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#why is the COLD medicine not working for my COLD
harryslittlefreakk · 20 hours
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kiss it better
summary: when y/n doesn’t show up to work, harry takes her care into his own hands. ceorry x PA y/n
warnings: mentions of illness and vomiting! just plain fluff other than that
wordcount: a little over 2k
a/n: in honour of me being gravely ill 😀 this is probably not very good lol whatevs!!!! i wanted to write and fluff was calling my name
masterlist
Harry glanced at his watch, frowning as he realised something was off. You were always punctual, always greeting him with a smile and a steaming cup of coffee before he even stepped into his office. But there was no sign of you. His desk was a little too tidy in the absence of your swirling handwriting on sticky notes and files. It smelled musky without the sweet coconut of your perfume to counter the dominance of his aftershave.
He set his briefcase down, pulling out his phone to dial your number. He knew he shouldn’t call you, that whatever kept you from work was obviously important, but he needed to know. The phone rang into Harry’s ear a few times before going to voicemail, his brows knitting as he left his office in search of an explanation for your absence.
He didn’t have to wait long to find out, an email pinging through to his phone almost as soon as he opened his mouth to ask where you were.
Without thinking twice, Harry grabbed his coat and headed for the door, his heart thudding with concern, for reasons that he couldn’t quite place. You never missed work. You were always so reliable, pushing yourself even when you shouldn’t, even when Harry told you not to. If he was in the office, you were too, always leaving later than him and getting in earlier.
He stopped by a small deli as he left the office, ringing his mum in the middle of the fresh produce aisle to get her family-favourite soup recipe. Some fresh bread, vegetables, milk and teabags, medicines and ginger shots.
Harry was carried by some sort of unseen force, a desire to be the hero for a day. It wasn’t until he reached your building’s main entrance that he thought to question what he was doing.
He hadn’t even told anyone he was leaving - his briefcase was still sat on his chair, his work untouched. He was skipping on his own company to show up at your door laden with supplies like he was close enough to you to be your caretaker. He shook his head gently, his out-stretched finger reaching for your buzzer before he even made his mind up on whether to stay or go.
He was at your front door a few minutes later, the groceries hanging limply in his hand as he took in your appearance, his features softening as his eyes trailed over your face. Your usually bright skin was dull and pale, your brown eyes outlined by reds and purples, the tip of your nose tinted pink, your lips dry and cracked.
“Harry? What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice thick and hoarse.
You pulled your cardigan tighter around your waist, wishing the building would just collapse around you, a stray meteor would strike you down, anything to not be standing in front of your boss in your skimpy pyjamas while he looked at you like you were a wounded puppy.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”
You shrugged, stepping back into your door as Harry moved towards you. “I didn’t want to bother you. It’s just a cold.”
“Bother me?” He shook his head, stepping around you and pulling the door closed behind him. “You’re never a bother, y/n. I was worried.”
Before you could protest, he was already moving into your small kitchen, setting the groceries on the counter. “I bought supplies. Have you had any medicine? You go sit down and I’ll bring you some over. Tea, coffee, water?”
You looked around in a daze, your gaze flitting between the front door and Harry as your brain struggled to catch up. Medicine, supplies, tea, sick, worried. His words were buzzing around your clouded mind, your brows knitted as you stepped towards him.
“Harry, you don’t have to-” you started, but he shot you a pointed look over his shoulder. You knew that face all too well. It was the ‘I’m in charge here, and we both know it’ look that you’d seen him giving to clients and staff countless times over the past year, usually followed by a smirk in your direction.
“Sit. That’s an order,” he said with a hint of a smile. “I’ll take care of everything.”
You sighed but obeyed, shuffling over to the sofa and sinking into the cushions. You knew better than to argue, especially with the way your body was aching after only walking to the door and back.
“I’ve had medicine already,” you told Harry, nodding your head towards the packet on the coffee table. He padded over, reaching for the pills with a satisfied smile.
“Good girl. Where are your mugs?”
Good girl. You pressed the back of your hand to your cheek, knowing instantly that you were burning up and it had nothing to do with the flu.
“Top cupboard on the left,” you muttered, your voice tiny as Harry stared down at you.
You’d found yourself in a dangerous game. It was hard enough to control yourself around Harry in the office with your wits about you, but with him in your home, apparently intent on taking care of you, calling you a good girl, you were almost ready to plan the wedding.
“Oh no.”
A sudden wave of nausea washed over you, your eyes glued to the floor as you scrambled to your feet, rushing past Harry as if he wouldn’t notice if you went fast enough. You barely made it to the toilet before the nausea overwhelmed you, your body heaving.
Within seconds, Harry was behind you. He knelt down, one hand gently pulling your hair back from your face while the other rubbed over your shoulders. “I’ve got you,” he murmured softly.
Now you really wished someone would smite you down. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, both from the force of being sick and the embarrassment of having Harry see you like this. You tried to apologise, but another wave hit, cutting you off.
“You’re okay,” Harry whispered, his hand never stopping its gentle motion on your back.
You slumped back against the wall, exhausted. Harry stood up to wet your flannel, crouching in front of you to dab at your forehead and cheeks, his touch tender and careful, as if you might break.
The ridiculousness of it all almost made you laugh. There he was, in his thousand pound suit, his curls perfectly styled, wiping the sick from your face as you poured like a child in your Barbie pyjamas. And it was only 11am. There was plenty of time for things to get even worse for you.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice hoarse and weak. “That was mortifying.”
“Hey, none of that,” Harry said firmly, but his eyes were soft as he studied your face. “You’ve taken care of every one of my needs for a year. You’re sick, I’m not going anywhere.”
He pulled you to your feet, keeping a tight hold of your hand as he guided you back to the sofa, fluffing your cushions before you sank down.
You closed your eyes, your body aching with fatigue and the lingering embarrassment of being so messy and vulnerable in front of your boss.
As if he could read your mind, Harry sat down beside you, his arm wrapping tightly around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “I’ve got you,” he murmured again, his voice ghosting over the top of your head. “Just rest. I’m not leaving.”
You let out a shuddering breath, the warmth of his body against yours easing some of the lingering chills. Slowly, the tension began to drain away, the exhaustion tugging at you. You turned slightly, pressing your face into his chest, the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek.
He shifted, carefully adjusting his position so you could lie more comfortably against him. His fingers stroked through your hair, chills shooting straight down your spine.
“You’re okay,” Harry whispered, his lips brushing against your hair. “I’m right here.”
When you didn’t respond, Harry stayed still, holding you close, his heart aching at how fragile you suddenly seemed to him. He would keep you safe, he promised to himself.
You were still glued to Harry’s side when you woke, although he’d clearly been busy while you were out cold.
His blazer was slung over a chair, his shirt sleeves rolled up as they always were after a few hours of work. His arm was still tight around you, his free hand dancing across the keyboard of his laptop as he stared and muttered at the screen.
Your lips curled into a little smile with the realisation that he’d been up and about while you slept but had still come back to cuddle you. Your hand instinctively flew to your mouth, covering your smirk before Harry noticed just how happy you were to wake up at his side.
His eyes snapped over to you, his eyes crinkling as his mouth stretched into a grin. “Morning, sunshine,” he teased, setting his laptop to the side.
A gasp fell from your lips as you looked beyond him for the first time since you opened your eyes, realising how little light was left. “It’s nearly dark, Harry. How long was I out?”
“A while,” he shrugged. “It’s a good thing. Your body heals while you sleep.”
You pulled away from him to sit up straight, suddenly conscious of the wet patch on his shirt, his tattoos stark against the translucent fabric. “I kept you hostage here for hours while I drooled all over you.”
“I’ll forward you my dry cleaning bill,” he smirked, peering down at the mark. “I don’t mind, really. I had Tony bring my bits over,” Harry shrugged, nodding towards his laptop. “I got quite a lot done. Maybe we should work from home more often.”
“I won’t be making a habit of chucking my guts up in front of you and drooling all over you,” you whispered, your cheeks blazing hot.
“Glad to hear it, sweetheart. How are you feeling? Do you fancy eating?”
You nodded, running a hand through your wild hair. You didn’t even want to imagine what you looked like. It was becoming increasingly more apparent that you’d have to change your name and flee the country the second Harry left you alone.
But as he padded away from you, you listened to him bustling around your kitchen, the familiar clink of plates and cutlery, it felt all too comforting and all too normal.
Harry came back with a tray, a steaming bowl of soup, some toast, and a cup of tea balanced on top, a tea towel thrown over his arm. He set it down carefully on the coffee table, then sat beside you, watching as you guided a spoonful of soup past your lips.
“This is really good,” you murmured, surprised at how the warmth seemed to spread through you, easing the ache in her throat.
“Glad you like it,” he said, looking pleased. “My mums recipe. I’m half convinced your head could fall off and that soup would manage to cure it.”
You managed to eat most of the soup, under Harry’s watchful gaze. When you finished, he cleaned up quickly, then returned with a fresh cup of tea for you both and a blanket.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” you said softly as he draped the blanket over you.
He gave you a gentle smile, pulling your legs onto his lap. “I wanted to. You take care of me. Let me take care of you for once.”
The energy shifted in the room, the atmosphere clouded with something unspoken. You rubbed a finger over your lips, your gaze lingering on Harry as he traced patterns over your skin.
He glanced over at his laptop, pushing the screen closed. “Alright, I think we’ve earned a movie,” he said, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “What’s your favourite?”
You shrugged, turning your attention to the tv. “I always watch Harry Potter when I’m sick.”
He laughed softly, shaking his head. “Barbie pyjamas and Harry Potter. Maybe I don’t know everything about you.”
“Simple pleasures,” you shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.
As the movie played, the sky gradually darkened, the light from the screen casting soft shadows across the room. You’d pulled your legs from Harry’s lap at some point, sinking into the sofa beside him as you sipped at your tea. He kept his eyes on you as you put the mug back down, then without a word, he gently wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer.
You hesitated for a moment before relaxing against him, your head resting on his shoulder. It felt more natural earlier, when you were still dazed and cloudy and overwhelmed with embarrassment. It still felt right, comforting and familiar, but you were so much more aware of your proximity now. Still, when Harry’s hand began to rub slow, soothing circles on your arm, you melted into him.
You glanced up at him after a minute, catching his profile in the flickering light. His eyes were focused on the screen, but there was a softness to his expression, a tenderness that made your heart flutter.
He must have sensed your gaze, because he looked down at you, his eyes locking with yours. For just a moment, the movie, the room, the soft pounding of your head all faded away.
Harry’s hand stilled on your arm, his fingers lingering as if unsure of what they wanted to do next. Then, slowly, he reached up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your flushed skin.
“Y/n..” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. There was something in his eyes, something vulnerable and almost hesitant, as if he were seeking permission.
Your breath caught, your heart quickening. You pushed your head against his touch, just the slightest movement, your eyes never leaving his.
That was all the encouragement Harry needed. Leaning in slowly, he pressed his lips to yours, the kiss so soft and gentle it was almost like the ghost of a breath against your skin. His hand moved to cradle the back of your head, his touch careful, still so gentle as if he was scared he’d break you.
But his kisses were sweet, unhurried, and full of something you couldn’t put into words. He kissed you like he was savouring every moment, like he thought it might be the only time he’d ever feel your lips against his. You felt your whole body surrender to him, enveloped in the warmth and care of his touch.
“You’re going to get sick,” you whispered when he pulled back, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip.
He leaned in again, pressing another soft kiss to your lips, then one to your temple, his arms tightening around you as you buried your head in his chest. “I think I’ve spent enough time in your company to end up catching your germs anyway. At least I got to do that,” Harry murmured, smoothing a hand over your hair.
You stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the movie forgotten. The world outside didn’t matter, the weight of how shitty you felt didn’t matter, the impending infection you’d passed to Harry didn’t matter. In the quiet shadows of the evening, you snuggled closer, feeling his heart beat steadily against you, and for the first time in a long while, you felt truly content.
“Stay with me?” you murmured, her voice barely audible.
“Of course,” he promised, his lips brushing over your hair.
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theygender · 2 years
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Why is it called a "common cold" when this is the worst hell I've experienced in my life. My nose and throat are burning like I snorted chili powder and gargled wasabi. My head feels like someone is inflating it with a tire pump and it's pushing all my brains out through my nose. This is worse than when I've had COVID, strep, flu, or pneumonia. What kind of hell are they putting in colds these days
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uncanny-tranny · 10 months
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Another thing that I've learned as I have undertaken my craft is just how satisfying it is to use what you make - to have known that you made it. Even now as I make my big project, the fabric is big enough that it's warming my lap up as I make it - even that is satisfying.
People want to make an effort - even small ones. What people don't like is pseudowork - bullshit jobs. Honestly, it's partly tragic to think about, partly infuriating.
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syxnewt · 4 months
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my parents want my little brother, who has had a fever no lower than 100 F for the past 2-3 days, to go to school tomorrow
#status update#i'm gonna try and tell them why that's stupid#they took him to the doctor but the doc just said he had a cold#well I'm concerned with how badly his body is fighting it off!!!#plus they didn't give him any medicine all day#i gave him some before I left for work and after I got home#his fever is still 102#i don't understand their thought process whatsoever#like yeah school is imoortant but so is#A: not spreading illness!!!!!!#B: actually being able to focus in class because you feel good and not like shit#he even said that he'll probably be sent home anyway BECAUSE HE'S SICK#the issue I think is mainly he doesn't have a lot of symptoms#he said his throat felt “gummy” which no one - not even himself - can make heads or tails of#his stomach hurts and he threw up pretty recently#and his vision dimmed a few times but my mom doesn't really believe that one#I tried looking up the symptoms but it just said “eat a turkey sandwich” so thanks for that google#I don't know#i'm just worried about him#and I think it's stupid my parents want him to go to school when even by their standards he has such a bad fever#by the standards bit I mean they consider 100 F to be “low grade” even though 104 is danger territory#and that's just a hop skip and a jump away#AND ALSO HE IS LITERALLY ON THE PRECIPICE OF THAT RIGHT NOW#AND THEY DIDNT GIVE HIM ANY TYLENOL#he was home all day what did they even do#they also didn't give him medicine yesterday until I got home from my ap test#OKAY I'm done ranting I'll be here all night if I keep it up
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nexus-nebulae · 3 months
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god sometimes i wish the whole "you wouldn't say/do that to a physically disabled person" lie that certain mentally ill people say was true bc i fucking WISH i could use "I'm in a wheelchair" as a gotcha for people being ableist against me. unfortunately,
#so my psych that I'm dropping the SECOND i get a new (better) one#like that whole facility. they DO have telehealth/video appointments#but they fucking?????? make the PATIENT DRIVE TO THE BUILDING FOR THE APPOINTMENT#WHILE THE DOCTOR IS AT FUCKING HOME. WHY THE HELL DO I HAVE TO GO INTO HER OFFICE WHEN SHE'S NOT EVEN THERE?????#like it's actually fucking ridiculous AND they NEVER get interpreters when requested AND they ONLY allow to schedule by PHONE#like- my Deaf mother literally physically cannot communicate with them because they refuse to speak to a video phone interpreter#or let her talk to them in person or via email. it actually pisses me off so fucking much#and like. most doctors offices. if you're late they give you 15 minutes before they declare you a no show and cancel#that place gives FIVE MINUTES. i walked in SIX MINUTES LATE one day and BEGGED them to just let me do the appointment#and they still refused#so i was out of meds for like. two weeks. anyway#the last straw was the last TWO times i went i was in my wheelchair#and the doors. open inwards to the rooms#so they closed me in the room for the appointment#and i PHYSICALLY COULDN'T GET OUT because i COULDN'T OPEN THE DOOR because there wasn't enough wheelchair space#and i had to frantically text my mom to let me out and SHE GOT IN TROUBLE FOR IT when i was SOBBING#bc i had tried genuinely screaming at the top of my lungs for someone to let me out of the room but nobody fucking heard me#and the second time i told the nurse 'HEY I CAN'T GET OUT OF HERE WITH MY CHAIR' and she was like 'don't worry I'll come get you'#she never did. i had to get my mom again#not fucking going back there ever again they've only ever pissed me off more with every single interaction#oh also they only let you schedule new appointments after they SEND YOU A LETTER SAYING YOU CAN CALL TO SCHEDULE NOW#if you call before then they DON'T LET YOU#and they give literally fucking 3-5 day later appointments when I've requested SEVERAL times I NEED A TWO WEEK NOTICE FOR WORK#also they don't give a shit about cutting you off your medicine cold turkey and not refilling it until several requests later#fuck that place. i hope every good doctor there finds a better job and the building gets abandoned and crumbles to the ground.
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winterrose42 · 7 months
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Of course the first day this week im not actively dying from whatever cold i picked up is the day work decides its gonna be slow. Not any other day this week when moving was like yeeting a mountain oh noooo
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navramanan · 2 years
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:/
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ickadori · 7 months
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“You’re my boyfriend, Zayne, not my doctor.”
You huff as he shakes out a multivitamin gummy into the palm of his hand to join the rest of your pills that you had been forgetting —neglecting— to take.
“Is it not a boyfriend’s duty to look after his girlfriend’s health? If so, I have no problem ending this relationship to reinstate you as my patient.” His eyes slide over to meet yours, and you huff again, this time louder than the last, and thrust your hand out so he can drop the pills and gummies into it. “Smart choice.”
He slides you a prepared glass of water, the condensation leaving a wet streak across the counter, and he wipes it up with a paper towel. Your fingers close around the glass as you go to take the first pill, only for his voice to make you freeze.
“Have you eaten breakfast yet? Taking those on an empty stomach will make you nauseous.” He’s moving towards the pantry before you can even answer.
You blink at his back as your thumb idly rubs at the white pill. “It will? Hm…” Maybe that’s why you had felt violently ill every time you took your medicine - you were a chronic breakfast-skipper. “No, I haven’t eaten yet.”
“Does homemade pancakes, eggs, and sausages sound fine to you?” Your mouth waters at the thought, and your stomach voices its approval with a low growl. “I’ll take as a yes.” His voice is amused as he turns his head to look at you over his shoulder, and you shoot a bashful smile his way before placing your pills a bit to the side so they’re out of the way.
“Do you even have time to make all that? You have a surgery this afternoon, don’t you?” A sudden wave of guilt comes crashing over you, and your eyebrows pull together as you watch him grab all the ingredients. Zayne took care of people at work all day, and nearly everyday, and now here he was taking care of you in the small slot of time he had to relax before being thrust back into work, and all because you’re adverse to taking a few pills.
“There’s plenty of time left before I have to head in and start preparing. Don’t worry.” He assures, and you prop your chin up on your fist with a quiet sigh, knowing it’s no use trying to convince him of anything different.
He works quickly yet efficiently as he prepares everything, his gaze drifting over to you every so often. Soon enough, your apartment is filled with the scent of a delicious smelling breakfast and a plate filled with food is being placed down in front of you along with a fork.
Zayne props his forearms on the marble of the island you’re sat at and nods towards your food. “Eat.”
“A please would be nice.”
“A thank you would be nice.”
“A kiss would be nice.”
“Would it?” A smile tugs at his lips, and you nod with a hum as you pick up your fork. “I think so, too. Perhaps I’ll give you one once your plate is empty and those pills are gone.”
“Pinky promise?” You hold your pinky out to him, and he gives a soft shake of his hair, black hair swishing as he lets out a soft chuckle and twines his finger with yours.
“You’re such a child sometimes.”
“I keep you young.” You cut off a section of your pancakes and stuff it into your mouth, the sweet taste of the syrup coating your tastebuds and making you sigh. “An yawt.” You say around a mouthful of food, and he raises a brow as he moves your glass of water closer to you, but not before using his evol to make it ice cold.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full - you’ll choke.”
You swallow before speaking, fork already moving to gather another bite.
“So? You’re a doctor, you can just give me the heimlich.” It’s his turn to sigh.
“Just eat your food.”
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peachesofteal · 2 months
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Simon with herding instinct on that physio snippet.... God what I'd do to be Reader (I'm not sick but I'm KO by my period, so I think I also deserve herding instincts and a cup of tea made by someone who is not me)
I think you deserve a little treat for your body torturing you Same reader as this (female reader)
"Fuck." You draw a deep breath through your nose and blow it out slowly, trying to push the pain away. You have a busy schedule today, and the 141 was expected to be back which meant you'd have the Lieutenant on your table at some point between now and twenty one hundred.
You do not have time for period pain.
Your appointments waltz in and out through the day, your focus turning from the stabbing, burning ache in your belly, quads and lower back, until the clock finally ticks down to nineteen hundred, and you slump over in your chair. A moment's reprieve, a second to get off your feet, exhaustion sinking into you, your longing for your bed and a heating pad stealing the whole of your attention. You can almost feel it, the hot shower, the comfort of your sheets, a cup of tea. Almost.
For now, you swallow more paracetamol and hope it lasts you through the rest of the day.
The door to the clinic swings open, and you don't need to peek outside the door of your office to know who it is.
No one has footsteps as heavy as his.
The Lieutenant.
The man you do not understand. The one who treated you like a small, fragile animal when you were sick, barging into your house and forcing you onto the couch, doling out medicine and hand feeding you warm broth. He pressed cold cloths to your forehead, held your hair and rubbed your back as you vomited.
The entire time you trembled with nerves, staring at the stitching of his balaclava, looking away each time his face turned towards yours. He hated you, why was he here?
Your fever broke, he disappeared. And the next time you saw him-
He went back to treating you just as he always did.
Coldly. Gruffly. Rudely.
Tonight would be no different.
So when you step outside and see him still in his full kit, arms folded across his chest, you wilt, already defeated, stomach tying itself in knots.
"Need m'back looked at." He barks and you fight the instinct to jump.
"Yeah, o-of course." The words are unsteady, you're unsteady, just like each time before, and he doesn't say anything else, just looks you up and down before brushing by you to get to the table.
He's the width of your workspace. Wingspan larger than should be humanly possible, width of his shoulders and back difficult to comprehend. He could tear you apart, if he wanted, so you've always treated him so carefully, staying focused, making sure you don't slip up and push his muscles too far or cause him pain. It's the same care you apply to all your patients, but with him, it's different. It's like diffusing a bomb.
His head is turned towards you as your fingers walk down the middle of his spine, working pressure points. Every time he twitches, or grunts, or even breathes deeply, you tense, but you keep your focus, kneading down to his sciatic nerve, pushing in deep, deep enough to make him groan, your heartbeat pulsing in your ears.
You don't even realize he's saying your name until he shifts on the table.
"S-sorry?" His eyes are locked the space between your legs, and you follow his sight line, gasping when you see what he sees.
Red.
Your standard issue khaki pants are stained dark red at your thighs.
"Oh my god. Oh my god, I'm sorry, I'm," you stumble backwards, hands flying to cover yourself, scrambling on how to get yourself out of the room and into the bathroom as quickly as possible. Your cheeks burn from humiliation. "I'm sorry, I uh- I'll be right back."
"Do you have another pair of pants?" He cocks his head.
I don't... I don't think so."
"Hmm." He continues to stare, and then, like he was having a conversation with himself, he swings off the table, reaching for the jacket he showed up in, before stalking towards you.
You stumble back, but you're too slow, and he catches you by your wrist, tugging you forward. You close your eyes. "Lieutenant-"
"Hush." The jacket goes around your waist, giant sleeves tied at your navel, the length of the hanging directly over where your pants are stained. You're not petite by any means, so the fact that this garment can even begin to cover you is a miracle in itself. But then again, he is massive. "Stay." He moves around the room, ducking into the other one with your desk, flicking the lights off, before grabbing the keys off the hook and shepherding you through the clinic to the front door.
"What... what're you doing?" There's a murderous look in his eye when he turns to you, and it freezes your blood.
"Takin' you home."
"I can get h-home myself." You hate the way your voice shakes.
"Covered in blood? You really want the entire base to see you like tha'?" The shame burns, and tears build on your waterline. "C'mon." His hand settles between your shoulder blades, essentially turning you into a ship with no sails, only a rudder at your back. Him.
He steers you into your house by your hips. You live directly off base, in civilian housing, luckiest of them all, if you're being honest, though in this moment, you're not sure you are so lucky.
"Leave your clothes in the sink." He orders when he lets you go, moving towards the kitchen.
"My clothes?"
"You know how to get bloodstains out of your clothes?"
"Oh, uh... n-no."
"Then..." he motions with his hands for your pants.
"Right now?" You squeak, and he nods.
"Now, pet." You fumble with the zipper and the button, hands trembling so bad you struggle with them. "Need help?"
"No! No... I got it." you get them down to your knees after a struggle, and then kick them off. Will he ask for your underwear too? He answers like he can ready your mind.
"Leave 'em on the bathroom floor. Shower, and then straight to bed."
"I'm not a child!" The protest is bold, boldest you've ever been with him, insecure, scared feelings coming forth in the outburst.
"Could've fooled me. Children need takin' care of, jus' like you." The words jam in your throat, stolen by the intensity of a cramp, and his eyes soften. "Go on up. I'll bring you somethin' for the pain, and some tea." There's no fight left in you, drained like the blood from your body, and your shoulders slump.
An hour later, in the dark, your door cracks. You're curled up in a ball, heating pad tucked against your pubic bone, buried beneath a mountain of blankets when the bed dips, the mass of the Lieutenant's weight settling next to your hip.
He sits you up, like a doll. Makes you take more paracetamol, finish a glass of water, and then pushes a hot tea in your hand.
By the time he's done, you slump back against the pillows, exhausted. Your eyelids go heavy, and he shifts you back to your side. You're too tired to argue with him, fight him, and when his fingers start applying counter pressure to your lower back, working through the tension, the tightness from your period, you let out a low moan. He chuckles. The man actually laughs.
"Why are you here?" You murmur in the dark, and he doesn't answer right away, sitting in the silence for too long.
And then-
"My mum always taught me to take care of my things."
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livvyofthelake · 2 years
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why does choices not drop the new chapters until literally 12:30pm. girl i am on break NOW i want to see the start of the chapter NOW. this is ridiculous it’s literally choices friday.
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jakesangel · 4 months
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sick jake ><
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what jake wants jake gets but sick jake ? it will be the end for you. either that he pretends to be unable to do anything or is hyper, he would give you the time of your life.
when he gets his mouth ulcer, he knows the medecine will hurt him more so he wouldn't stop moving making it hard for the members of the staff to heal him. they even had to tie him up. but once you're in his life ? ? he would do it on purpose just to get you to heal him. he would whine out loud not caring of the situation or the place he is. he would jump around not wanting to be tied up again. he just doesn't want anyone else to heal him. he is all yours, why would him ? so when sunghoon had the idea to call you over, he was so happy. the happiest, he would grin so hard, making everyone in the room realized of his true intentions. but even if he didn't, he was suddenly patently waiting for you, sitting on the dance practice couch, a contrast from few seconds ago.
once you arrive w the members telling you what's happening and giving you the médecine, you would see a jake already looking at you, sitting w his legs moving around, his body buzzing of excitement. his smile would get bigger when he sees you approching with the medecine. he knows it will hurt, but knowing you'd be the one healing him, eases him. hi would he says w the biggest grin, you know you didn't have time come here, not even hiding the biggest lie he ever told you. he would grab your hands, leading you on his lap and then, put them on your thighs, lovingly strocking them, while you'd open the medecine. could you hold my face while you'll do it, princess ? he would expendantly ask, his face held high, eyes round to look at you only. please ?
but when jake is having a cold, he will act like a baby. he would either come over or beg u through text for you to come to him. he wouldn't even open the front door, pretending that he can't get out of his bed. he'd prepare himself : once you open the door he will cough n pretend his voice is roak, but it never works. once he his the door opens, he knows he won. he knows you are going to baby him and that he has you, all for himself, and maybe you'd even stay for the night. so every single time, he would smile so big once he sees you. and it is an endearing sight to see : he had himself wrapped up in his blanket, his head the only thing that can be seen. my princess finally came to save me, he'd dramatically say. kiss me i'm literally to die !, if he is contagious you'll obviously try to protest making him only whine louder so that's it. that's how i'm going ? without even a kiss from my princess. oh life hates me, or just negotiate with you please, baby ? i promise you ill take such good care of you if you do get sick. please ?
sick jake will not use hands. he would keep them under the blanket waiting for you to feed him, either food or the medicine. so when you're so close to him, on his bed, feeding him, he keeps it cool finally getting what he wants.he'd stop trying to kiss you but only opening and closing his mouth only when the spoon is approaching or leaving his face. jake would only move when he knows you guys will cuddle. so when you come back from the kitchen, his dishes on the sink, he'd have the blanket open for you. babe, could you touch my hair while we watch a movie, please ? he'd confide you. and that's only then he will fall asleep, your chest is pressed by his back, your hand on his hair.
notes : jake politely asking is making me insane but he is the cutest puppy he would so do this :(
@imaluckygirl @luvj4key @heeseungswifefr @stwrjvke @goldenretrieverjakezgirlbaby @jaeyunpinkyring
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deamonichusband · 2 months
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When they are sick and you take care of them
GN Reader
Characters in this are: Tengen Uzui, Rengoku Kyojuro, Sanmei Shinazugawa, Giyu Tomioka, Obanai Iguro, Shinobu Kocho
(My requests are open if any of you want to request something)
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Tengen Uzui:
-You and his wives knew he was sick before he knew himself.
-You may ask why and the answer is very simple: He gets really moody when he is sick.
-You better be prepared to force him to take his medicine.
-If he says no like a child, promise him candy that you don’t give him afterwards since he is sick.
-His hair is turning into a mess so you all make sure to brush it for him.
-Lots of whining.
-He complains at least once a day that being sick is not very flamboyant.
-He will demand a lot of cuddles.
-And soup. When this man is sick, he is consuming even more soup then usual. It makes you a bit worried every time but his wives assure you that he will be okay.
-He doesn’t get fever or throws up, he literally almost always just has a cold and a sore throat.
-He can be quite drama queen when he is sick.
-Refuse to cuddle him and he will whine that you don’t love him.
-“This is it, I can see the light!” . “Tengen, it’s just a cold!”
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Rengoku Kyojuro:
-This man is so adorable when he is sick.
-His hair is a mess, his eyes are glassy and a bit unfocused and when you look at him, your feel your heart melt.
-He needs a lot of blankets when he is sick because he feels so cold even if he has a high fever.
-He doesn’t let you sleep in the same room as him in fear of getting you sick as well.
-“I don’t want you to get a fever as well, little flame.”
-You are upset by it but you understand where he is coming from. And to be fair, you really don’t want a fever as well.
-You make him a lot of delicious soups and teas.
-You give him one of your shirts and put it over a pillow so he at least has something that smells like you while he sleeps.
-He gives you a soft smile and curls up around the pillow.
-And your heart melts again at the sight of that.
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Sanmei Shinazugawa:
-He is really stubborn.
-Like, when he finds out he has a fever, he ignores it.
-He continues to train and work until he almost gets hurt during a mission.
-Which earns him a scolding from you.
-You force him to rest.
-Which doesn’t stop him from trying to move.
-You threaten to tie him up or chain him to the floor if he doesn’t rest.
-Which has him groaning.
-But he finally actually rests.
-He sleeps really bad when he is sick, so you better stroke his hair while he sleeps to help him to sleep better.
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Giyu Tokioma:
-This man is not complicated while sick. He is the tamest one out of everyone.
-He mostly sleeps through his fever.
-But then the coughing starts.
-It wakes him up multiple times during the night and he almost throws up by how abd it is in the first few days.
-You make sure that is a lot of water in the bedroom, so that he doesn’t have to go to the kitchen.
-He is even m ore silent then usual while sick.
-But he looks vulnerable, allowing you to see every emotions he has.
-You make sure he feels loved and that he knows you love him deeply.
-Be prepared to be the big spoon while he is sick.
-Before he falls asleep, he mutters something to you.
-“Thank you for taking care of me, my dewdrop. I love you.”
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Obanai Iguro:
-He is a bit stubborn because he can bearly breath under his mask.
-You gently ask him to take his mask off and your heart aches when he hesitates.
-You have to give him as much comforting and reassuring words as you can, until he feels better.
-So he takes of his mask and you gently stroke your thumbs over his cheeks gently, asking him if breathing is better now.
-And it is.
-He takes the medicine you give him like he needs to.
-He definitely tries to talk his way out of disgusting medicine. But you are very insisting that he takes it.
-He feels useless and tells you as much.
-So you give him a kiss to the tip of his nose, which has him blushing and whining.
-“You always take care of me Obi. So now I am taking care of you.
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Shinobu Kocho:
-Like Sanemi, she is really stubborn about it.
-She makes sure to write down medication that you need to prepare for her.
-Tho you 100% have to force her to not make it herself.
-She won’t rest when the fever slowly rises, so you have to force her to rest.
-She will say no at first. But then you give her big begging puppy eyes and how can she say no to that.
-You make sure to take care of her.
-But she still tries to help you take care of her.
-Ever heard that doctors are the worst patients? She is the perfect example for that.
-She has a list for what you can cook for her and get ready to make a lot of tea for her.
-If you catch her getting up before she is fully better, you better give her an earful.
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Mitsuri Kanjiro:
-Mitsuri hates being sick. It always makes her feel really weak.
-You can see her usually happy expression fade into one of discomfort.
-You make sure that she takes her medicine, but sometimes you have to force her because she hates the taste of it.
-It's not often that she gets sick, which you are happy about, because seeing her usually happy and bright personality being replaced with a weak and sad one makes your heart ache a lot.
-When she is sick, she always has a stuffy nose, so you need to get as many tissues for her as possible.
-Her appetite is not there for the first few days, which makes you worry a lot.
-When it gets better, you make a lot of soup for her. You feel relieved when she slowly eats more and more again.
-Once she is almost completely recovered, she demands as much soup as you can possibly make her.
-The thing she hates the most about being sick is that she can't eat Sakura Mochi untill she has recovered.
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Muichiro Tokito:
-When he is sick his eyes are even more dull than usual.
-He also forgets stuff a lot more, so you need to take care of him.
-You make sure to give him his medicine when he needs to take it.
-You make a lot of his favourite soup for him.
-When he is sick, he has a hard time falling asleep, so he forces you to sing lullabies to him while stroking a hand through his hair.
-He never complains when he is sick, but you can always tell that it bothers him.
-When he was sick once, you handed him a bucket after he woke up. When you said it was because he had thrown up, he blinked at you slowly.
-"I threw up?"
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Gyomei Himejima:
-This man needs you the most when he is sick.
-He does not know what medicine bottle is what, so you need to help him take the right medicine at the right time.
-He asks you to clean his prayer beads once a day while he recovers, which you gladly do.
-You also make sure that Genya is checked on at least once every few days. Of course you let him see Gyomei, tho you make sure it is only a short visit and that he doesn't get too close.
-Gyomei gets nightmares everytime he sleeps while being sick, so you are always holding him while giving him comfort.
-When you end up getting sick from being so close to him, he does his best to take care of you.
-When Genya somehow managed to get sick, both of you take care of him.
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cutielando · 6 months
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driving around | l.n.
synopsis: in which you're too stubborn for your own good
a/n: thank you so much @rayaharper for requesting this !!❤️
my masterlist
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“You’re not driving”
“Why not??” 
“You’re sick, I’m not risking putting you behind the wheel just because you’re stubborn”
You had been bickering like this for nearly 10 minutes now, neither of you wanting to compromise for the other. 
It’s not like you were that sick, you were coughing a bit, with a runny nose, sore muscles and a little temperature. You were basically fine and good to go.
But Lando didn’t agree on that.
He blamed what he called the “Verstappen stubborn gene.” He always made fun of you and your brother, Max, for sharing that stubborn trait that he hated so much.
It was also because he was a stubborn person as well, which meant that you would oftentimes clash regarding pretty much everything.
Just like you were doing now.
You were insisting to drive you and Lando to the track so he could get some more rest and the boy was having none of it.
“Just because I’m a little sick doesn’t mean I’m incapable of driving, Lando” you complained, rolling your eyes which hurt right in your sinuses.
That should have been the first sign to stop you from being so adamant to drive, but you weren’t about to give up so easily.
“Little sick? You’ve been burning up for 2 days and can barely get any sleep without waking up in cold sweat. You hardly eat anything and your sinuses are clogged” he reasoned, making you look at him.
He was right. Everything he was saying was the truth.
But it still didn’t sway you.
“It’s just a cold, I can manage just fine” you said before opening the door and getting into the driver’s seat.
Lando sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He hates how stubborn you were at times, and he knew that his attempts to get you to let him drive would be in vain.
With that being said, he just sighed once again and got into the passenger seat.
“Just so we’re clear, I don’t condone this and I’m really not okay with you driving in this state” he said once he buckled up, tracking your every movement with his eyes.
“Babe, I’ll be fine. It’s just a short ride, it’s not like I’ll be driving for hours” you attempted to soothe him, but it clearly wasn’t working.
He only hummed and looked back at the road, keeping an eye on you from the corner of his eye.
As you started the relatively short drive from your hotel and towards the track, you could slowly feel your eyes burning, the soreness in your muscles escalating with each minute and your headache coming in strong.
It was in those moments that you knew he had been right and you shouldn’t have insisted on driving. You could feel nausea coming quickly onto your body, making you swallow harshly in order to tame it for now.
You had barely made it to the track safely, Lando already knowing that you would be way too tired to even watch the race after this.
“I told you so” he said, standing beside you as you weakly managed to get out of the car.
You glared at him, the movement hurting your sinuses even more. 
“I just wanted you to get some more rest before we got here” you said, pouting at him with glossy eyes.
He sighed when he looked at you, bringing you into his arms right away. He kissed your forehead, frowning once he felt how hot you were and saw how sick you actually looked.
“I know you did, but baby, you’re sick. I don’t want to rest when you’re feeling like this, I want to take care of you. And I can’t do that when you argue with me and put me on the spot for wanting to help you” he said, gently trying to make you see that he only wanted what was best for you.
Deep down, you knew you had been wrong, and right now in Lando’s arms, you realized just how much you had needed his warmth and his hug.
“I’m sorry for being stubborn” your voice was small, but he still heard you.
“Come on, let’s get you to hospitality and find some medicine and a quiet place to rest for you” he let go of you and opened the door to take your bags, taking your hand and leading you to the McLaren hospitality.
He manages to avoid the paparazzi on the way to the motorhome, keeping you close to his body.
Once you got to the motorhome, Jon was waiting for Lando there, his eyebrows instantly furrowing once he saw the state you were in.
“What’s wrong with her?” Jon asked Lando once he sat you down at a table and wrapped his jacket around your body.
Lando sighed, looking back at how you were practically sleeping on the chair before he turned around to talk to his trainer.
“She’s been sick for the past few days and today she insisted on driving us to the track even when I told her she’s too sick to drive. We just barely got here okay because she got worse on the road” he explained, his voice hushed as he kept stealing glances at his passed out girlfriend.
“Have you talked to her doctor or something?” Jon asked worriedly, caring for you just as much as Lando ever since the two of you were introduced.
Lando nodded. “I did, she said we should just wait for it to pass, that she should get plenty of rest and shouldn’t do much, but you know how she is” he explained further.
“You have one stubborn girlfriend, mate” Jon joked, bumping his shoulder in order to help the driver relax.
Lando chuckled, nodding knowingly. 
Just as he was about to say something else, you whined as you started to wake up, trying to wrap the jacket even tighter around your body.
“Lan?” your voice was small, your eyes slowly blinking open.
“I’m here, baby. Come on, let’s get you to a room where you can rest up. Jon will look after you” he said while picking you up bridal style.
The three of you made your way upstairs to a free room, Lando immediately bundled you up in your blankets that he brought for you and helped you take your medicine.
Even in your current state, somewhere between reality and sleep, you realized just how much you needed to rest and how truly sick you were.
“Thank you for taking care of me and sorry for insisting on driving today” you said when he finished fussing over you and leaned down to kiss your forehead.
Lando shook his head, brushing a strand of your hair from your eyes.
“Don’t apologize, just get some rest and I’ll see you after practice, okay?” you nodded, settling into the tiny bed and allowing yourself to succumb to your sleep.
Lando left you in the room partly against his will, but with the reassurance that Jon would take care of you while he was in the car.
And, at the end of the day, he was always going to take care of you, no matter what.
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2hightocare · 7 months
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INFATUATED!
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“In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman.” — mini series ❦︎
Synopsis: The feeling of finding a person who makes your tummy do cartwheels everyday, no matter what the situation is.
Pairings: nonidol!jungkook x fem!reader
Warnings: super cute duper fluff, jk being the epitome of every girls dream man. Argument, oc crying, Jungkook wasting money on oc, banter, cussing, flirting. Js super cute cliché shit…
a/n: they’re my babies… they’re so ‘tear in my heart’ coded but after this I might be inactive. I have a paper due in three weeks 10 pages long so…. Plus in my free time I’m working on a series that I will drop the teaser and aesthetic maybe later or tmr🤍🤍🤍 enjoy!! Kithes.
Falling in love with Jungkook was so easy that it scared you. He did everything right, and whenever there was something wrong, he would do anything in his power to make it right. You thought it was too good to be true, and he would just disappear into angel dust if you blinked too fast.
“How do you feel?” Your boyfriend moves your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead in the process. “Warm.” You talk about the fever you have. The covers that were wrapped tightly around you are shredded from you. “Hey!” You pout, shaking from how cold you feel even though the air is off and it’s not cold. “You’re not going to get better, baby.” He pouts back at you, holding the covers tightly on his chest as you try to fight back for it.
“I'm freezing,” you whine, your eyelids fluttering shut as his palm touches your face.
“You’re burning, baby,” he lets you know while sighing.
You had gotten sick yesterday, which had started with a sore throat. You had thought when you would have woken up today it would’ve been gone; spoiler: it got worse.
Jungkook makes his way to his kitchen, opening up the gray cabinet in front of him. He pulls out the tray filled with medicine his mom gave him whenever he moved out around four years ago. He pops open the pill container, taking two small white round pills out before grabbing a water bottle and making his way to you, who’s curled up on his couch.
Jungkook feels like shit whenever he can’t do anything to make you feel better. It didn’t matter what it was; he would do anything in his power to make you feel better. Seeing you sick, your face red from how hot you are, your eyes closed, and curled up from how cold you felt had him thinking that if he could take away your sickness and be sick instead, Jungkook would choose that option in an instant.
He hands you the pills and the water bottle and watches you take them one by one. He remembers when you gawked at him when he took 4 pills at once and learned that you have a fear of the pill going down the wrong tube.
He also remembers that you prefer pills and injections instead of just medicine syrup. Which baffled him, to say the least; how could someone prefer an injection instead of just strawberry-flavored syrup? He laughed at you, which you just shrugged because it was the truth; you preferred to get poked by a needle than just drinking something.
“That’s actually crazy.” Jungkook throws his head backwards as a laugh rips out of his chest. “It’s nasty. I don’t care what flavor it is. I would literally throw it up.” You scrunch your nose, remembering the taste of the medicines your parents literally shoved down your throat so you could get better.
“Don’t get me started on how anything medicine strawberry flavored gives me PTSD till this day.” You shiver from the thought, which has your boyfriend laughing at you.
“I can’t breathe,” you say, your voice scratchy from your sore throat as you breathe from your mouth. “I should’ve enjoyed breathing when I could,” you joke, watching your boyfriend's eyes twinkle. They had a small glimmer to them, making you wonder how that could possibly happen and why you haven't seen it before with anyone else.
Jungkook had no clue how he ended up here… with a girl he met in a chemistry class that accidentally dropped sulfuric acid all over the floor alongside the beaker smashing into tiny pieces. He watched how your eyes widened as a small piece of your hair dropped beautifully in front of your face out of the low ponytail. You had tied it with a blue latex glove as a hair tie since you didn’t have one after no one in class had one to let you borrow.
That was two years ago; now here he was taking care of you as you struggled to breathe from your congested nose.
“Can I get my blanket back?” You pout at him, which he only shook his head with a chuckle.
….
“Get whatever you want,” Jungkook gave your ass a little tap as you entered the makeup store, your eyes widening from excitement. “Don’t say stuff like that,” you give him a look, which has him tilting your face up with his hand.
“Why, baby?” He chuckles, pecking your pouted lips.
“Because it makes me feel things, duh,” you whisper into his lips. He smiles into your mouth. His lip piercing sends cold shocks through your body that has you playfully shoving him away, remembering where you guys are.
“Get whatever you want, and then we can go to the bookstore,” Jungkook picks up the black and white striped little Sephora bag before pointing in front of you to walk.
You giggled as you started looking for the things that have been sitting in your phone cart for a while now. Jungkook follows behind you, stopping whenever you stop to look at the shelves for something before you drop the product in the basket in your boyfriend's hand.
“That’s really cute,” Jungkook mentions the lipstick tester you have in your hand. “You should get it,” he says, tilting his head at you, watching you open the lid being met with a reddish-dark color.
“Don’t you think it’s too dark?” You look up at your smiling boyfriend.
“What?” You giggle as you stare back at him. “You look beautiful,” he says casually, reaching for your beanie and pulling it down a bit more, fixing it. “You literally want me to die right now,” you joke. “Baby!” Jungkook laughs at the tone of voice you used.
“You can’t keep saying things like that without expecting me to literally melt away,” you lean your body onto him while he wraps his strong hands around your much smaller frame as you look up to him.
“I just say whatever is in my mind at the moment, princess,” he explains, giving your waist a small squeeze, making you squirm as the feeling made you ticklish. “Ah!” You laugh as his fingers dig into your rib cage, tickling you.
You push him away as he tries to continue to tickle your tummy. “Stop!” You laugh, trying to get away as far as you can from him.
Jungkook stops when he sees two girls around your guy's age pass beside you both with judging eyes. “Someone’s mad...” Jungkook whispers into your head as you just shake your head with a laugh.
“Let’s leave, I got everything,” you giggle, intertwining your fingers with him, making your way to the line.
When you guys finally get to the line, you are met with a pretty blonde girl, her dimples carved into her skin when she smiles up at you both. “Hi, is that all?” The girl said, you take notice of her name tag.
“Yes, that's all, thank you,” you smile back. “Find everything you wanted?” Genesis asks, as she starts scanning the products. “Yeah, thanks,” you say, playing with the strings of your hoodie as you see the price rise with each scan.
“Card or cash?” Genesis says, as she points to the credit card reader.
“Card,” Jungkook says before you could reply. He pulls out his black card from the back of the phone case, before scanning it through the white card reader without looking at the price. The machine makes a small sound, “here you go, have a wonderful day!” The girl says ripping the receipt before putting it into the white and black bag, handing it to you.
“Thank you, baby,” you say as you walk out the door of the store, Jungkook smiles at you before shrugging. “The least I could do, princess,” he gives your hand three small squeezes, which feels like he’s squeezing your heart as well. “It was expensive as fuck,” you pout at him. “How much?” He asks, “a thousand.” You cringe, scrunching your nose up at realizing the astonishing price. “That’s it?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow before reaching to the passenger side of his car.
“What! You’re crazy,” you say, giving him a slight swat. You watch as the side of his lips quirk up, making you mirror his actions.
“I love you,” you pout, as he leans into his car. “And I love you so much more,” he says, pulling you into him from your waist.
You tipped toe to reach for his lips, his lips mold with yours perfectly as you both were pieces of a puzzle. “How do you want the kiss?” He asks, giving your waist a squeeze. “What is this, a drive-thru? I get to ask what type of kiss I want,” you giggle, letting your forehead drop onto his chest which rumbles with a laugh.
“You get to ask whatever you want from me,” Jungkook rubs your back softly on top of your thick hoodie. “Oh shit,” your eyes widened as you saw the small print of your makeup on his black shirt when you raised your head upwards. “What?” He looks down to his shirt where you’re rubbing your fingers on the dirty print.
“I just ruined your shirt, baby, ahh!” You freak, which has Jungkook laughing while trying to reassure you that it’s fine and he’ll just wash it when he gets home.
As much as you guys had moments like this, you guys had your disagreements. They weren’t as bad where they ended in screaming matches or end up not talking for days, you guys usually make up the same day before going to bed. Jungkook loathed going to bed whenever you two fought; he felt compelled to make things right before even considering sleep.
“Why are you making me feel bad?” You say, your voice cracking, which echoes the fractures in Jungkook's heart. “I’m not, baby. It’s just... I can’t do anything about it,” Jungkook tries to reason with you.
“She was literally all over you, and you didn’t stop it,” you feel your eyes start to water before staring down at your converse.
“She’s my mom's best friend's daughter; I can’t just tell her to fuck off, y/n. I backed off. I can’t control what she does,” Jungkook raises his voice, a tear falling down your cheek as he addresses you by your first name, a departure from his usual endearments, which feels like a knife to your chest.
“Okay, then,” you nod, tears starting to cascade down, smudging your makeup in the process.
Jungkook's throat tightens; he feels like he can't breathe, feeling like shit. He watches you wipe your tears, small sniffles escaping your mouth. “I’m going to go,” you sniffle, turning your back to him and reaching for your bag.
“No, don't leave, let’s talk this out,” Jungkook implores, turning you around to face him. He reaches for your cheeks, wiping away the tears that continue to fall down your puffy cheeks. “You’re hurting me,” you say, with a sniffle.
“I know. I’m fucking sorry, baby,” he feels his heart racing, wanting to die for making you feel bad for caring about him.
“Why didn’t you push her away or say something? You made me look fucking stupid, Jungkook,” you cry, recalling the pang of feeling as Kailey flirted with him in front of his family, and he did nothing to stop it, leaving you feeling small and insignificant.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he kisses away your tears, trying to soothe the ache in your heart. “I promise I’ll shove her off whenever I see her, and if I have the chance to avoid her, I will,” he whispers into your cheek with each kiss he leaves on your face.
“Promise?” You whisper, finally meeting his worried eyes.
“Promise, baby,” he whispers back, holding eye contact with your red, puffy eyes.
“I hate making you cry; please forgive me,” Jungkook pulls you into him, hugging you tightly as if afraid you'll slip away. “I forgive you, just don’t do it ever again,” you sniffle into his chest, feeling the throb in your heart melt away.
“I love you,” he says, swaying you both in the middle of his living room.
“I love you,” you sniffle.
….
"But the Maze Runner is so good," you literally whine at your boyfriend, who is in the middle of changing his shirt.
"Yeah, but not as good as Spiderman," he says, poking his head out the shirt hole with a grin.
"Okay, true, but the Maze Runner is just as good; you need to read the book to understand," you mumble, trying to separate a piece of hair from your mouth as you curl another strand with your wand.
"You just have a huge crush on Dylan O’Brian, let’s be honest," your boyfriend chuckles, sending you a look through the mirror, to which you just roll your eyes back at him, acknowledging a) that he was right. b) he was literally right.
“Says the boy who had a crush on Fluttershy when we watched My Little Pony,” you say, giving him a 'don’t try me' look. His jaw falls before giving your hair a tiny soft pull.
"You said you wouldn’t bring it up," he laughs before shaking his head with a chuckle. "Well..." you just shrug.
“Fluttershy reminds me of you,” Jungkook stands behind you, his fingers playing with your freshly curled hair. “Until you act like a brat,” he tugs on your hair, making your head snap backwards, where he leaves a big fat smooch on your lips.
“Okay, princess, let’s go,” he says before unplugging the curling wand wire, grabbing your bag and coat, before holding your hand and leading you outside.
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starkwlkr · 8 months
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Love your baby Leclerc series! ❤️ If you're into the idea, maybe you'd like to write about Charles' little girl being sick and him being all worried and taking care of her? 🥺
my baby | charles leclerc
note: i am not taking requests, i am just posting my drafts
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It started in the middle of the night when Ruby woke up Charles. She had her favorite blanket wrapped around her with her bunny slippers on her cold feet. She stood beside Charles, who was snoring. She called his name several times, but he didn’t wake up so she tried poking his arm until he woke up. When that didn’t work, she remembered the story that she overheard the other day about something that Charles had shouted.
“Box! Box!” She raised her voice slightly.
It was like a trigger word for Charles that instantly brought bad memories and anxiety. The driver woke up immediately and saw that his daughter was standing in front of him.
“What time is it?” He wondered as he rubbed his tired eyes.
“I don’t know, but I’m hurting, papa.” Ruby whined.
“What’s wrong, my Ruby Jules?” Charles asked.
“My head is hurting and I’m cold.” She whispered.
Charles pressed his hand against Ruby’s forehead and felt it warm. She was getting a fever and you weren’t home. You were on a trip with Mathéo to your home country to visit your parents. Ruby had school so Charles stayed behind since he had a break from racing.
“You wanna sleep beside papa? I’ll get some medicine so you can feel better.” Charles uncovered himself and stood up from his bed . He took Ruby into his arms and laid her onto his bed then covered her with the blanket.
“Papa, Floppy is alone in my room! He doesn’t like being alone!” Ruby gasped.
“I’ll go get Floppy, just stay here.” Charles said then kissed Ruby’s warm forehead. His first stop was to get medicine from the cabinet in kitchen. He read the directions on the bottle then grabbed a spoon. His next stop was Ruby’s bedroom where he retrieved his daughter’s favorite stuffed bunny named Floppy.
“Floppy!” Ruby called out as Charles made his way back into his room. He carefully set the bunny on the bed for her to grab.
“Time for your medicine, mon amour,” he sat on the edge of the bed as he started to open the bottle of medicine.
“I don’t want that.” Ruby used Floppy to hide her face.
“Ruby Jules, if you want to get better, you have to drink your medicine.” Charles said. Ruby hesitated, but sat up so she could drink from the spoon filled with medicine that her papa had poured.
“Does it taste like candy?” She asked.
“I don’t know, how about you taste it and then tell me.”
So she did, but instantly realized that it did not taste like candy.
“Yuck!” She made a face at her papa wondering why he even bought that disgusting liquid into the house.
“Okay, you did good. Scoot, your papa wants some cuddles.” Charles got under the covers then brought Ruby closer to him.
Morning came and Ruby was still sick. She had a stuffy nose and her fever had gotten worse. She didn’t even feel like getting out of Charles’ bed so when it was breakfast time, he brought a plate of pancakes and fruit to her.
“Papa, it hurts.” Ruby groaned as she hugged Floppy. Charles was starting to question if he should take her to the emergency room. He had texted you early in the morning about Ruby’s condition. You replied that you would get on the next flight to Monaco, but he assured you that he could handle it.
At least he thought he could.
“I know, Ruby, I know,” Charles placed a kiss on her cheek. “You know, grand-mére told me that taking a bath makes you feel better. I’m going to fill the bath, okay?”
“Can you put bubbles and the toys?” She mumbled weakly.
“Anything for you.”
After getting the bath ready with bubbles and toys, Ruby got in. The water made her feel slightly better, but blowing bubbles and playing with rubber ducks with her papa made her smile ten times more.
“Hello mister duck, you look nice today!” Charles tried doing different voices for each duck. “Thank you, little duck!”
“The ducks should have names, papa.” Ruby said.
“You’re right, what should the ducks be called?” Charles asked.
“This one is called Arthur and this one Lorenzo.” Ruby laughed as she pointed to the two ducks that Charles had in his hands.
“I guess that just leaves Charles the duck.” The Ferrari driver grabbed the third duck that was floating in the bubbly water.
“No, papa! His name is Floppy two.” Ruby grabbed the duck from Charles’ hands and played with it.
“Floppy two . . . I guess he can be called that.”
When bath time came to an end, Charles let Ruby get dressed by herself, something she always wanted to do. As Ruby got dressed in her room, Charles prepared dinner for them. Before he could finish the mac and cheese for his daughter, the doorbell rang.
He walked to the front door and opened it revealing his brothers Lorenzo and Arthur, along with Lorenzo’s girlfriend, Charlotte. “Where is my favorite niece?” Arthur asked.
“Hello, Arthur, it’s so nice to see you. I’m doing good, thanks for asking.” Charles rolled his eyes as he let his family in.
“How is Ruby?” Lorenzo asked.
“She’s better. She just took a bath, that definitely helped a lot.” Charles explained.
“Papa! I can’t put my shoe on!” The Leclerc heard Ruby shout. She walked down the stairs with a pink tutu, purple leggings, a Barbie shirt and one shoe on while she held the other in her left hand.
“Interesting choice of clothing, Ruby.” Arthur laughed.
“It’s called fashion and Ruby is a pro at it, Arthur!” Charlotte playfully hit Arthur’s arm. “I’ll help you, Ruby, come on.” Charlotte led the little girl to the living room.
“Yeah, Arthur, it’s called fashion!” Ruby sassed.
Arthur cringed. “She just called me Arthur.”
“That’s your name.” Lorenzo replied.
“Yeah, but she’s my niece. It’s weird hearing it from her.”
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help-itrappedmyself · 7 months
Text
Danny Punches a Clown Part 6
Masterpost
Danny, after many promises and assurances, lets Red Robin take him to the batcave. They travel by car, and as fancy as it was, Danny was almost scared to touch anything inside it. Red was a much better driver than his father though, so he just closed his eyes and focused on trying to keep his healing up.
The Batcave turned out to be an actual cave, underground, with actual bats in it. He was whisked to a medical area too quickly to see much of anything else besides some other vehicles and a giant computer set up. 
Someone was waiting in the medical space with a tray of tools and bandages ready next to the bed, Red introduced him as Agent A. They were quick to lie him down on a cot and set him up to a heart monitor and that had Red and the A frowning immediately.
“It’s a medical condition.” Danny blurted, and both pairs of eyes shot to him. “My heartrate is naturally very slow, temperature runs cold, pale skin, slow circulation so I can't have a lot of different medications." Not that any medications would really work, but better safe than sorry. Them not working would be suspicious, and Danny does not have the energy or focus for trying to keep straight any real explanations right now.  "It’s fine, I promise.”
Agent A nodded slowly. “Is there anything else we should know before we start treatment?”
“Just can't give me any medicines, I think that's the only relevant bit.”
“Alright, I will keep that in mind. Please lift your shirt so I can see the wound.”
Danny does, and they manage their expressions quite well on seeing it. Agent A goes immediately for creams and bandages.
“What burned you like that?” Red asked.
“Gun.” Danny was starting to slur. He did not want to sleep right now, with these people here.
“A gun? What kind of gun causes burns?”
“New blaster, parents made it special.”
“Your parents make guns?”
Danny shrugs, turning his head to look at Red instead of the far off ceiling of the cave. “My parents make lots of things. They're scientists, inventors." Danny waves his arm around vaguely. "The gun was new though, hadn’t been shot with that one before. The earlier versions were much less powerful.”
“Are you saying that your parents are the ones that shot you?” Red asked gently, taking a seat in the chair next to the bed. “It wasn’t just their gun that was used?”
Danny frowns. “Well yeah.”
Tim is very concerned at the tone he just used, like getting shot at by your parents was normal. “Do they shoot at you a lot?”
“Fair amount I suppose.” Red could see Danny thinking really hard about something. Dany’s head was really starting to hurt. His brain was fuzzy and he knew he should be concerned about something, but couldn’t figure out what. His parents shooting at him was nothing new, considering. “Like, they did it more than Vlad but I don’t see him as often, and they’ve done it longer than the GIW, but since the GIW has started they’ve been about equal I guess. I mean, sometimes all the defense systems in the house target me but that wasn’t technically intentional. Took forever for us to figure out how to get them to stop that.”
“Danny, when was the last time you slept?” Red asked gently.
Danny wasn’t sure if his blip earlier this morning counted. He didn’t think it lasted more than an hour, but the last time he slept before that was before his fight in Amity, escaping through the ghost zone and running around in this dimension.
“It’s been awhile.” Danny landed on. True enough for medical history he supposed.
“Right.” A finished the last of the bandages and tugged Danny’s shirt back down. “Well, why don’t you do that now, while we go and find you something to eat.”
“I’m too tired to fight food right now.”
Tim shared a look with Alfred before turning back to Danny. “Okay then. Maybe sleep first and then eat?”
“I will go start making something now that you’re all set up here Mister Danny.” Agent A states, walking past the medical curtains and shutting them behind him. Red pulled out a tablet and started tapping on it. He noticed Danny’s eyes on him after a moment.
“You going to sleep?”
“Strange place, strange people. Not sure that’s the best decision here.”
Red looked up from his tablet.
“You trusted me enough to come here. Trust me enough to sleep. I will make sure no one but me or A comes in before you’re ready.”
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