#AWWW HES SO SWEET | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hyperactively-me · 1 year ago

Note

It's cliché, but what if reader caught flu in Kastron? Idk why but to me it looks like country in the north, yk, cold and stoic king and queen from the land of sun. But my point is, reader gets sick, so sick that she collapses and everybody freaks out because they think it might be poisoning of their queen

omg i love this idea so much

Your home kingdom had never experienced winters like the kind in Kastron, where the seasons were known for their harshness and the relentless snowfall that blanketed the land. Back home, there was no snow in the winter season, just gray skies and cold air. But, here in Kastron, the winters were relentless. Feet of snow would pile up and snowstorms would overtake the kingdom. On a particularly calm day, you decided to go for a walk out on the palace grounds, just to explore the snow.

You ventured into the icy wilderness that surrounded your palace. Your homeland had never experienced such a breathtaking winter wonderland, and you were determined to explore every inch of it. That morning, you had pulled on some boots, wrapped yourselves in furs and coats and pulled on some thick gloves. You slipped out of the palace without letting anyone know, wanting to be left to your own devices. You wanted quiet alone time, anyway. You had been slaving away in the study most days now that it was too cold to go outside.

As the day wore on, the cold began to gnaw at your bones, and you reluctantly decided to return to the warmth and comfort of the palace. That evening, as you lay in bed, an unsettling chill settled over you.

When morning came, you awoke to a stifling bug in your throat. Your throat was scratchy, your nose congested, and your body ached from your trek through the snow. Weak and feverish, you summoned your strength to fulfill your duties for the morning. It was a battle getting dressed and ready for the day, your eyes drooping with an exhaustion that only comes from illness.

As the day progressed, you found yourself wrapped in your readings when Simon had let himself into the study.

“It’s lunchtime,” he says, pulling your book from your hands.

“Ah, I suppose it is,” you say, sniffling ever so slightly.

Simon accompanied you as you made your way to the dining hall for lunch. The aroma of hearty seasonal foods filled the air, but your appetite had abandoned you. The weight of your illness pressed upon you, and you shivered with chills. You let Simon pull your chair out for you, and you practically drop into the seat as you sit down.

As you attempted to eat, the sickness tightened its grip. Shivers wracked your body, and sharp muscle and body aches made every movement painful. Dizziness washed over you, the sickness engulfing you entirely.

“Simon—” you slur.

With a feeling of overwhelming sickness, you collapsed at the table, and the world around you faded into darkness as you lost consciousness.

. . .

You don’t know how long you’ve been out for. Your consciousness swirled in the darkness, fading in and out. As awareness slowly crept back, you found yourself lying on something soft. It was very nice, very plush, more comfortable than your own bed. Your eyes flutter open, your eyelids feeling heavy. You were in a dimly lit room, the soft glow of candlelight flickered, casting shadows along the dark walls.

“Thank God you’re awake,” a voice whispers, relief evident in his voice.

“She’s awake,” a different voice yells out, and you groan from the volume.

“Go fetch the doctor.”

Weak and disoriented, you managed to speak, your voice hoarse and feeble. “What… happened?”

You fully open your eyes now, blinking away the fuzziness from your vision. Simon is sitting in a chair next to the bed. Two guards stand watch at the door. You look back at him, his balaclava is gone. His worry etched deep lines across his features, a frown present on his face. His hand gently rested on yours, his touch reassuring.

“Where am I?” you ask.

“My chambers,” he says gently, his hand squeezing yours lightly.

You try to push yourself to sit up, but his hand reaches to gently push you back down.

“No, no, lay down.”

You take a look around the dimly lit room, noting the sparse decoration of the large room. “What happened?” you ask again, letting him nudge you back down to resting.

Simon's expression remained somber as he recounted the incident. “You collapsed at the dining table during lunch.”

“Oh.”

“We thought you were poisoned,” he added solemnly, shifting in his seat. “Specifically, we thought your food was poisoned.”

A shiver ran down your spine as Simon's words settled in. Poisoned? It was a disconcerting thought, even in your fevered state. “Poisoned?” you repeated, your voice filled with confusion and worry.

Simon nodded, his eyes locked onto yours. “Yes, there was a moment of panic. But after an examination, it was clear that it wasn't poison. The doctors said you’ve contracted the flu.”

Relief washed over you at the revelation. The idea of poison had been unsettling, but the flu, while serious, was something that could be managed and treated. You couldn't help but wonder how a simple walk in the snow had led to such a dire situation.

“The flu,” you mumbled, still feeling disoriented.

Simon's grip on your hand tightened, and he offered a reassuring smile. “Yes, the palace doctors have been attending to you. They said that you’ll make a full recovery in a week or so.”

You’re both quiet for a moment.

“I feel like it's fair to mention that there may still be talk that you’ve been poisoned, but we’re currently trying to quell the rumors.”

You let out a weak sigh and nodded.

“Thank you, Simon,” you whispered, feeling grateful for his presence and care. It was sweet, seeing him like this. Genuinely concerned. Caring. Thoughtful. It warmed your heart.

Just then, the palace doctor entered the room, carrying an assortment of remedies and a concerned expression. They began to examine you, asking questions about your symptoms and carefully checking your vitals.

As the days went by, you remained in Simon’s chambers, isolated to give you privacy and much needed rest and quiet. Every night, he would leave, off to sleep in a different room. During this time, you spent countless hours talking to Simon.

“Are you sure I can stay here?”

“I’m quite sure.”

“I– I’ve taken over your whole room, though,” you try to argue. You feel bad for monopolizing Simon’s quarters, especially whilst being sick. You shift under the blankets and cushions.

“If I didn’t want you in my room, I wouldn’t have carried you here myself.” His voice held a tone of finality.

During this time, you spent countless hours talking to Simon, strengthening the growing bond between you two. His loyalty and devotion had been unwavering throughout this ordeal, and you couldn't help but start to feel like your connection to him was strengthening.

“I brought you some books,” he says one day, carrying a stack of books in his arms.

You immediately perk up, pushing yourself up your pillows.

“So sweet of you,” you praise, clapping your hands with a smile.

He blushes slightly. “I think you’ll like these,” he says, setting the books down on the bedside table. You eagerly scan the titles and covers. It was clear that he had put a lot of thought into selecting them for you.

“You really knew which ones I would like,” you said, genuinely touched by his considerate gesture.

Simon smiled warmly, his eyes reflecting genuinity. “I've been paying attention,” he replied softly.

You smile at his words, appreciation running through you.

More days passed, and the doctors administered treatments and provided you with nourishing soups and herbal remedies. Slowly, but surely, your strength began to return, and the flu loosened its grip on your body.

“I’m finally starting to feel better, Simon,” you said one morning, pushing the covers off your body.

“That’s good,” he nods. “Very good.”

You push yourself off the bed, standing in front of him for a moment.

“Hey– are you sure you’re okay to stand–?”

You flashed Simon a reassuring smile as you stood on your own two feet, feeling a sense of triumph over the illness that had kept you confined to his bed for what felt like an eternity.

“I'm sure,” you replied confidently, though your legs wobbled slightly under the weight of your hardly used legs. “I've been itching to get up and move around for so long now.”

Simon, still concerned, extended his arm toward you. “Just in case,” he said, offering you support. Gratefully, you accepted his arm.

With a sudden burst of confidence, you gently pull Simon to stand in front of you. His brows furrowed in confusion. However, before he could voice his curiosity, you wrapped your arms tightly around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

Simon's initial confusion melted away as you pulled him into your embrace. His arms soon encircled you in return, and you both held each other close. It was a hug filled with unspoken words, a silent confirmation of the connection that had developed between you when you were sick.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you whisper, pressing your cheek against his chest.

Simon's arms tightened around you, and he rested his chin on top of your head.

“It’s not something I would ever think twice about,” he replies, voice warm.

You look up at him.

“I appreciate that, I really do. I would do the same for you,” you say quietly, running your hand up and down his back.

Simon smiles down at you, his eyes filled with affection. “I know you would,” he says softly, his thumb gently stroking your back.

You nod, your heart feeling lighter.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

#awww #so sweet so cute #he's so bbg #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley x you #hyperactivelyme

776 notes · View notes