaths and small, sad noises later, you had finally gotten the sample needed. “We got it!” You told Matt excitedly, placing a Barney band aid across the site. “All done!”

You bustled around the room, making sure Matt was comfortable, throwing away your supplies, and making notes on your clipboard. You helped the boy drink water and got him (and Emily) a blanket, before taking his samples down to the lab to get checked out. By the time everything was said and done, an hour had passed and Matt was asleep against the small bed when you knocked on his door. 

“Hey sleepyhead,” You giggled, stepping into the room. “Nice nap?” Matt fisted his eyes, nodding as you went over his discharge instructions. You always hated releasing patients with no explanations or answers as to why they felt so bad, but in cases like Matt’s, that wasn’t always possible. Your best bet was to make him as comfortable as possible here. “Do you have any questions?”

The brunette shook his head, finally able to speak now that the steroids were beginning to work their magic on his throat. “No, but thank you. You’ve been the best nurse I’ve had all day…maybe even ever.”

You blushed at the compliment, helping the boy stand since you knew he was already exhausted, dehydrated, and lightheaded from having his blood drawn. “Do you need help getting to your car? I actually just got off.” You murmured shyly, glancing at the clock on the wall. 

Despite Matt’s steadiness on his feet and his grip on Emily’s leash, the blue-eyed boy nodded all the same, a quietly flustered look crossing his face. You smiled yourself, maneuvering Matt out to his car with a firm, yet gentle hand on his lower back. Thankfully, the waiting room had quieted down quite a bit now that it was nearing the evening, so no one questioned or pulled you away from walking Matt out. It was a slow trek with your patient being a bit unsteady on his feet, but you didn’t mind. Matt’s presence made you happy in an odd sort of way; you hated that he wasn’t well and that this would continue to happen for him, but you couldn’t stop your mind from thinking about seeing him again. 

“I um…I hope this isn’t weird, but I would really like to see you again. Maybe another time? When you’re not in pain?” You coughed and chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. 

He smiled as he slid into the driver’s seat, rubbing his aching head that was seemingly getting better just by being around you. “I’d like that,” he offered. “I’d like that a lot, actually.”

Matt didn’t end up leaving his trip to the hospital with many answers beside the usual ‘It’s your chronic illness’, but what he did end up leaving with was your phone number scribbled onto a pink sticky note that he had been given in the parking lot. 

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[yokohamapound]

Oh hi Mark! Can I request some hcs on Dazai, Fyodor, Ranpo, Akutagawa, Tachihara and Odasaku with female reader who is a model and one day when he comes to pick her up from a shoot, she comes up to him and says they're short a model to finish a shoot with and the clothes just so happen to be his size and please won't he model with her? Just for this shoot? :D

Always love a good The Room reference! And what a perfect request for such a cavalcade of beautiful men~

Characters: Dazai Osamu, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Edogawa Ranpo, Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, Tachihara Michizou, Oda Sakunosuke

Contents: no real warnings, just Dazai throwing his ass back

Dazai Osamu

Dazai has a tendency to come to your photoshoots whenever he has free time (or even when he doesn’t but he just wants to skive off of work). Not only are you there, usually dolled up and hanging around between outfit changes and lighting set-ups, but there’s also usually a buffet table full of food he can mooch off of. He still hasn’t shut up about the crab rolls from the first shoot he attended. 

Photographers, wardrobe assistants, and make-up artists are all familiar with him by now, and just put up with his nonsense in order to work with you. And he is capable of wrapping people around his little finger when it suits him to do so. He can turn the charm on and off like a light switch. 

He does have an annoying habit of standing behind the camera and pulling exaggerated faces at you while you’re trying to maintain a pose. Don’t worry, you’re too much of a professional to break. One day, probably when he’s loitering around the buffet table or pissing off the lighting techs by doing shadow puppets against the backdrop, the photographer makes a suggestion to you—since the male model hasn’t been able to attend, why don’t you put your boyfriend to some use? 

Dazai’s tall, slim, and very good looking, so they might as well get some use out of him if he’s going to be there, right? Lucky for you, it really doesn’t take much convincing. When you ask him, Dazai seizes both of your hands, his eyes sparkling.

“About time! I knew I’d be discovered one day!” 

Dazai divas it up through hair and make-up, telling the make-up artists not to make him look too pouty. By the time you actually get his ass into the clothes and in front of the camera, everyone's a little exasperated. You don’t have the heart to scold him, though—you know he’s only really doing it for your sake…and he really does rock the clothes. 

Photographer: “Dazai-san, you don’t need to arch your back quite so much.”

Fyodor Dostoevsky

I don’t imagine Fyodor can come to your shoots very often, but when he does, he always creates a stir. A tall, pale man with black hair, violet eyes, and that bone structure! He’s like a dream for the designers, and the make-up artists are itching to get at him just to enhance those features. There’s an aura surrounding him that makes them all keep a respectful distance, though. 

No one can quite figure out who he is. They speculate that he might be a European model. A musician, with those hands? Perhaps some kind of foreign celebrity none of them will dare admit to not knowing. You never elaborate and neither does he—the speculation amuses him. 

The way he watches you gives you delicious little goosebumps whenever you’re posing for the camera, and the photographer has to call for an assistant to come and blot you with warm towels to make them disappear. 

You’re never quite sure how Fyodor feels about your job, but he’s never objected. Part of you suspects he turns up now and then to make sure that everyone remembers who you belong to, and that it would be unwise indeed to upset you or take any liberties. Just to remind them that he exists and he’s watching. 

On one particular shoot, the wardrobe assistant and the director both approach you, looking a little sheepish. The male model has come down with the flu, they explain. Do you think your boyfriend would mind stepping in just this once? Otherwise they’ll have to wrap the shoot and reschedule, costing thousands…

You tell them you can’t make any guarantees, but you’ll ask him. Fyodor watches you with an amused expression as you approach him. One of his eyebrows creeps up when you haltingly explain what the photographer wants. You’re going to have to wheedle a little to get him to agree, because Fyodor doesn’t make a habit of stepping into the public eye. Then again, how funny if one of his enemies was to see him modelling on a billboard. It’s this, and his desire to indulge you, that finally makes him agree. 

“I suppose I can step in this once,” he says, putting a finger under your chin and lifting it so you’re looking him in the eyes. “But you’ll have to make it up to me, darling.”

The make-up artist is almost vibrating with nerves as she applies a few minor touch-ups to Fyodor’s face, not that he needs much, and the photographer phrases his requests very politely. No yelling, no orders, no “Yes, baby, give me more!” Although the thought of anyone saying that to Fyodor is enough to have you in hysterics. 

Fyodor’s naturally elegant, so he can pull off the poses, get the tilt of his head just right. He always makes sure that he’s touching you in some way—hand resting on your waist, your shoulder, fingers curled loosely through your hair. It’s like he’s claiming ownership of you in every photo. 

Style-wise, I think your best bet is either for a winter photoshoot, so he can keep his ushanka, or men’s formal wear. Fyodor in a suit? Yes, please. 

Edogawa Ranpo

At first Ranpo would come along to your photoshoots due to the prevalence of snacks on the buffet table, but as time went on he tended to get bored between all the time spent touching up your make-up, fussing with your clothes, or waiting for the lighting to be arranged. He loves you, but he gets bored easily and you’re too busy to pay him much attention. 

He’ll go off and find something else that interests him or wait for you at home, usually. He does still pop up now and then if your shooting location is near to where he’s investigating a murder or if he’s got lost and just used Find My Phone on your phone and followed it to your location. (Ranpo doesn’t do this to keep track of you—it’s literally so he has a way to find you if he gets lost. It’s not like you’re really able to hide anything from him anyway…)

It’s on one of these occasions that the male model has somehow been unable to show up for the shoot, so you’re forced to rope Ranpo in. 

He folds his arms, complete with a pout. “I don’t want to.”

“Please? I’ll bake you some macarons when we get home~”

You can see his resolve starting to weaken. Macarons are one thing, but homemade macarons, still warm from the oven? He starts to loosen his arms, opening his mouth, but you hit him with your ultimate move.

“I know you’ll be so much better at it than the guy they hired, anyway~”

Ranpo visibly wavers, then he sighs. “I guess. If you’re really that much in need of my expertise, I can help you out. I’m so charitable.” He points a finger at you. “Don’t think you don’t owe me those macarons, though.”

Suitably bribed and flattered, Ranpo loses his begrudging attitude and throws himself into it, letting the make-up artists primp and pamper him. Just picture him sitting there with his head tilted back, eyes closed, a satisfied little smile on his face. He’s so fucking cute.

Ranpo’s photographs well, posing happily with you through various couple-themed set-ups. Pretending to kick puddles in the rain while sharing an umbrella. Feeding each other bites of ice-cream from a sundae (although the photographer has to tell Ranpo to stop actually eating it). Sitting on a fake beach. 

Of course, the real kicker is when he opens his eyes and reveals that gorgeous shade of green. Your modelling agency is fighting to sign him up then and there, but he breezily turns them down, telling them he doesn’t have time to do this and be the World’s Greatest Detective. 

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke

Akutagawa doesn’t want to be there. Everything from his tense posture to his folded arms to his scowl make that abundantly clear. The only reason he is there is either because you asked him to be, or because he insisted on coming along to make sure that no one tried anything with you. He’s protective, but huffy about it. 

Naturally, this makes everyone on set a little nervous, even if they don’t recognise him as one of the most dangerous members of the Port Mafia. 

Despite how unnerving his presence is, more than a few of the make-up artists have fantasised about getting him in the chair and accentuating that face of his. His stark haircut, pale face, and sharp cheekbones make him look like he just stepped off the runway for an avante-garde designer. Like someone’s goth fantasy brought to life. 

When I tell you the amount of begging you’re going to have to do to get this man to take photographs with you…

“You must be joking if you think I’m going to make a fool of myself like that.”

He absolutely won’t do it if he thinks there is any chance of someone mocking him or laughing at him. It’ll take a lot of encouragement, and he’ll be militant about not taking his coat off, until you remind him that he’ll still be wearing clothes and able to use his Special Ability if there’s any kind of attack. 

You’ll have to do his make-up. No way in hell is he letting anyone else touch his face or his hair. 

Your best bet is if this is some kind of high-concept, gothic photoshoot. Lots of dead flowers and Victorian architecture. If it suits his aesthetic and his shirt has ruffles, you’ve got a much better chance of convincing him to go through with it. He’ll bitch about the antiques being fake, and he stands as woodenly as a mannequin, a scowl on his face, but that might actually work for this kind of shoot. He makes a great model for the clothes, austere and aloof. 

Basically, he’ll only do it if both of you look like you’re about to die of consumption and he gets to see you in something ruffled. 

Tachihara Michizou

I feel like Tachihara only came to your shoot in the first place because he’s a nosy little shit and wanted to see what all the fuss was about. And because he enjoys watching people fawn over his gorgeous partner. It strokes his ego, so what?

He likes to hang around and casually menace the make-up artists, or flick through the clothes and give his opinions on them loudly. 

“Ooh, bring this one home, babe~”

Despite this, he’s pretty popular. He’s a little rough around the edges, but he does have a slight charm to him, and his comments have made you laugh mid-photo more than a few times, much to the photographer’s chagrin. 

You didn’t realise how into it he was, however, until the day you ask him to step up and take the place of a model who couldn’t make it. They don’t often bring amateurs in, but Michizou’s cocky grin and delinquent good looks will work for this shoot. 

He gets pissy when the make-up artists make him remove the bandaid from his nose, but he settles down and goes strangely quiet while they’re dabbing stuff on his face. If you poke at him, he’ll grumble that he’s just making sure they don’t stick him in the eye with something, but you know it’s actually because it feels nice. 

“Hey, what’s the name of that crap you put in my hair? Looks good.” 

The clothes are fine as long as he’s not put in anything ridiculous. He can pull off a lot of different styles, but casual streetwear suits him best. He brings out all his punk boy poses: 

Kicking a foot back against the wall. 

Crouching down with his arms resting on his knees, hands loose.

Arms folded, slouching, giving a “what you looking at, hah!?” stare over his shoulder.

At the end, he wants to know if he can keep all the clothes. 

Oda Sakunosuke

Odasaku’s an easy going man. He was reluctant the first time you invited him along to a photoshoot, thinking he’d stand out like a sore thumb, but really no one has time to worry about him being there. He was able to blend into the background like a tall, handsome, stubbly shadow. 

He enjoys people watching, and a photoshoot is like watching an army of ants circle around its queen—you, in this case. People are fussing with your hair, your make-up, adjusting the fit of the clothes, the tiniest tilt of your head. He doesn’t know how you put up with so many people plucking at you, but he’s impressed by how professionally you handle it and accede to the photographer’s wishes. 

Sometimes they mistake him for a roadie (or the photoshoot equivalent) and he finds himself being roped into moving boxes of clothes or holding up one of those lighting umbrellas. You try to intervene where you can, but he always brushes it off and tells you he’s just content to get involved. 

He never expected to be so involved that he’d be in front of the camera, though. When the photographer beckons him over one day and asks him to take the place of the male model, he’s a little stumped. Not even his Special Ability could have foreseen this. 

“You wanna take photos of me?”

Oda’s pretty humble. It takes some convincing to get him to agree, and he twitches a bit as his hair is styled and wardrobe comes over to adjust the clothes he’s wearing. It’s easy to forget he’s still Port Mafia, and understandably paranoid about strangers touching him. 

Oda’s not really a natural behind the camera. Takes a while for him to shake off the stiffness and stop squinting at the bright lights, but the fact he’s doing this with his partner makes it a little easier. 

The photographer figures out he can get the most natural smile out of him by making sure he’s looking at you in every shot, rather than the camera. 

For some reason, I think he’d look really good in an Autumn/Fall photoshoot? Sweaters, boots, heavy coats, scarves, fake snow and falling leaves. That sort of thing. This man looks like he was built to wear plaid.

[leafsbabe]

Vince Dunn - flu season

cw: discription of reader having a flu... 1.3k words

Waking up sick was never fun but at least you got sick while Vince was away on a road trip with the team far, far away from your germs. The last thing you needed was to get him sick too.

What had started with a sore throat had quickly developed into a full on flu. You felt horribly gross and in pain but at least you didn’t have to worry about work since your doctor gave you a note that excused you for two whole weeks.

The boredom was the worst of it, since everything you could think of to pass the time hurt. No phone because looking at a screen made your headache worse. No TV either since the noises made your headache worse. You couldn’t even blow your stuffy nose or cough without making your headache worse.

So napping it was.

After days of naps you expected to feel at least a little bit rested but no. Everything felt exhausting. There was nothing besides sleep, painkillers, and plain yogurt in your life. 

Your muscles ached as you fought your way out of the blanket pile you slept under. Two days ago you had mustered up the strength to swap your bedding with the guest room set in an attempt to be surrounded by less germs. Today you shuffled to your closet and changed into a different shirt for the same reason.

Just as you were debating if you should try and make your way into the kitchen your bedroom door opened, revealing your boyfriend.

The two of you just looked at each other before you spoke up at the same time.

“You look terrible. Get back into bed.”

“I thought you wouldn’t get home until Tuesdays?”

You immediately regretted speaking, your throat burning now.

“It is Tuesday.” Vince said, dropping his bag with a dull thud. “Bed. Come on.”

You went without protest, letting yourself be tucked in and hiding your face in the blankets when he attempted to feel your forehead.

Vince didn’t stop fussing over you though. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” 

“Didn’t want you to worry. You needed to focus on the games.” It felt like a silly reason but you didn’t want to distract Vince during a road trip.

“Baby…” He trailed off, one of his hands coming up to brush over your sweaty hair. “Those games aren’t as important as you.”

You wanted to protest but Vince shushed you. “I could have at least asked the boys to send one of their wives over to check in on you and make sure you’re not dying.”

Just as you wanted to reply your body betrayed you, a coughing fit wrecked your body so hard your eyes started to water from the pain.

Vince didn’t comment on it; he just brushed your hair out of your face and tucked the blankets around you tighter. Well.. it looked like you would be staying in bed for a little while longer.

“I’m going to the store real quick.” Vince decided. “I’ll only be gone a few minutes but if anything happens promise you’ll call.”

“Hmmmm.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” You mumbled or maybe slurred. You couldn’t quite tell.

It wouldn’t matter anyways because somewhere between Vince pressing a kiss to your feverish  forehead and him walking towards the door, you fell asleep.

By the time you woke up again twilight had set in. The low light coming through the window didn’t agitate your throbbing headache and you managed to get up and out of bed without the struggle you had earlier in the day.

The apartment was silent as you made your way out of the bedroom. It seemed like several hours had passed since Vince left but you couldn’t tell if he’d come back, which worried you more than the flu. You knew Vince wouldn’t just leave you alone while you were sick, that was the whole reason why you didn’t tell him about it in the first place. 

Finally you spotted light coming from the kitchen but the sight that greeted you when you went to investigate wasn’t something you expected. Vince was standing with his back to you, working on something on the stove you couldn’t see. From what you could smell —and that wasn’t very much— whatever he was cooking smelled amazing. You didn’t know Vince could cook.

“What now?” He spoke, his voice loud over the quiet noises of the boiling water. For a moment you thought he was talking to you before his mom’s voice filled the room.

“Turn the heat to low and let it simmer. It should be done in 15 to 20 minutes.”

Vince nodded and as he moved you could see his iPad propped up, his mother’s face on the screen on a video call.

“And you better set a timer because we both know you’ll just forget about it and let the soup burn.”

“Mom, that’s—”

“Don’t say anything. You know I’m right. Now show me what tea you brought.”

You watched in silence as your boyfriend picked up a bag and placed it on the counter before holding up box after box after box of tea.

“Oh dear. How many different kinds did you get?”

Vince shrugged, the muscles under his shirt moving from where you could see his back. “I dunno. Like ten?” He looked between the bag and his mother’s face on the screen, then held up two more boxes.

“The red box.” His mom decided. “Do you have a kettle?”

Vince didn’t respond for a moment, freezing up at the question. “Uh…”

“Cabinet to your left.” You decided to help him out, alerting him to your presence.

He jumped, dropping the boxes he was holding. “You’re awake.”

“You’re cooking.”

The two of you just looked at each other for a moment before he finally seemed to register that you were standing in the kitchen with him. “Why aren’t you in bed? You're sick and need to rest.”

He walked over to you and felt your forehead again. “You don’t feel as hot as before. That’s good right?”

“Feel a little better too.” Speaking still hurt a little but you’d manage for the moment. “I wanted to look for you.”

Vince smiled. “You found me. Now get back to bed. I’ll bring you some tea and some soup soon.”

You wanted to fight him just on principle but a weird shiver ran through your body. “Okay.” You conceded, turning towards the iPad and addressing his mom for the first time since you stepped into the kitchen. “Hi. Thank you for helping Vince with the cooking.”

“Of course sweetheart. Get well soon. I’m gonna log off but don’t hesitate to call if you need any more help, okay?”

Vince barely managed to get out a “Thanks mom. Love you. Bye.” before the call ended. He then turned back to you, placing his hand on the small of your back and gently steering you towards the hallway. “Come on baby. Let's get you back into bed. A little rest and we’ll get you healthy again in no time.”

You laughed a little at his attentiveness. This side of him wasn’t exactly new but it surprised you time and time again, the amount of attention he paid to every little ailment. Vince cared. A lot. “Whatever you say, Dr. Dunn.”

Vince tucked you in again, this time letting you sit against the headboard as he went back to the kitchen to finish the soup and bring it to you alongside two different mugs of tea and some medicine. Smiling, you carefully tried the hot soup as he watched, a small satisfied moan leaving your mouth at the taste. Not bad at all. When you looked at Vince he smiled down at you with a soft look in his eyes and you couldn’t help but hope for a quick recovery. The last thing you wanted to do was get him sick but you also really wanted to kiss him. Soon, you thought. You’d be back to health in no time, but until then you could be convinced to let Vince play doctor (and private chef) a little longer.

[wonijinjin]

seventeen members with a sick s/o

author’s note: wrote this because everyone seems to catch the flu going around (including myself), hope this gives you all a bit of comfort:)

synopsis: what the title says

word count: 2.2k | genre: fluff, comfort | pairings: seventeen members x gn! reader | warnings: mentions of illness, throwing up, headaches, sneezing, fevers, coughing, fainting, food, a few curse words

cheol and you had been cuddling on the couch when he noticed how warm you were in his hold and how fatigued you looked. “my love is everything alright? you feel too warm.” you didn’t have the energy in you to reply properly so you whined in response, him not needing it after he felt your cheeks. “you are burning up, let’s get you to bed, love.” he said while wrapping you in a blanket and carrying you in a princess hold back to the bedroom.

- overall he would be very attentive when it comes to your wellbeing, quickly noticing how your energy levels have changed (mans has 12 kids, he can detect these things from miles away, parental instincts)

- you are his top priority; he would be running around to get you medication and everything else you need

- bonus points for babying you and sweet talking because he knows how sensitive you get when not feeling good

hannie had always been a light sleeper, so it wasn’t a surprise when he woke up to you coughing during the night. “angel, are you okay?” he would ask, worried if you chocked on your own saliva in your dreams or if you were sick, which was the case sadly. “do you want me to stay up with you till you fall asleep? you can take cough drops in the morning.” he would offer while soothing you, and you would gladly accept.

- he is known to be playful, but he immediately becomes serious if he sees you feeling unwell

- would want to cuddle with you all day, it gives him an excuse to be lazy and rest aswell (which he needs btw, being so handsome is tiring)

- bonus points for singing a sweet melody to help you fall asleep, his giggles are so cute they would cure you in a heartbeat

joshua got a text from you saying that you were sent home because you fainted at work, so he called you in a rush. “darling what happened? did you not take care of yourself? i need to look after you more since you cannot do it yourself.” after you explained the situation to him he would be joking around a bit to lighten the mood if he knew you were alright. “wait for me, i’m on my way home with your favourite tea.” he said before hanging up, your heart warm due to knowing he was on his way.

- he would be sooo gentle, kind of being afraid of disturbing you in any way since he knew how tired you were

- you can expect all the kisses, smooches in the world from him (he says this will cure your illness faster, but in reality he just wants to kiss you continouosly)

- bonus points for getting you a new plushie since he couldn’t leave his baby without an emotional support toy if he needed to run to the store

jun knew you were sick the moment he saw you drinking a warm cup of tea; you weren’t the biggest fan of it, you preferred coffee. “dear what hurts? is it your throat?” he asked immediately, already on his way to the kitchen to make you some ginger shots which are well known to be full of vitamins. you followed him, mumbling about how you felt achy all over to which he kissed you on the forehead. “don’t worry dear, i will take care of you!”

- he is quite calm on the outside but he is freaking out on the inside for sure, being afraid of messing up something and making you feel worse

- he pulls up the chinese remedies he knows and hopes for the best, honestly a bit lost about what to do, thinks your immune system just needs enough time to recover

- bonus points for not being afraid to kiss you because you really crave physical affection and need him to cuddle with you

hoshi didn’t realise you were feeling under the weather until you actually sneezed on him, hard. “oh my god baby tiger are you okay? are you dying???” he would be shouting in a worried tone, making your ear ring so much you had to shush him to be quiet. he goes out to buy you tissues and nasal spray to help with the congestion and on the way back he would buy snacks which you would appreciate a lot.

- very scared tiger, doesn’t know how to help properly other than suggesting taking vitamins

- calls his mom for help on making soup and cooks a delicious nutritious meal for you thanks to her which he will brag about for years saying how well he took care of you

- bonus points for following your orders very well, he does everything you ask him to

wonwoo knew something was up with you when you were more clingy than usual; climbing into his lap and resting your head on his shoulder while he was gaming, heat radiating off of you. “are you tired sweetheart? you feel a bit clammy, are you coming down with something?” he would ask in a deep concerned tone to which you just nodded into his shoulder. “why don’t we get you under those warm sheets while i make you a tea, hm?” he would scoop you up gently, bringing you to the comfort of your bedsheets.

- one of the best caretakers in seventeen, he is not too suffocating but will be by your side in a heartbeat if you need anything

- would not let you do any chores; his top priority would be keeping you in bed to sleep off the virus you managed to catch

- bonus points for reading to you at night when you can’t fall asleep due to the symptoms and keeping you on his chest to calm you down

while being in his studio you decided to take a nap on the couch which was a warning sign to woozi, because you never took naps during the day, only when feeling unwell or upset. when you woke up his face welcomed you. “let me take you home, you are clearly in no condition to nap on a couch.” he would insist, picking you up and motioning you towards the door. “i will take a break aswell, on the way home we will buy you some medicine, okay?” he would assure you that you are in the best hands, letting sleep overtake you in the car.

- he is not the type to be overbearing and extremely worried, although he knows how you tend to overwork yourself, so he will make sure you don’t overdo things, but won’t forbid anything

- however, when you are asleep and he sees you in pain his heart aches so he would be quietly whispering to whoever is up in the clouds to make you feel better soon, because he can’t bare seeing you be so weak and fragile

- bonus points for tucking you in when you fall asleep and frequently checking up on you while he works

minghao found out you are sick through your friend whom he accidentally bumps into on his way home. “y/n you didn’t you tell me you were sick? stay put i will be there in a few minutes.” he would rush to your apartment, a sad smile taking place on his face when he saw you wrapped up in a blanket and surrounded by tissues on the couch. “ahw, you really got that bug, didn’t you? i know just the right ways to fasten your recovery.”

- he is very calm when he handles the situation, quickly assessing the damage done to your immune system and brainstorming ideas to solve it

- his tea-lover self will surely make you some which will taste really bitter as it is probably some chinese remedy, but you will drink it anyway, because he insists

- bonus points for cleaning up your apartment and making you dinner to have something in you while taking your meds

mingyu woke up in the middle of the night to the shuffling of the bedsheets and you telling him you just threw up. “my poor baby. you must feel horrible. let’s get you into a nice bubble bath, yeah? then while you relax a bit i will bring you a few crackers and start making a delicious soup.” he would say while wrapping you into his arms; no matter how late it was he wanted to help.

- he is basically a chef so you would have all the food you crave, or if you don’t have an appetite he would try to get something really light into your system

- he may be more whiny than you since he is very worried, but he will gladly shut up about it and talk to you about random stuff so it takes your mind off of the sickness

- bonus points for cuddling you every minute, the man is so clingy you could not escape his hold even if you wanted to

when you were watching a movie a coughing fit took over you and dk started patting your back without hesitation. “sunshine, are you sick? wait, let me get you a glass of water, okay? stay here, your new nurse and fantastic boyfriend will take care of you!” he went to the kitchen for the drink, returning with a blanket from your bedroom, draping over your half asleep, trembling form.

- this baby would be so worried he would literally start crying if he saw you get worse despite taking care of you, and would think his efforts were not enough (which is of course a lie, he is doing more than expected)

- would cancel all his practices and any meeting he has so he could take care of you, monitoring your temperature and consulting with you doctor via emails

- bonus points for making you laugh even when you feel like absolute shit with his funny and silly faces and bad jokes

when you woke up in the morning seungkwan was already all over you, asking so many questions all at once you hardly understood any of them. “did you take your vitamins last night as i told you? are you feeling better? did you take your temperature yesterday? we should take it now actually.” he would say while getting you breakfast in bed along with the thermometer.

- he would be handling you like a child and would be caring for you like a mother hen, he is just worried about you to be honest

- best at having all the medicine and vitamins you need, not just in literal meaning, but in food too; he would have so many nutritious fruits and bone broth soup for you to eat, he knows it helps restore your energy

- bonus points for letting you do whatever you want after recovering since he feels guilty about you gettng sick (even though he had nothing to do with it)

vernon stepped into the bedroom and was greeted by darkness and your form laying on the bed, curled up, shivering. “you okay there, babe?” he moved closer to you, moving the covers above you, tucking you in nicely. “do you need me to get you some tea?” he asked, brows knitted together. “you know what, i will get you some anyway.” not even waiting for your reply he disappeared into the kitchen.

- kinda malewife material, he cares about you so much and knows how bad being sick can be so he babies you (which is very rare for him to do tbh)

- a silent lover and his actions talk more than he actualy does during the period of your illness, probably does things like asking mingyu to make you some soup (boy cannot cook to save his life)

- bonus points for making you a relaxing playlist while he makes you a warm bath to loosen your muscles and clear your sinuses because he read that steam can help a lot with congestion and overall stiffness

even though he is the youngest in seventeen dino worries about you a lot, and he wants to check up on you every minute while you are unwell. “hi darling, did you take your medicine for the fever? did you sleep well? no? don’t worry i am heading home in a few minutes, my sweetheart needs me.” he would rush home to you if he sensed you missed him and would be taking care of you for weeks if needed, puffing up your pillows and buying you the most expensive tissues so it won’t hurt your nose.

- so soft when he feels needed, he would spoon feed you the porridge he makes and pat your head in bed until you fall asleep

- he just loves babying his lover, since he has received the baby treatment from his hyungs he would be pretty good at knowing ways to make you feel better quickly; like putting a cool cloth on your head

- bonus points for buying you a whole new closet of warmer clothes since he insists you keep warm after you caught a nasty cold in fall, he does not care about the price if it is about his precious baby

[hitlikehammers]

whole wide world

rating: t ♥️ cw: criminal-levels of softness, rockstar!Eddie, teacher! Steve, gooey-clingy-heart-eyes Eddie needs his Stevie ♥️ tags: established relationship, rockstar!eddie, teacher!steve, rockstar husbands, amateur musicals, steve needs to stop using a ladder unsupervised because nothing bad happened this time but eddie is concerned that is the love of his life, soul-deep love, slice of life, softness

for @steddielovemonth day thirteen: Love is showing up when someone doesn’t ask ❤️ (@steddieas-shegoes)

look who's back, just like every other day, it's the rockstar husbands from je ne regrette rien being their codependent, desperately-in-love selves again! ♥️

“Goddamnit,” Steve curses the staple gun, the dry-rotted wood he’s trying to use it on, the acrylic-covered tarp masquerading as a backdrop leaving little crackle-dust everywhere every single time it fucking falls because the wood’s shit, the staples are shit, his co-advisor’s kid’s sick with the flu, the kids are in the band room rehearsing the opening number and Steve really cannot fucking believe he got roped into this to begin with, actually, like, how the fuck did the middle school guidance-counselor-slash-study-hall-monitor get conned into helping with the high school drama club, just because one of his JV soccer players landed the lead and bemoaned loudly enough during laps how they didn’t know if they’d be able to make the performance even work, because the choir teacher’s on maternity leave and the band director’s kind of a dick, and the needed more help—

Steve only is even in the high school for the goddamn athletics office. For, y’know, the equipments for the athletes.

Yet: here he is. Standing on a rusty fucking ladder that probably needs a spotter, to be honest, and if Steve’s admitting that then yeah, it definitely needs someone holding the goddamn thing, but here he is, already two hours after the final bell, trying to stick a painting of mattressesin a stack that only vaguely looks like mattresses so thank god that’s in the show title—

The ladder wobbles a little when he tries to catch the tarp-thing again but he can’t reach far enough without risking a long way down to a very hard stage floor, so the backdrop’s sacrificed back to the ground—a-fucking-gain—as he shifts his weight to steady the steps and it’s a close thing, he’s about ninety-seven percent sure he’s aimed the teetering feet of it back to solid ground okay but he glances around quick just in case, tries to figure if there’s anything he can grab for and let the ladder go on its own if need-be, and—

“That’s fucking dangerous, big boy,” a deep, and deeply unexpected, voice trails up from the floor, clipped with stress, with fear because Steve fucking knows that voice, and the ladder’s suddenly fully steady so he can turn and look and—

“Gonna give me a goddamn stroke or something, finding you up on one of these all by your lonesome,” Eddie’s staring up at him, and the words could be teasing, and Steve thinks maybe they intend to be, but: those eyes are too big. There’s a pulse Steve can count in that throat, even from seven-feet-up.

So he does what any man in love with his husband would do in the face of said-husband in fear, and for him: Steve climbs down careful, but quick, with Eddie’s hands scrambling to make sure of the ‘careful’ part as soon as he can reach, and then he turns, and then he lands on solid ground again to pull Eddie in and thank every colleague of his he’d been cursing in his mind for leaving him alone to do all this shit, because alone is the reason he gets to kiss his lover hard, and full; wrap around him and let him squeeze Steve to the point where it aches, where it creaks in his bones, like proof.

Lets Eddie attach his lips to suck a bruise, possessive and needy and protective all at once along his throat, and yeah:

Exactly like proof.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asks when they pull apart just the slightest bit, because he wasn’t expecting Eddie to be home until probably close-on to midnight, let alone at the school well before five.

“Thought you could maybe use an extra set of hands,” Eddie shrugs like it’s a casual thing, showing up just to help out when he’s on a press cycle, and it’s evident even in his attire that that’s the case, if you know what to look for: more chains from his jeans, thicker soles on his boots just flirting with being platforms, at least two rings on every finger—save just one.

One has a ring, and a carefully-preserved and repeatedly-reinforced bread-bag tie: both serving the same purpose in very different points in their lives.

Point being: Eddie was wading through photoshoots and magazine spreads and radio spots and every fucking thing, and no matter how high he’s raising his eyebrow in a clear calling out of how he found Steve atop a shaky ladder as being obvious evidence of having use of an extra set of hands, the fact remains:

“But you’ve got the interview—“ the big ass interview with that shock-jock guy Steve kinda hates, but that’s a big fucking deal, and was the precise reason Steve wasn’t lamenting giving up his afternoon and evening to the at-least-halfway-to-lost-cause of the not-even-an-actual-full-fledged-theatre department: he wasn’t going to have Eddie home before bed anyway.

And yet: here stands the man.

“The boys have got it,” Eddie shrugs, like he actually doesn’t give a shit, and that’s…he does give a shit, he had sounded excited about it last night when they’d talked about their plans for the week over dinner, when Steve had bemoaned the travesty of this fucking production of Once Upon A Boxspring or whatever, and Eddie’d told him he was pretty sure he was going to be able to say fuck on the show even if they’d edit it, like he wouldn’t get in trouble, and he’d looked like a kid in a goddamn candy shop about it so yeah: Steve thinks he kinda did give a shit.

But he’s…not there.

“Gareth’s been itching to take the reins after he won out the final track list,” Eddie offers as explanation; “cocky bastard.”

And they collaborate on all the writing, music and lyrics, they’re not even the slightest bit competitive about it which would be hard to believe if all you saw of the members of Corroded Coffin were their goddamn shenanigans during a campaign; but the one think in their music that they docompete over?

Whose title-idea gets the opener on a given album. And Gareth did end up scooping them all when the execs came back with a shuffle. Steve had watched it unfold in real time; he doesn’t think he’s ever heard a grown man crow like Gareth had, and he is married to Edward fucking Munson.

So that’s saying something.

“Eds,” Steve tries to prod a little at the point of it all though, because Eddie’s got press, and this is a high school, and probably Eddie could get to the studio in time to catch the end of whatever, it’s prerecorded, he knows that much, they could squeeze a live interview in so they could probably do Eddie at the end and just shuffle it around, right, it’s easy, and that’s so much more important than this because this:

“Eds, it’s just a—“

“It’s the spring musical, baby,” Eddie says like he’s announcing the arrival of the president, of the Queen of England, then his eyes soften a little as he flicks at one of the real mattresses that will, presumably, be props for the actors if the show’s title isn’t a fucking lie: “you know that’s where my DM throne had its humble origins, before I elevated it to greatness?”

Steve did know that, not least because they’d smuggled Eddie in to DM a few special sessions before the gremlins graduated, and he’d taken his seat with regal aplomb every time, and Steve had learned that yeah, they used the random storage room that was mostly drama shit for Hellfire.

And the way he’d learned that was by sucking Eddie off hidden by some very ratty but very conveniently poofy ballgowns from a production of Cinderella.

“I missed you.”

Steve turns to him and blinks; Eddie’s eyes are on the mattress, his stance almost a little shy.

“You saw me this morning,” Steve doesn’t ask, exactly, but he…he’s not sure he’s following, is the thing.

“I was,” Eddie sighs, and flops to sit down on the mattress which, thankfully, is a mattress and gives a little, bounces under him.

“I was just feeling, I dunno,” he gives a shrug that fades into something like a shiver, and then Eddie’s arms come around too hug around his middle as he ducks his chin and, oh no.

None of that.

“I thought about you being, you know, you,” and Eddie gets to gesture at the mess of the stage only halfway before Steve’s catching his hand, lacing their fingers and pulling Eddie back up to standing, then back into Steve’s arms here he leans heavy, sighs deeper this time; relief instead of something shallow.

“Just you doing all this when you don’t even have a horse in the race, y’know?” Eddie muffles into the side of Steve’s neck, burrowed in tight. “And I was supposed to be in the zone about press and shit, and it just,” he shakes his head, which is more like the brush of his lips back and forth against Steve’s skin; “it wasn’t clicking at all, like I posed and did the looks and whatever,” and oh, Steve knows the looks, Steve has about half those looks printed out and framed in various parts of their home or tucked safe inside his wallet, whereas the other half he takes great joy in recreating at random to the chagrin of his darling husband, love of his whole goddamn life.

“Then Jeff asked if I wanted to duck out,” and Eddie smiles up at him, a little sheepish; they both know the boys can see right through Eddie feeling needy, or lovelorn; Steve’s grateful as shit for Eddie’s bandmates, their friends, for knowing when Eddie just needs Steve.

“I didn’t even think twice, just,” Eddie swallows hard, a little, peeking up through lashes and bangs as he exhales:

“Just wanted to see you before the middle of the fucking night.”

And what can Steve do in the face of that, really? He can’t argue it. Wouldn’t ever fucking want to.

“I love you,” he frames Eddie’s face and kiss the bridge of his nose, then soft between his brows as he breathes out with his whole heart: “so goddamn much.”

“Can you promise me you won’t do the,” Eddie tips his head behind them; “the ladder thing, at least not by yourself?” And Eddie’s eyes are so, so big again. “Like, pretty please, don’t do that again?”

“I won’t,” Steve swears it, and kisses him firm to seal the promise: “thanks for coming to the rescue.” Because there was a three percent chance Steve was going to wipe the fuck out from very very high, and he’s have survived it, but he’s not twenty anymore, and it would have fucking sucked, probably for a while.

“Always, baby,” Eddie murmurs, still tight against Steve lips before he straightens a little, and this time he’s framing Steve’s face, but more holding him still in place, emphatic:

“Actually, amendment,” he says seriously, eyes darting between Steve’s a tiny-touch frantic: “next time you need to be on a ladder, you call me first,” he damn-well declares it, rather than asks; “so I can hold it steady.”

“My hero,” Steve breathes against him with a smile, and there’s not even a hint of teasing in it.

“I don’t trust any other hands to catch you, baby,” Eddie tells him, a little too raw; full sincerity bleeding from him all the sudden as he caresses down the cheeks he’s still cupping: “no one else in the whole wide world appreciates what you’re worth.”

“And what’s that, exactly,” Steve scoffs a little, playful where he’s held in Eddie’s arms but Eddie: Eddie’s holding him tight, now, and his heartbeat’s heavy where he’s moving to crush Steve to his chest, and there’s a little wavering pitch of something in his voice when he whispers:

“The whole wide world,” and oh.

That’s the answer.

It’s Steve’s answer, too, to the same exact question, but hearing it said so plain never stops feeling like the ending and remaking of the whole wide world, every time.

So yeah, Steve has to take a minute to swallow through the tightness in his throat, and maybe he does that with his forehead bowed against his husbands so they breathe each other in as a rule just in the course of living in the moment, together—and when the straighten up Steve steals a kiss first, quick but hard, with feeling, before he cracks his neck and sighs, taking in the scene that’s settled around them.

“Help me try and figure this out to hang?” Steve kicks at the tarp-tapestry, and Eddie walks its perimeter critically before frowning up at Steve.

“Think it needs some touch ups,” he pronounces solemnly, and fuck, yeah, all the color-dust from the useless staple-holes and the falling. But his husband’s actually really good with details, and matching colors, and using a brush, and fantasy settings—

“Paint’s in the back,” he says with a lilt of suggestion and Eddie lights up and grabs Steve’s hand to drag him toward the promise of painting, like maybe all he needed really was just…this.

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

[rukkiya]

what have you done

(baizhu x reader)

tw: mentions of sickness, reader struggles with breathing

More than a week has passed and now Baizhu was starting to second guess his suspicion. He found it strange how lately he’s been feeling little to no symptoms from his underlying condition.

He’s come to realize for the past few weeks he’s been in top shape, better than before.

There have been weeks maybe sometimes months where his condition seems to have no effects on him, not causing him to be in the excruciating pain he’s constantly in, but it always comes back after a while. It never leaves him for more than two months tops so he’s growing skeptical as to what could’ve helped erase his pain for this long.

You take note of his symptoms when you walk into the pharmacy for your shift.

“Good morning Dr. Baizhu, any new prescriptions for me to work on today?” You ask as you remove your coat, making your way to your office.

“No need for the formalities dear y/n, you’ve been my assistant for two years already.” He chuckles, a genuine smile gracing his features. “Only one new prescription for one of our regulars who’ll be down to pick it up later today, I’ll help you make it shortly.” You take note of his voice, how it doesn’t sound as strained and how his shoulders don’t seem as tense.

“I’ll get started, take your time.” You send him a smile back, a sigh of relief escaping your lips seeing him look at peace, knowing he’s no longer feeling pain.

Though your moment of relief was short lived. Once you turned the corner of the hall and made your way into your office you got sent into a coughing fit. One that made it hard to breathe.

The pain that’s been building up slowly since the symptoms you received was finally taking full effect now. A few months ago you had made the decision yourself to take away baizhus illness and give it to yourself. You made sure to do it as subtle as possible, taking it piece by piece for the past few months.

You knew the repercussions and what would eventually happen to you if you did so but you did it anyway. Though it was hitting you harder than you’d imagined it would you don’t regret what you’ve done, nor will you ever tell anyone or Baizhu what you’ve done.

You had a knack for wanting to see others get better, that is why you joined the medical field at such a young age. You weren’t blessed by the archons, bestowed a vision like many great people you know, Baizhu and Qiqi included. But you did have a particular gift you were born with. No one but your family and you know of it of course.

You had the ability to take away any injury, cut, gash, wound, flu, or illness away from one person and help them recover or fully heal but the only thing was it would be placed onto you and you’d have to take over what it was that you would heal someone from. A power that your parents referred to as a double edged sword.

They discovered your power when you were only seven years old. Your younger brother had fallen and scraped his knees and was crying nonstop. You felt bad and decided to help patch him up and you put your hand over his wound to stop the small bleeding only to wince in pain as you did so.

Your mother pulled your hand away and inspected your little brother's wound to find it completely gone, no trace of it being there in the first place. Not even a scar left behind. But when she looked at you she saw a small gash upon your knee, just where you little brother had it mere seconds ago. Since then she and your father had forbidden you from using your powers for anything more serious than so. They know what lengths you’d go to just to help others so they were reluctant on letting you go into the medical field but couldn’t stopped you in the end, it’s what made you the happiest after all.

You shakily push yourself off from the door, legs slowly making their way to your desk as you feel too lightheaded to stand upright.

“How has Baizhu been dealing with this all along?” You question yourself as you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Y/n, are you sick too?” Qiqi’s small voice comes from behind you, making you jump in surprise.

“Qiqi!” You look at the small child with wide eyes, your heartbeat loud from suddenly hearing her voice when you didn’t even spot her coming in. “Ah, no sweetie. It’s not that, I’m not sick.” you laugh it off, hoping she didn’t catch you wince when you turn to her feeling your lungs squeeze.

“I’m just uhh sleepy yeah! I’m sleepy!” You smile at her, feeling bad for lying to her but you don’t want her to worry or even worse inform Baizhu of your condition.

“But you were dizzy, like you were in pain.” Qiqis eyebrows furrow making you feel worse, she’s just a kid but she notices the slightest difference in someone’s demeanor . “Y/n Is something the matter? I think I should get Mr Baizhu.” She nods her head content with her decision before you even reply to her and turns on her heels.

“Qiqi wait!” You push yourself off your desk and quietly run around her kneeling down and offering her your best convincing smile before she can open the door. “Sweetie it’s no big deal I promise. Look you can see for yourself I’m doing just fin-“

“But your hands are shaking, you’re also perspiring.” Her small hand makes contact with your forehead and the corners of her mouth turn down making your stomach sink.

Why am I lying to a child? What’s wrong with me? You feel horrible, she’s just concerned and you're lying to her face when she’s just worried about your well being.

“Qiqi listen ok, I’m sorry. I am a bit under the weather today but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’ll make sure to take things slow ok?” You slowly stand back up giving her small hand a squeeze. Taking a deep breath in to help regulate your breathing.

Her head tilts a bit, eyes narrowing as she tries to see through your lie. Something she's definitely picked up from Baizhu. Her small hand reaches for yours and she gives it a small squeeze.

“Don't overwork yourself, if your symptoms get worse i'll have no choice but to inform Mr Baizhu.” a small frown makes its way onto her mouth and you feel even more bad now.

“Sweetie don't feel like it’s your fault, I know how far I can push myself and when to stop. I really do appreciate your concern. If I feel any worse I will take my leave for the day, ok?” You give her small hand a reassuring squeeze hoping she won't say anything soon, hoping you can mask the pain that shoots through your body with every passing second.

“I have to prepare some antibiotics for a customer in a bit but tell you what, afterwards Baizhu you and I will head out for lunch! I'll buy you coconut milk and we can walk around for a bit afterwards! You can also check up on me then ok.” you see Qiqi’s eyes light up a bit and you feel relief wash over your body. A nice day spent out with them both sounded lovely , hopefully the pain wasn't as excruciating as it usually is later on.

“What’s this? Are you both making plans without me?” Baizhu’s voice comes from behind you, making you jump from where you stood.

“Baizhu! Were you standing there the whole time?!” you ask, feeling your heart drop a bit worried that he heard everything.

“My my, do I seem like someone who'd do such a thing?” he laughs making your frown deepen only making him laugh a bit harder.

“What little trust you have in me dear, we've known each other for far too long, have some faith in me.” he chuckles, stepping in smiling at the sight of you holding qiqi’s hand. His heart squeeze’s in a way he hasn't felt in so long, not one due to pain. Seeing you two puts him at ease makes his worry fade.

“I was just telling Qiqi how I wanted to treat you both to lunch later, after our customer pick’s up their prescription of course!” you clear your throat, hoping he didn't see the look of worry you wore thinking he heard you're sick.

“That sounds lovely y/n, only thing is it'll be my treat. You both deserve it. You both have been working very hard as of late and I need to show my deep appreciation to my two dear helpers now don't I?.”

“Wait that's not fair though I-”

“Ahahah,” he tuts taking slow steps to where Qiqi and you stood. “No need to argue ok.” he smiles down at you both, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I just want to treat you both, I'm just glad you are both still here with me, that we're all here together.” his eyes soften and you feel your heart rate pick up. He looks at peace.

“Baizhu has been feeling better as of late.” Changsheng hisses and Baizhu clears his throat making you and Qiqi laugh.

You knew exactly what Changsheng was talking about but didn't press further. You know exactly why he is and you're happy that he's not in pain, that's how you always want to see him.

“Now Qiqi, please do me a favor and run the front desk for me. Y/n and I have to work on a prescription, we’ll be done in a bit ok?” Baizhu kneels down, hand gently laying upon the small girl's head to which she gives a small nod and wastes no time walking out.

Baizhu sigh’s and stands back up to close the door behind her.

“Now shall we get started?” He chirps turning back to you with a closed eyed smile.

You only nod, walking to your desk to get the herbs and vial’s to mix for the antibiotics you need to finish.

“What’s the patient's diagnosis again?” You ask, bending down my the medicine cabinet in the corner of your room.

“Acute bronchitis.” He hums, leaning on the side of your desk watching your every move.

“Ah ok, so the medication calls for-“

Baizhu pushes himself off as he sees you kneel down, legs slightly shaking as you do so.

“Y/n stand back up for me.” Baizhus voice sounds much closer now making you almost drop the herbs you held in your hands.

“Baizhu-“

You turn to face him and the pain in your chest spikes up from moving too fast. The burn in your lungs and the tightness on your esophagus made your eyes burn in no time.

Your hold on the herbs slips from your hands as you clutch your chest, gasping for air now.

The vials never hit the floor. Before they did Baizhu quickly caught hold of them quickly reaching for you seconds after before your legs could give out.

“Y/n? What’s wrong?” Baizhu asks, concern evident in his tone.

“They’re sick.” Changsheng hisses as he slowly kneels to the floor with you.

“N-no im-“ a coughing fit came up seconds after making you clutch your already sore throat. You nod your head frantically at Changshengs accusation.

“Arms up dear, if you can't breathe don't freak out it’ll only make matters worse you know that!” Baizhu gently grabs hold of your arms and lifts them above your head making your eyes widen.

It felt as if it made things worse, you were getting scared. It was getting too hard to breathe let alone concentrate.

“Y/n! No don’t- ah look! Look at me-“ Baizhu’s hands were on both sides of your face getting you to look him in the eyes.

His golden like eyes stare at you with concern as he nods his head in assurance. “I’m here, you’re ok, just breath ok breath with me come on.” He inhales and you try only to feel your throat close up again but Baizhu urges you. His hand rubbing soothing circles on your back while his other one keeps one of your hands over your head.

Again, he inhales and you did so along with him, then a slow and steady exhale and you shakily do the same.

“Good, good, calm down with me, you're ok.” He offers a small smile though he still looks worried.

“I told you, when they walked in today I sensed it.” Changsheng peeks down from Baizhus shoulder, eyes narrowing at you.

“This sickness seems awfully familiar.” The snake comes closer and you feel as if they’re both too close, seeing into you.

“Y/n are you sick? How long has this been going on for?!” Baizhu grabs your wrist, placing two fingers on your wrist to check your racing pulse.

“Not too long.” You inhale sharply, feeling a stabbing sensation on your right lung making you hunch.

“Nono, dear stay up you know you have to.” Baizhus hand rubs your back, straightening your spine as you close your eyes and nod your head.

“Sorry, sorry I know I’ll be fine in a minute.” You exhale, a small laugh coming out hoping to ease the worry that was evident in his eyes.

“Y/n, I’m serious. When did you-“

Another coughing fit comes up making your hands cover your mouth and Baizhu feels his thoughts come to a halt when he sees a dark red substance seep through the cracks between your fingers.

“Baizhu this seems…..awfully familiar.” Changsheng whispers to the already worried man, making him come to a realization that he never thought was possible.

Did they get my sickness? But it isn’t contagious, how would this be? Baizhu thinks to himself, moving your hand from your mouth and placing his handkerchief over your lips wiping excess blood.

“This can't be…” Baizhu whispers and Changsheng slithers up closer to you.

“They’re hiding something Baizhu.” The snake slithers off of Baizhu’s shoulders and onto your lap.

You look at the snake then at baizhu whose eyes are boring into yours, trying to figure out how exactly your conditions seem awfully familiar to the one he has, to the one he had.

“Baizhu it’s nothing.” You give him a small smile, breathing somewhat evening out as you reach your hand to his gently grabbing the handkerchief.

“I just caught a cold, but now your handkerchief is ruined you didn't need to-“

“Did you know?” He whispers, connecting the dots in his head and he fears something he never thought would happen. He truly thought he hid it well, that no one knew except for Changsheng, but how did you get it?

“Know what? Baizhu I don’t understand-“

“This sickness isn’t just a cold or flu, it’s a rare disease that affects very little of the population. This isn’t something that could be contracted.” He reaches for his stethoscope and holds his breath.

“Y/n who have you been around recntl-“

His voice fell upon deaf ears, all you could hear was your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

“Y/n….y/n?” His eyes look back up to meet yours and he drops the stethoscope from his hold.

You look scared, afraid, guilty. Like a deer caught in headlights, like a child caught doing something they weren’t supposed to.

“Did you know about what I had?” His voice comes out small, almost sounding like he was on the brink of tears.

“I-I just…” your vision gets blurred at the look of horror written on his features.

“I couldn’t bare seeing you smile when you were in so much pain, I just wanted to help…. l-let you live freely without hiding something that was tearing you apart, I want to help you like you have helped so many others.” You stutter, voice cracking as you see his eyes brim with unsead tears. His hands reaching for your shaking ones.

He feels time slow down, sees your lips moving but his ears go deaf just as yours had earlier. He never thought you knew. He thought he had his it so well but he was wrong.

He’s always fooled people. Made them belive he was ok, nothing was wrong with him, he was never sick. When deep down he was the one sufferening pain far worse than any of his patients and he never got rest from it. Instead he held his head up high, masked his pain with a smile and people bought it, he thought you had too.

A long life wasn’t something Baizhu had ever seen for himself but when he had greedy thoughts he though of living the rest of his life with none other than Qiqi and you in perfectly harmony, but he knew that wasn’t how the real world was.

But when he had started feeling better a few months back he had hope, a small sliver but some nonetheless. Maybe someday his wish would come true and he could tell you what he’s really felt for so long.

So why are you sick now? Why are you suffering with the same mind numbing, painful sickness he once had? Why you? Not You. This can't be. He thought he hid it so well from you. But the real question that has been running over and over in his head is one he has a hard time saying but he just wants to know, if you knew about his sickness, what lengths have you gone to do this to yourself? How did you do this?

He feels his own hands shake. Even though his sickness is no longer affecting him he feels pain in his heart far worse than any pains he's felt from his illness.

Now it was his breathing that had become uneven. Shaky hands reach for your face to get you to look him in the eye as he tries his best to not let his voice waver.

This can't be real, his thumbs trace the curve of your cheekbones, your skin feels hot to the touch but the sweat on your forehead shows signs of chills. Why has this happened to you of all people? “Y/n.” He calls your name, barely above whisper, his breath hitching when your glossy eyes meet his. He thinks he knows what’s happened, but he just wants to hear you say it. “What have you done?”

_________________

authors note: hello lovelies!\( * ́꒳`*)/ FINALLY WROTE FOR BAIZHU DUUDAISU this has been in my mind FOR AO LONG! This was one i was very excited to write bc pretty dendro healer deserves more attention!! he’s also coming out soon so kind of an early celebration for that hehe! I hope you all enjoy this one left it off on a cliffhanger kind of idk but I had to for the affect heshhshsh SORRY- but! reminder to drink water, eat yummy foods and most importantly stay safe! ^~^<3 (also this isn’t proofread so sorry for any errors!)

[paddockbunny]

Hey! Could you maybe write Either Lando/Charles smut with 2&5. like Max walks in and he‘s the resders Brother and it‘s embarrassing and stuff. Maybe its like soft Sex if you know what i mean? Like all Gentle and stuff as Max walks in and is like: What the fuck! That‘s my Sister! Maybe could you do it like they were having a secret relationship? If you don‘t like the Idea or can‘t write it bc i am really bad at explaining, that‘s fine don‘t worry. Hope you have a great Day/Night!

“That’s my sister”

Summary: You didn’t mean to fall for Lando Norris- your brothers opponent - and what started as just sex quickly turned into a lot, lot more….but what happens when your brother Max finds out? Rating: 18+. Pairing : Lando Norris x Reader (Max Verstappen’s younger sister). Word Count : 3,869. Trigger Warnings : 18+, NSFW, adult material, adult language, PinV sex mention, sneaking around, J*s Verstappen, angry family situation, angsty vibes. 💞 Authors Note : Im so sorry this isn’t the best work I’ve put out but I am choked full of the cold and convinced I have the flu I’m feeling so bad rn. Anyway, I’ll put the “read more” thing in when I can because I know that annoys some people.

His loud groan flowed into your ear as lazily his hips jerked a few more times till he was totally spent. His breathing was just as crazed and erratic as yours. The mutual high that electrified both of your bodies was by now addictive and you weren’t sure you could quit it even if your life depended upon it. Lando’s forehead pressed against yours momentarily, still trying to catch his breath, before he pulled back and glared down at you. He drank you in. Wanting to savour the look on your face as much as you did with his. Until finally, he gave you what you wanted. He kissed you. His lips pressed firmly against yours and the action distracted you from him pulling out.

Your eyes followed him as he rolled off of you and lay on his back, a smirk dancing playfully across his mouth turned into a somewhat boastful smile when he saw that you were still watching him. He didn’t need to ask if you were satisfied, the fact you had just been breathily moaning his name repeatedly for the past few minutes as he edged you closer and closer to an orgasm told him that already.

The pair of you stayed like that for a while. Just simply laying there side by side, not saying anything at all, just listening to each other as breathing became less of a task and returned to normal. You knew you had to move, get redressed and return back to your hotel, and yet there was nothing in the world you wanted to do less. You wished you could stay here for the night. In Lando’s arms, perhaps having a round two (or three) and then falling asleep curled up together but that wasn’t possible. Instead you took a deep breath and slipped out from under the covers. “Already?” He asked sounding a little melancholy. You couldn’t find words as you looked for your disregarded underwear so only nodded. He sat up, resting his head on the headboard and watched you while you began to get redressed. You didn’t want to look at him. You didn’t want to see his face tinged with something that resembled sadness or worse, annoyance. “Are you leaving tomorrow? After the race?” “Uh…” you pulled your bra up your arms, situated your boobs and and reached around to clasp it around your back. “Yeah, I think so. Seven I think.” You shrug knowing exactly what was about to come out of Lando’s mouth. “Do you have to? Can you stay another day? Fly home with me on Monday night?” “Lando….” His name rolled off your tongue with a sad frustrated sound. You had been here before. He did this all the time. He always attempted to guilt trip you into staying, with him, longer than you actually could. “And what do I tell Max? Huh? Why I want to stay here another day?” You sighed and found your jeans. Shoving your feet into them before yanking them up and over your ass while he watched. Silently.

By the time you had put all of your clothes back on, gone to the bathroom and made yourself look presentable again, Lando had come up with a response to the little problem of your brother.

“Why don’t we just tell him?” You couldn’t hold back your sarcastic sounding laugh. “I’m serious.” “Because he will cut your balls off, publicly.” Lando knew you were right. He knew Max would have destroyed him, especially as he had warned him several times not to even think about you or look in your direction because you were off limits to him.

“Fuck!” He let out a frustrated, piss off expletive and banged his head back on the headboard he had been resting it against. The thing was, you weren’t ready to tell your brother yet and it wasn’t because you were scared of how he would react. It was because it made you and Lando official. And by being official with Lando you would become a target for his fans just like his ex-girlfriend had been. But it would be worse because you were a Verstappen and so you’d have your older brothers army coming after you as well. So if you were being completely truthful, you didn’t know if you’d ever be ready to be “out” with Lando. But right now, you hated leaving him like this. So pent up and frustrated, not at you but at the situation. You glanced at him as you checked your bag to make sure you hadn’t left anything and your heart pinged in your chest. He was so fucking handsome and you always had to play a war between your heart and your head when it came to him.

“I’ll see you next weekend.” You sat, pausing for a tender moment right beside him on the hotel bed that the pair of you had just made love in. He sat up right and pressed his forehead against yours.

“I love you. That’s why this whole thing is…” Of all the things you had expected him to say that was not one of them. He hadn’t told you he loved you before so it was all you could focus on. Three stupidly small words that you couldn’t remember ever hearing from another before let alone a guy. And you realised you had frozen when you felt his hand brush tenderly over your cheek as a wave of guilt hit you because you weren’t sure if you could repeat the words back to him just yet. “Lan….” You breathed out his name but he shushed you immediately. “Just because I’ve said it doesn’t mean you have to say it back, not yet. I just wanted you to know.” Your stomach flipped that he knew you better than you knew yourself and then when he kissed you you felt like you were suddenly underwater. You tried but you couldn’t quite place the emotions that were wracking through.

“See you next week?” He asked against your lips and you nodded. “See you next week.” You repeated back to him before taking a deep breath and raising from the bed.

When you closed his hotel room door and headed down the corridor you realised you were broadly smiling. Lando just said he loved you.

He loves you.

And you love him. You just needed to summon the strength to admit it.

But it posed one monumentally large challenge to you. How the hell do you tell your brother?!

One week later

Max had been wittering on about something still bothering him from yesterdays press interviews the whole car ride to the track. You added in the occasional “uh huh” and “yes, Max” to satisfy him but your mind was elsewhere. It was firmly fixated on the back and forth rapid texting going on between you and Lando the past few days. Particularly last nights texts, because those were emblazoned in your mind. They started off innocently enough until Lando outed the fact he had just gotten out of the shower and he was having a especially hard time since the excitement of seeing you soon hit him. And then the inevitable happened and the pair of you had FaceTime sex. And now, as much as it disgusted you as you sat in the car with your brother, you had to cross your legs to try and stem the uncomfortable palpitations going on at the apex of your thighs.

Thankfully, you managed to escape Max as soon as the pair of you arrived in the paddock. Media grabbed him almost immediately (much to his annoyance) meaning you were free to go grab a nice ice cold glass of water to try aid how hot you had gotten from the memories of last nights dirty escapades. As you walked toward the Red Bull hospitality suite you made sure to flash a smile at some of the familiar TV reporters that always seemed to ride your brothers dick. The phoney hello and wave only made you mutter a “fucking prick” under your breath even more. And you were just about safe. Moments from being home free and ascend the stairs to get that much needed drink of water when you saw Lando across the way leaving the McLaren camp with his race suit tied low around his waist. Your mouth salivated at the mere look of him dressed in his race suit. You paused for a second in pure admiration mode until he looked over and caught you staring. If you hadn’t just remembered the thought of his face as he came while getting off to you over video call, you’d have been embarrassed about staring but right now you smirked and looked at him up and down. You watched and Lando tried not to laugh at your response then said something to his media girls before heading over toward you. Your mind went into pure panic mode momentarily as you glanced around to check that Max (nor anyone else that could have gotten you into trouble) would see. Thankfully, everyone seemed far too busy to be bothered.

“See something you like?” Lando grinned cheekily. “You have no idea how much….” You purred right back and he rolled his tongue side to side to stop himself from getting as excited as he did last night. But then he flashed his eyes around and you watched as his jaw clenched as if he was trying to think of anything but you naked. You were just about to tease him further by telling him how hot and bothered you were seeing him with his race suit around his waist and that your panties were growing wetter by the second but he spoke first.

“Are you coming over tonight? I can’t stop thinking about you.” Fuck. He always managed to set you on fire and as you became convinced you were blushing he had accomplished that job. “I can’t tonight. My dad’s flying in and wants to have a family dinner with Max and I.” You rolled your eyes. The thought of sitting at an awkward dinner while your father spoke mainly of racing to Max and ignored you completely, pained you but you didn’t want to tell Lando that. He groaned lowly and rolled his head back dramatically which made you snigger at him. And as he opened his mouth to say something else - no doubt rude and implying you were giving him blue balls - your name was loudly shouted across the paddock.

“Fuck!” You groaned and followed it up with a sigh. “He’s heading over.” Lando stated and although you figured it was better that he left and avoided any sort of conversation with Max in that moment, Lando stayed put.

“What’s going on?” Max eyed the pair of you suspiciously. “Trying to make a move of her again Norris?” You gritted your teeth through sheer embarrassment. Max had consistently played the role of the overprotective older brother since, well, forever. Ever since the dawned on him that his baby sister was something of a stone cold fox Max went into overdrive with the scaring off any and all potential interested males role. Which was exactly why you had to sneak around behind his back. I mean, he would have an absolute coronary if he knew you and Lando had secretly been hooking up (and become a thing) for months. “Perhaps it’s me making a move on him, Max.” You sassed him back and Max just glared at you without a single shred of amusement in his face.

“I’m just going to leave before I get in the middle of a Verstappen V Verstappen fight. I’ll see you around, y/n.” Lando bowed out of the awkwardness of the situation Max had caused but not before he made sure to send you a knowing smug look. And now that you were utterly frustrated with your brother you turned to continue your earlier task and fetch an ice cold glass of water.

Unfortunately for you, Max happened to follow you. “What did he mean by that?” He asked as you reached one of the fridges that sat in the hospitality suite - which was usually full of solely Red Bull but had a secret stash of bottled water down on the bottom shelf behind the branding - and took out a bottle. “Mean by what?” You played dumb. “When he said he would see you later?” “It’s a turn of phrase, Max.” You rolled your eyes, hoping he would buy it. When you turned to him and finally looked at his face you could see the familiar pissed off look that he always had when it came to the thought of you and any guy. It was one that reminded you of your father and that was certainly something you didn’t like. Nervously you swallowed because you knew what was coming. “I don’t like the thought of him getting friendly with you. Norris. He’s not….he’s too immature, to childish for you not to mention a fucking driver and fancies himself as a player.” And there it was. The reason it was so hard for you to tell Max about your budding romance with Lando and the exact reason you had been sneaking about behind his back.

Your leg bounced anxiously under the table. Not because you were nervous but because you were desperate for this fucking shit show of a family dinner to end. You could see it in Max’s face that he wanted to be anywhere but currently sat in the expensive restaurant and you probably mimicked it in your own too, but your father continued. As suspected he spoke about racing the whole time. He sat and went over all of the things Max needed to improve on to win this weekend and you could see the pressure getting more and more piled on your brother by the minute. However, you were almost thankful your father was paying you no attention as it meant you could continue texting Lando under the table and zone out of the awkwardness of the evening altogether. Lando sent you a few funny memes when you complained of being bored and wanting nothing less than a meteorite to come smashing down to earth to get you out of the restaurant. He sent you a photo of his sad face and then another of his empty bed with a stick figure drawn on it that was supposed to be you. You chuckled at that one which you had to cover up with a fake cough.

“Everything ok?” Your dad glanced at you and you nodded. But then it dawned on you this was a perfect way to escape. You could fake illness. Your dad would be so paranoid that you might get Max sick that he would order you to go back to your hotel room and stay away from your brother so not to ruin his chances this week. Max would probably be miffed with you for doing it because it left him alone dealing with Dad but it was a price you were willing to pay to relinquish you from the hell you were currently in. You coughed again and grabbed your water. It was a little over the top and dramatic but you clutched at your throat and rubbed your glands to plant the seed.

“What’s wrong with you?” Once again, your dad glanced in your direction. “I don’t know. I’ve feel a bit yuk all day. I have a sore throat and this funny cough.” Max lowered his head and looked at you with a furrowed brow. He was on to you all most immediately. “Why didn’t you say earlier?” You shrugged at your Dad’s question. “You shouldn’t have come. You could have passed whatever you have on to Max!” He exclaimed.

“I think I should go back to the hotel. Get an early night. It’s probably nothing but I agree, I don’t want to get Maxy sick.” Your eyes darted toward your brother who had a face full of thunder. Your Dad agreed with you and made a hand gesture to hurry your departure up. You heard him tutting as you got up and grabbed your bag. You knew he was about to call you selfish or stupid for endangering Max’s race this weekend but you couldn’t give a fuck. You were out of that room as fast as your feet could carry you and your fingers could text Lando to tell him you were free. As you expected, Lando text you back almost immediately and you laughed loudly when he suggested he sneak into your hotel.

It wasn’t until you walked through the lobby of the Red Bull team hotel and were accosted around the middle by a pair of arms that you realised he was completely serious. A shriek escaped you till you heard Lando saying;

“Shhh, it’s me!” In your ear. You seriously thought he was joking when you initially text him and hadn’t for one single moment thought he was serious. You snapped around and found him with his hood up and hat on, practically trying to disguise himself in an opposing team hotel. “How are you…” You couldn’t even get the words out to ask him how he was even here in the hotel of the competition. “Told them I was meeting with Horner.” He was still pressed up against you, you could feel his body heat radiating off of him and you about lost your mind. Well in fact, you did loose your mind because suddenly you found your mouth on his. Your lips grazed across his but it was Lando that deepened it by running his tongue across your bottom lip and begging you to allow him in. As you did and his tongue collided with yours his hands gripped your body tighter, holding you even closer to himself. But then, as you were utterly lost in the moment, your name was practically shouted across the hotel lobby.

Snapping back, ripping your lips away from Lando’s, you looked straight to the sound of the voice and met your brothers eyes. His face was one of shock and utter pure horror. And suddenly your heart pounded mercilessly in your chest and panic began to ravish your body as he crossed the floor thunderously. You were frozen. Utterly and completely frozen. You had never disappointed him before and this was way beyond disappointment. You’re breath caught in your throat and just before he reached the pair of you you tore yourself off of Lando and stepped away from him toward a Max with your hands stretched out. You saw the slightly manic look in his eyes and you were genuinely concerned. You had seen him angry before but this was a whole other level that reminded you of your father and that terrified you.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” He roared, by passing you completely and promptly gave Lando a very firm shove backwards. “THATS MY SISTER!” He yelled.

“Max!” You tried to pull him back as he pushed Lando again. “WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” He continued and by this point he was causing a scene and the hotel were very obviously calling team security. “Max please, calm down.” You tried to order him but his head snapped to you and his look was one that warned you to stop. As he raised his hands to push Lando again you grabbed hold of him and ducked in between them.

“I love him, Max.” You said it so plainly. “I love him.” You repeated and you realised you hadn’t even said it to Lando yet and here you were telling Max this before him. You hoped that in that moment you declared your love for his fellow driver but also one of his competitors that he saw the expression all over your face and comprehended it as genuine. That you were completely and utterly telling the truth.

An eternity seemed to pass. Silence falling between the three of you. Max stared at you as if you would burst into flames any moment and it killed you seeing him so furious with you because you were so incredibly close as siblings. You felt tears begin to sting your eyes. Then as you thought things were about to go nowhere and this Mexican stand off would continue Max held out a room key to you.

“You forgot this.” He stated bluntly and tentatively you took it from him. Then without a single shred of warning he took off toward the elevators and you turned at breakneck speed around to Lando. Flinging your arms around him and tipping hold of him tightly you felt the sudden, built up tension release from your body. “This might not be the moment but…did you mean it? Do you love me?” You looked into his beautiful, captivating green eyes and nodded. “Max will come round.” “I don’t know, Lando. I know what he’s like and how stubborn he will be. I’ve disappointed him by lying to him, I don’t know how we’ll recover from this.”

Six Weeks Later

“Will you just stop staring at them like that! It’s becoming creepy!” Max’s girlfriend groaned as she noticed how Max had not stopped staring at you and Lando walking hand in hand through the paddock. “Besides, look at her, she’s glowing.” “I fucking hate this.” He gritted his teeth together when he finally attempted to look away but found himself looking back at them again. It was like he was rubbernecking on his sisters new relationship.

“I thought you were coming round to it? You said she seemed happy just last night.” Max had said that. He had said it as he was about to get into bed and had a horrible wave of guilt wash over him about the situation. He saw them together yesterday on media day and they seemed so suited. As much as it killed him to admit it he couldn’t help but think how good they looked with each other. Which meant he now felt like was the worst big brother ever. He had probably overreacted to seeing them kissing in the lobby of the hotel a few weeks ago, and he wasn’t sure she would ever forgive him for that. But now as he watched you throw your head back in riotous laughter as Lando’s face was filled with adoration, he knew he had to accept you had chosen one of his opponents as the man to make you happy.

“I did. I do. But that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.” He sighed frustratingly. There was nothing he had said in the six weeks since he found out that he hadn’t already said. He went through all the stages of being angry, hurt and pure denial in short succession. However now, as he observed Lando slipping his hand into yours he accepted he needed to concede defeat and acknowledge that his baby sister was indeed in love with Lando Norris.

“Just go and talk to her. Settle it. Please.” His girlfriends voice seemed like the voice of reason because Max missed you and hated not talking to you. “She might not even want to talk to me….” He sighed heavily because this had been weighing on him all this time and he simply missed her baby sister. “I will…” Max conceded “but not here, not in front of cameras.” He knew he would probably have to grovel and you wouldn’t make accepting his apology easy but he was willing to try because he loved you and that was that. He simply loved you.

[icedcoffeedisaster]

Ask from @shortstrawberry that I accidentally deleted because tumblr hates me. So sorry!

I feel especially bad because that was the first ask I received 😔

Either way, I hope you enjoy! And feel free to sneak back into my askbox if you want

Just A Cold

Donna x MC (Reader)

Summary: You caught the flu and haven't been to the shop in two days. Donna is concerned and comes to check on you

It was quiet. Too quiet. The shop had been almost empty for the past two days with just Donna to tend to the duties. Luckily, not many people had swung by apart from Cassandra, making her record appearance of three times in one day for three girls she was desperate to avoid the wrath of.

Golden rays of light cast through the pristine windows of the shop as the silence of the day persisted, her phone laying quietly on the side with no messages since the one two days ago informing her you weren't feeling great. Donna was set on coming to care for you, but you had insisted it was just a cold and that you'd be fine for work the following day.

She stared at her unanswered messages, the 'delivered' status haunting her thoughts even when she was trying to continue her work earlier. It wasn't like you to get this sick, what if something had happened to you? What if you weren't OK?

She was going to come see you, and make sure you were OK. You were her everything, so why should you recover alone?

Her movements determined, Donna set about closing up the shop and the mess from earlier. In her distracted state, she had dropped a plant pot full of soil, successfully coating her smock and gloves in dirt. It also ended up with a streak on her face when she wiped her brow unknowingly.

With the lock turned and the closed sign up, Donna got in her car and drove above the speed limit to reach you.

/ / / / / /

You felt like death. Probably looked like it too.

You felt the cold sweat coating your skin and forcing your clothes and hair to stick to your body. It was uncomfortable in all the worst kinds of ways, and you were desperately trying to warm up under the copious amounts of blankets and comforters that you had wrapped yourself in. Your body was aching. Every movement felt like you were being chained down, and yet there was no position that granted you respite. Breathing itself was a struggle, an effort to get a decent amount of air in. The mountain of blankets probably didn't help here, but you were too tired to care

It was hell. And the one angel of your life was out of reach as your phone had become lost in the sea of blankets that you dare not search in. Long since dead, the charger had been stolen by none other than Angie on the night you two and Dani had gone drinking. Those fireball shots would be the death of you.

A gentle knock interuppted your train of thought as you cast a weary glance towards the door, sceptical. It knocked again, slightly louder.

"Dolcezza, may I come in?"

A smile etched its way onto your features, yet all you could muster was a cough when you attempted an answer. To your luck, the door opened, and light was cast into the dark cave of your room. Donna shut the door behind her before rushing to your bedside, the back of her hand immediately against your forehead as she frowns, eyes meeting yours.

"This isn't just a cold, mia cara. Come, let me help you."

Her voice was gentle, yet firm. Something told you she wasn't going to accept no as an answer.

Strong arms wrapped themselves around you and pulled you up, dragging you close to her as she helped you stand. Shivers wracked your body as you held onto her, burying your face in her neck with a whine in an attempt to get closer. A gentle squeeze and whispered encouragements warmed your heart and soul as Donna moved you to the living room, dragging a spare blanket behind her, which she draped over you once you were settled on the couch.

With a regretful smile, Donna detached herself from you, her hand coming up to cup your face as she kissed your forehead before moving away.

The smell of something cooking drifted over from the kitchen shortly after, where a pot of something sat on the oven with Donna stood by it, lips pursed in concentration. Her smock lay folded on another counter with her gloves on top, leaving her in her work shirt with the cuffs folded to just above the elbow. You turned to get a better view, content to just watch as she worked in content silence.

You were pulled from your thoughts by Donna moving towards you, two bowls of soup in hand as she sat beside you. Her own bowl she placed on the table in favour of helping you eat yours, her smile growing wider as she saw how much you enjoyed it.

Nothing could beat Donna's cooking.

It took a while, but the pair of you were finished, bowls neatly stacked on the table. Whether or not they'll make it to the kitchen is another question.

Warm, slender fingers traced patterns on your back as you leant against her, snuggling as close as possible in your confined space. You lay curled against her, her arms around your middle and legs intertwined under the blankets. A comfortable silence lay over the pair of you until she spoke.

"Why didn't you tell me, love? You worried me." Donna's eyes met yours, a furrow in her brow.

You hesitated before answering, voice scratchy from the illness.

"I didn't want you to worry, I just didn't think it would be this bad. I would have come in today, but i didn't want you to get sick either"

"I know. But don't leave me in the dark next time. I will always be here for you, dolcezza, you know this. You're mine, and I won't have you facing this alone"

A smile broke out on your face as you pulled her closer, relaxing against her as you felt the tension melt out of your body. You stay like that for a while, with Donna rubbing your back and eventually moving her hand to the back of your head, where she ran her fingers through your hair before she spoke again.

"Rest love, I've got you"

And for the first time in two days, you drift off to a peaceful sleep.

[axcel-lucci]

Since this month is Halloween and Law's birthday, how about Wereleopard Law x Human Female Reader. Its like a werewolf, except Law transforms into a snow wereleopard on a full moon or during their heat. Nobody but his close friends know about this, not even the reader. Law has been cursed since he's 10. How would female reader reacts to this? Also, Law's in his heat during the transformation, and doesn't want to hurt reader. You can make it spicy and love making. 😋😊

Full moon

Wereleopard!Trafalgar Law x human!reader

A/n: I FORGOT TO POST THIS IM SO SORRY

Next part ==>

My masterlist

"Aiyahhh... another full moon next week." (Y/n) sighed in a pleasing manner.

She always loved the full moon, it looks very pretty in the night sky, doesn't it?

Though she doesn't like it when she has to sleep in the spare bedroom while it does.

"Full... moon..." Law, her husband for at least a year and a half, grumbled. Thinking deeply to himself

"What's wrong... law? And also, you never told me why you make me sleep in the spare bedroom. Hmph" she huffed and crossed her arms.

"It's just..." he groaned, "it's nothing... I'm tired, let's go to sleep." He said as he stood up on the couch and went upstairs

She sighed to herself. Law was a man of secrets, that's for sure, but she doesn't mind that. People have secrets they would rather keep.

But when she asked his friends about it, his really close friends since childhood, Shachi, penguin, and Bepo just tells her it's something he needs to do. For some reason, THEY know.

"This is honestly upsetting" she frowned as she got up to their shared bedroom to change and go to sleep in her side of the bed.

In the middle of the night, she always feels him reach into her just to hug her close and bury his face in her hair, no matter what happens, he always does. Almost caging her body with his so tightly it feels so hot with his body temperature. It would've been lovely if it was a chilly night, but the middle of summer for fucks sake.

In the end though, temperature didn't matter, he just felt at home with her. She didn't mind because it has become a ritual everyday. Even if he comes home at early morning or really late at night. It always ends up with him cuddling her like his personal, human-sized, teddy bear.

But this particular night though, he felt more... warmer than he usually would, like he's taking care of a fever he refuses to let go. At the same time though, he seems fine. Just the temperature.

She just sighed and made a mental note to check him in the morning for any flu or fever.

The next morning, she found him still cuddling her tightly, but now nibbling on her neck in his sleep while groaning a bit.

It wasn't a light nibble, no. It literally left multiple marks. She wondered how she wasn't able to wake up with deep blemishing marks on her exposed neck and shoulder.

"Law..." she yawned and faced him only for him to nibble on the other side of her neck as well. "Law." She called more firmly as he slowly woke up

"Huh..? Hm- what?" He muttered, mind still unorganized by the cradled sleepiness in his brain

"You look so cute today" she giggled and kissed him as he hummed

"Aren't I always...?" He grumbled in his deep morning voice and a mischievous grin

She laughed at that, "of course you are."

Timeskip...

It's now 6 pm, and the moon has settled into its full moon state and it's just so beautiful. Like a sun in the night.

(Y/n) heard Law arrive back home when she heard his car pull up the driveway and his usual groan as he gets out and comes into the house with a "I'm home" in a low manner

"How was work, sweetie?" She asked but he didn't answer.

His cheeks seemed to burn as he rushed up the stairs to their bedroom

He's always like this almost every time it's the full moon. It makes her mad. And she's going to find out why tonight, no matter what.

She locked the door and rushed up after him.

He unfortunately forgot to lock the door as he entered.

He could've feel himself lose control and his mind swirling to never ending chaos, his eyes shifting from every possible surface until he blacks out entirely.

Before (y/n) could enter their room, she heard a loud crash from the inside making her rush in with panic.

She panicked even more when she saw him laying on the floor, clutching his head.

It's dark, sure, but the moon illuminated the room through the curtains.

(Y/n) could see a faint outline of... fur? No, an animal... if it must.

But she could still hear and feel Law's presence within this creature so she rushed to him and wake him up.

"Law...!" She yelled as she tried to touch him only to gasp when he looked at her with gold glowing eyes and a cat like pupil that seemed to narrow before being tackled to the ground

"What...?!" She gasped when the creature licked her cheek

"(Y/n)..." Law muttered as he lowered himself to rest against her body and his head against her chest, looking up at her with an apologetic look, "I didn't mean to scare you... I'm... sorry"

"Law? Is that..." she muttered as she reached a hand for the nearby desk lamp and opened the light slightly.

There she saw him, in his wereleopard form. White with black patches of dots on his fur. His eyes still gold from his human form but has a cat like pupil that seemed to narrow.

"You..."

"I know... I know... I should've told you, I'm sorry. It's just... I don't want you to leave me. More importantly, I don't want to hurt you." He explained before turning to a smaller form like a size of an adult jaguar and curling up with his head buried in her thigh so that he doesn't have to look at her.

"Is this why you wanted me to sleep at the spare bedroom every full moon...?" She asked, he nodded silently.

She sighed deeply before brushing his surprisingly soft fur.

"This is... cute. Honestly" she smiled as Law looked at her and transformed to his original form before pining her against the cold floor

"You're not... scared?" He asks

"Why? I know you would never harm me... and I know you've tried your best not to." She smiled before placing her hands on his cheeks and rubbed them like you would to a cat.

Hearing and feeling him vibrate purrs weren't on her bucket list but it definitely is now.

"Oh you're so cute." She smiled as he laid his heavy body against her

"I'm glad" he smiled and hugged her tightly.

Him being heavy was an understatement, before she could even say anything about it, he bit her shoulder out of nowhere.

Oddly enough, it sent spikes of pleasure down her spine and into her now wet entrance.

"L-law...!" She gasped with a moan once he started to lick the mark he made.

"I'm sorry, (y/n). I couldn't control myself... you see, um... this is embarrassing... but every full moon... I transform... it also lines up with my uhm... heat." He muttered and hid his face from embarrassment against her neck.

"Your... heat? I guess animals and humans aren't so different you've definitely switched me on" she moaned slightly in his ear as it twitched

"Oh yeah?" He smirked before turning to his semi-human form.

It was just Law with his fluffy ears and tail, and kept his wereleopard's size.

"I wonder..." he hummed before suddenly plunging his hand under the waistband of her shorts and panties under her clothes.

"Law...!" She gasped again as he pushed in two fingers and started to thrust them in and out of her, making muffled wet sounds as she gasped and moaned.

"Oh my, so wet..." she smiled before basically ripped her clothes off with his summoned claws.

'really like a cat' the last thing she thought before her brain was turned to mush by Law eating her out aggressively.

Him being in heat was so much more aggressive than he usually is as she yelled when he threw her on the bed.

"Tell me if I hurt you, alright? I'll stop if it hurts you" he says as she nodded.

His tail basically wrapped on her legs tightly by itself to pull her legs apart.

"Law..." she looked at him as he took off all his clothing and crawled over her.

Shadow casted all over him, leaving only his gold eyes to shine and stare through her soul.

It would've scared her in a different context but right now, it made her even more wet.

And he could smell it.

"Right now, you're my mate." He smirked deviously before pulling her other leg unto his shoulder and kissed the inside of her thighs, "and all you have to do is moan and whine for me. Now be a good girl, alright?"

She nods before moaning when he rubbed his thumb against her aroused bud, "what was that, mate? I didn't hear you"

"Y-yes...! Please..."

He couldn't control himself at that moment, foreplay would do next time he's in full control but right now, his mind was set on fucking her so hard she wouldn't be able to think of anything.

With one hand, he rubbed the tip of his shaft against her wet entrance, a small thing made her moan. But she screamed in pleasure once he pushed inside her in one thrust.

He was a bit bigger than his human form is. Though "a bit" is an understatement.

A Bulge formed against her abdomen once he was settled inside her.

The walls inside her clenched and sucked him inside, it was warm and he likes it.

He softly pushed the bulge against her making her moan ecstatically and throw her head back.

That's when all remaining self control snapped like twigs in the wind.

He couldn't remember how fast he went or how many times he made her cum or even how many times he himself came deeply inside her.

All he knew that it was a lot as it started to leak around him while he was still inside.

He wasn't aware of how long it had been but it must've been hours. Judging by the sun peaking through the window, it must've been the whole night.

She was tired and spent by the end of it all.

He slowly pulled out causing her to shiver and moan before calming down and breathing heavily.

"So pretty..." he muttered

But he knew this wouldn't be the last of his heat. He knew it would last days of fucking to get rid of it entirely.

And he knows (y/n) would be able to handle it.

While she rested, he laid beside her while looking at her. Observing every single bit of her beautiful complexity.

He could see his seed still leaking out of her, it made him proud to have fucked his babies inside of her.

Whether it'll get her pregnant will be future him's problem.

[eldritch-spouse]

[Agner was needing a brush up so I figured I'd make a semi-intro to possibly the only normal guy around here.]

What happens when you mix and mash five bobbles?

That's right, insanity.

Or, more accurately, a very stressed Patches trying to fix an unknowable situation.

Bobbles are simple, predictable creatures. It's what makes them so easy to manage usually, so mechanical to develop and replace.

Although one thing he's come to notice along time is that, sometimes, a rudimentary creation doesn't have the limiters complex organisms like most people have. A bobble can't catch the flu, a bobble can't bleed out, a bobble can sprout a number of deformities that make it develop such fascinating abilities!

That's why Patches didn't immediately think to put down the creature that formed out of five developing bobble tubes being knocked together. He's learned to be less reckless since then, yes- But he couldn't resist the urge to find where that accident would lead.

Agner did not have a smooth start in life.

His first memory was of staring down at his own puddling body and knowing that something was deeply wrong but not understanding what.

Then, it was the core-shaking sensation of splitting apart and ceasing to exist altogether as all five bobbles fought for control.

He doesn't remember much from those days. Just the fear mostly.

And consistently waking up in Patches' laboratory miraculously put together after each soul-rattling split.

He likes to joke that, after losing his mind so many times, Agner really had no choice but to become sane.

And just about the only reliable guy in the premises, honestly.

How come in a place so rotten, full of broken people whose priorities are in the worst of places, he had to be the normal one?

Anger has accepted that he's as much a part of The Clergy as all the other bobbles are. He's a barman when there's need for it, a carry mule, a waiter, a jack of all trades really.

But what he swore he'd never be, is a victim of The Clergy's Eye.

He would never be purposely vile, he wouldn't derive pleasure off the misery of others, he wouldn't hurt, harass or torture.

Agner could have turned out exactly like the people he works with on a daily basis, unloading his frustrations recklessly and selfishly, for satisfaction that seldom ever lasts. But why? Why see his existence as something hopeless that he needs to make everyone's problem? Sure, he could split apart and simply never become cohesive again, marking the end of his life, but it's miraculous enough he's lived this far.

Agner figures he should just be happy he gets to exist and see the little things, the beauty in the details. If he can help someone else while he's at it, then he's just giving more meaning to the time he spends on this planet. All he wants is to be a person, really. To have as normal of an experience alive an amalgamation like him can hope to.

Indeed, a giant softie who unfortunately works in a very dark place and sometimes has to protect himself.

But perhaps a hidden lifeline for someone caged in the depths of the establishment and desperate enough to cling to anyone.

Agner is no saint, and he knows he's limited in what he can do make your life less stressful, but he can try.

He can try to make you happy.

[writingseaslugs]

Heartslabyul: When They're Sick

So my best friend and I had been discussing what the boys would be like if we had to take care of them while sick…and this happened. Hope you enjoy! Also please keep in mind this series and the one right after was written literally MONTHS ago, and that includes authors notes at the start.

Disclaimer: All characters in this series are aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please click the “Au Information” below!

Request Information | Masterlist | Au Information

Heartslabyul: When They’re Sick

It was that beautiful time of year when the world was getting colder and everyone and their mother was getting the flu. Sadly, when it came to Heartslabyul, the flu ran rampant. With all their tea parties and chores, everyone worked closely together. This meant that if one person got sick, the rest of the dorm was going to be following close behind.

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle actually gets sick more often than most think, he’s just good at treating it the moment it happens. He’s almost always stressed with his studies or running his dorm, so it’s not odd to think that he gets sick pretty often. Normally he’s just a slight cold that can be treated with over the counter medicine, and it’s rare that it’s ever anything more.

As per usual Riddle style, asking for help isn’t something he’s very fond of. However, even he knows his limits so when you notice him looking like he’s on death’s door and ask him if you can take care of him, he’ll reluctantly agree. He’s a good patient for the most part, but he will be criticizing some of your methods since he does have a background with medicine due to his parents.

The only hard part with Riddle is getting him to take medication that isn’t in a pill form. It’s no secret he prefers sweeter things, so he’ll be grimacing when you show him the disgusting liquid in the cup. He might even insist that he doesn’t need it knowing full well he does. Get Trey to work his magic and make it taste less vile and he’ll down it in one go.

When it comes down to what he eats when he’s sick, he’s very picky. It has to have all the correct nutritional value. He probably had a cookbook of things that are acceptable for you to make him while he’s on the mend. If you can’t cook then you best grab someone who can, because not a single one of these recipes are simple. They do seem to be amazing for healing someone though, so it’s worth a shot at making him some.

Once he’s all better he might be a bit more bashful around you for a while. You did just see him at his most vulnerable…well one of the times he was most vulnerable. He’s going to be thanking you, and promising if you ever find yourself in a similar situation, he’ll make sure you’re well cared for.

Trey Clover

It’s a bit harder to know if Trey is actually sick; he’s the oldest of his siblings and therefore was the one who always had to act like he was fine. When the flu swept through his home every year, he’d be the one taking care of everyone despite being sick himself. So when he’s sick he’ll just carry on as though it’s nothing and hope for the best. Not to say he won’t relax though if it gets bad, but it had to actually be bad for him to care about it.

He’s going to try and assure you that he’s fine despite the horrible wet cough he has going on, but if you insist even a little bit then he’ll give in and let you take care of him. It’s nice to have someone actually being the one to care for him since normally he’s by himself. He’ll make sure to express his gratitude while being spoiled by you.

Unlike some of his dorm members, he’s fine with gross tasting medicine. He swears he doesn’t even use magic to make it taste palatable…but you figure otherwise. Even while sick he’ll have that mischievous smirk and try to trick you, which normally means he’s starting to feel better.

He’s happy with whatever you make him to eat while he’s sick. He prefers things that are more bland while he’s feeling ill, but he’ll take something with a lot of spices as well to help unclog his sinuses. He’ll take whatever, as long as it’s not sweets. He knows the importance of eating correctly when sick, and can’t be coerced into eating a slice of pie for his mental well being.

Once he’s better he’s going to be thanking you a lot. Expect a delicious tart to be delivered to your dorm the moment he can move freely again without wanting to faint. He’s another one who’s promising you the sun and moon that if you ever get sick, he’ll make sure to take care of you.

Cater Diamond

Cater can be a bit dramatic when he’s not feeling well. In fact, you’ll probably be finding out through social media that he’s sick before you even see him. Probably captioning a post of “If only there was a nice nurse who’d come and save me from my misery”. It’s a hint, to whom though…well nobody other than you knows. Because it’s you. He’s hinting that you should take care of him since you’re one of the few people at Night Raven that don’t have another agenda and would care for him just because you’re his friend.

As soon as you knock on his door, the floodgates are opening. Cater hates feeling sick and anything but energetic, so being sick absolutely sucked for him. He’s going to be happy you’re there, but also asking if you’re sure about helping him since he doesn't want to make you sick. He’s conflicted to the max about you helping, but just give him some assurance that you’re fine and want to make him feel better.

He’s one of the best in the dorm when it comes to taking medication. Unlike Trey and Riddle, he doesn’t care much about the taste. He’ll down it in one go like he’s taking a shot of liquor and be done with it. He doesn’t put up a fuss and is overall a very easy patient, but he’s going to be asking for you to stay with him until he’s all better. Be prepared to grab a chair and drag it over to his bedside because he doesn’t want to be left alone.

Only time you really get to leave him is to go to the restroom and grab him something to eat. He’s simple when he’s sick, grab him some chicken noodle soup and call it a day. He doesn’t care if it’s from a can or homemade, as long as he has some he swears he’ll recover in no time. He even says it's more like a magical potion than actual food.

You’re probably going to be waking up with a fully recovered Cater hoping about. He’s always recovered fast from being sick, and this is no different. Just a little bit of rest and medicine and he’ll be ready for anything. Expect to be showered in affection the moment he can, thanking you over and over again and telling you that you’re the best nurse to ever exist.

Ace Trappola

Ace is one of the more dramatic members of NRC when he’s sick, but he’s going to be more whiny if anything. He hates the fact that he can’t do what he wants, but he also isn’t going to turn down the fact that this means he doesn’t have to go to class. It’s a win-lose situation for him really. If he is sick for more than three days though he will be regretting life and would rather be in class than dealing with this icky feeling.

If you offer him help then you just signed up to be his full time maid while he’s on the mend. Be expecting him to text you when he’s hungry or needs more water. He’s a huge baby, and will be teasing you the entire time. The good news is when the fever hits its peak his personality takes a dramatic turn. He becomes significantly more honest and is thanking you, even going so far to hold your hand and playing with it, letting you know he appreciates you helping him. When he’s no longer sick you best never mention this though, he’ll deny it since he can’t remember his fever induced haze.

He doesn’t like taking medicine, at all. He can down it in one go, sure, but he still hates it. He especially hates medicine that makes you drowsy since he despises the sedated feeling that takes over him. So if you’re going to be giving him medicine, make sure it won’t make him sleepy. If he gets that drowsy feeling where his mind can’t think straight and it’s not just from the fever, he’s going to be mad and refuse to take anything else.

He won’t turn down anything you make him, honestly. He’ll happily eat anything you bring him, even if it’s just something from the cafeteria. Just be careful if Grim comes with you, because the little cat is going to be trying to snag food off of Ace’s plate. The good news is if they begin arguing, you know Ace is starting to feel better.

The moment he’s better he is out of bed, ready to take on the world. He refuses to stay another minute in his shared dorm room, wanting to get out and cause some trouble. Of course he’ll be thanking you, but also saying that if you ever get sick, count him out of helping. He saw all the shit you had to put up with when taking care of him, and he’d rather not deal with that himself. At least he thanked you though…right?

Deuce Spade

Deuce is a mama’s boy, and whenever he got sick his mother would be the one to figure it out right away. This meant he was used to being taken care of the moment he got even the slightest of colds. Half the time he wouldn’t even realize he was getting sick, and since it was caught so early it was over before it even began. Sadly coming to Night Raven meant when he got sick and he didn’t realize it, it got bad and fast.

He’s the one reaching out for help before you even know he’s sick. Messaging you and informing you of his situation, asking if you could bring over some medicine and soup. He’s not asking to be babied, but he doubted his dorm mates would be much help. His best bet was Trey when it came to being taken care of, and he was too weak to leave the bed and inform his Vice Dorm Leader that he was in need of help.

When it comes to taking medicine, he dislikes it, but does it anyway without much fuss. He would always remember his mom’s disappointed face when he didn’t take medication as a child and learned how to just down it. Don’t be surprised if you hear him mumbling “Around the teeth, through the gums, watch out guts, here it comes.” Before drinking the meds. He’s going to be pounding a water bottle after it though to get the sickening taste out of his mouth.

Deuce will take anything you hand him while sick and be thanking you the entire time. He’ll even insist you eat with him and move over on his bed to have you sit down with your bowl of soup. He gets a bit more talkative despite his throat being sore, so tell him that he needs to rest after eating something. If you want huge brownie points, grab his phone and call his mom to find out what she puts in her lentil soup that she always makes when Deuce is sick. The boy will be crying tears of happiness the moment the first spoonful hits his tongue.

Deuce is a bit slower on recovering, and will take a few days to be back to his normal energy levels. After the first two days though you don’t have to worry about playing nurse anymore, it’s mainly just the after effects. He is thanking you though and expect a present to be in your mailbox when he is better. Mama Spade did teach her son to always thank people properly, so you’ll have a handwritten letter that’s barely legible and some snacks along with it.