#Best Cough Drops For Sore Throat

[raaorqtpbpdy]

As much as I hate being sick it must be acknowledged that I am a goddamn expert at it. I know all the most effective medicines and all the techniques to get the most out of them. I know what foods to eat and how to avoid debilitating aching. And perhaps most importantly I know how to not spread it around.

I had a bad cold last month and managed not to get anyone else sick at all despite living in a 3 bedroom house with seven people and sharing a room. My sister got sick this week and literally two days later had passed it on to the entire house. Girl I love you, but get on my level.

[kilojulietsierra]

"Oh Sweet Irony "- Dr Jack Abbot x Reader

Summary: You hate doctors, and will do just about anything to avoid seeing one even if you're sick. A fact that your boyfriend Dr. Jack Abbot sometimes finds very annoying. This time though, you're miserable and you cave to his request, "Let me take care of you."

TW: most of my content is considered 18+ content, sick fic, comfort fic, medical inaccuracies, fluff, inappropriate workplace behavior but the PG kind, I wrote this sick and I think Dr. Abbot would def make me feel better just saying...

(Special thank you to the gif creator for the above because DAMN)

~~~~~~

Jack maneuvered his way through the packed waiting room and had to fight to hear you over the phone, "Well, hon, if you feel as bad as you sound you need more than NyQuil." He sidestepped a stoller, "No, it's not helping. I can tell." He made the corner and hugged the wall on his way to the doors, "Just come in and we can get you something that will actually do some good." He waved to the girls behind the glass and mouthed a thanks as he heard the security doors buzz and the lock disengage, "I know… I know… No, I'm not going to let you sit in the waiting room." He gives Bridget and exapserated look as he approaches the hub, "Hon, please, just come down. I'll tell the girls up front you're coming and they'll let you right in." He dropped his bag in his chair and swiped his badge to clock in, "Ok, well… it's either that or stay home tomorrow and I'll come over when I get off work." He nods, "That's what I thought. I'll see you when you get here. Love you."

~~~~

You felt like shit. All week you had been fighting off some sort of bug, the worst of it Monday after you got home from work. You thought that would be the end of it. The stuffy nose, cough, sore throat was really no big deal. NyQuil and DayQuil became your best friends. A week later and that cough just wouldn't quit, your stomach hurt from the constant coughing and chest spasms, you could hardly breathe, barely sleep more than a couple hours now without waking up to a coughing fit so violent you thought you might throw up.

Jack had been busy all week, his schedule and yours just couldn't line up and he'd been stuck late most mornings. You had told him, vaguely, that you didn't feel great but didn't want him to worry. Then he had called you on his way home, and you had not been able to hold back the coughing fit.

So, he had told you to call him after work and let him know how you were feeling, because he knew you wouldn't skip work. Now, here you were sneaking your away around the edge or the PTMC Emergency waiting room fighting back your anxiety and another coughing fit.

You hesitated a little the closer you got to the doors but one of the women at the admissions desk behind the glass saw you and waved. You chewed your lip and stepped a little closer with a careful smile. She waved you on through and you heard the buzz and clunk of the security doors. You can feel the burn of the glares and the muttering behind you as you pulled the heavy door open and stepped through.

Bridget saw you almost immediately and meets you halfway for a hug, "Hey sweetie."

You gave her a smile and a half step back, "Oh, don't hug me, I'm gross."

"Oh please, come here." She gave you a hug and then looked you over, "We just got a call for a code coming in, so he might be a minute okay."

"You guys are busy, I should just go."

"Not a chance." She tugged you towards the hub, "You just sit right here and I'll get you some water."

You sit in one of the office chairs and slouch back into it trying to take up as little space as possible. Bridget came backi a moment later with a bottle of water and a North Face jacket you recognized as one of Jacks. The ED was always chilly and you were grateful for the warmth and familiar scent as you shrugged into the slightly too big jacket.

Outside you hear the sirens as the ambulance arrives and Jack appears out of nowhere in full work mode.

You hated doctors, but this one you think, this one you certainly didn't mind.

From your chair behind the counter you watched as he quick stepped down the hall and as terrible as felt and as much as you didn't want to be here, it was kind of fun to see that side of him. The confident, collected and in charge Dr. Jack Abbot was the exception.

Jack sees you on his way by and even in the midst of chaos while calling our orders he takes half a second to catch your eye and give you just a hint of a smile without missing a beat.

~~~~~~

"Hey sweetheart," Jack says softly as he approaches and squats down in front of you, "C'mere." He pulls the chair closer so he can take a good look at you. He hasn't seen you all week and he feels like shit because you look miserable. He gives your leg a squeeze as he stands, ignoring the way his knees catch and pop, "Bridget, can you get a,"

"Six is all set up for you."

Jack gives her smile and a nod as he takes your elbow to help you stand up. While one hand never leaves your elbow he grabs a tablet with the other and guides you into the room.

"Don't forget to leave that door open Dr. Abbot!" Bridget teases from behin.

You turn to give her a look and then Jack, "Is there an HR complaint or something I should know about?"

Bridget snorts behind you as Jack just gives you both a side eye. He pinches your side and nudges you to keep walking, "Policy. No male doctors alone in rooms with female patients."

"Lame, next you're going to tell me we're not allowed to sneak off to have a quickie int the on call room like on Greys Anatomy."

Bridget laughs louder behind you and Jack just gives you a look.

You give him a wink and a little smile but the urge to laugh triggers another coughing fit and reminds you that you're not just here to say hi.

~~~~~~

In the exam room he helps you out of your jacket and up to sit on the bed. "I didn't check in or anything."

Abbot leaned against the counter, "Had Bridget sign you in." He gave you a soft smile as he watched you try not to fidget. He pulled up your patient file and had to bite the inside of his cheek because there was something about putting his own name in as your emergency contact that still got him. More and more he also found himself thinking about seeing his last name there instead of yours. He also couldn't wait to get you on his TRICARE because your employers health insurance fucking sucks. "You okay if I do everything myself?"

When you nod he can see that you're still anxious.

He puts in your info. He knows your personal information, height and weight, your medical history, he knows your anxiety meds dosage and all. "Your period started last Sunday right?" He smirks at you when you still blush but nod. He checks the box next to sexually active, he entertained the thought of asking you just to see you blush a little more, then types in 'partner vasectomy' in the line by birth control method.

Once everything was filled in he set the tablet down and washes his hands in the sink. He forgoes the gloves because it's you. Part of him wants to be able to feel you, part of him knows his touch will feel better for you than the latex.

He feels a little weird taking your temperature and bp because holy shit it has been a long time since he hasn't had a nurse to do the initial work up. Jack rests the back of his fingers against your forehead while he waits for a temp. "Little high." He says softly, long before the thermometer gave him a read out and showed he was correct. Your temperature is a little high. "Okay so far?" He asks as he puts the machine away and catches your eye. His fingers stroking up and down your forearm.

You nod, "You'd make a good nurse." You tease and then cover your mouth as another chest racking cough takes over.

The quip makes him crack a grin as he rubs your back through the coughing fit. "I'm going to listen to your lungs okay?" He waits for your nod before he pulls his stethoscope down and catches the way your eyes track the routine action and the way his forearms flex with the movement. "Ok, sit up straight for me and take a couple deep breaths." He goes through the motions, front and back, listening to your lungs and frowing. He rubs your back while he's still standing close and whispers, "Good girl." He drapes his stethoscope around his neck again as you cough and fight through a shuddery breath. "You take anything in the last few hours?"

"No," You shake your head, "Had a feeling you were going to make me come in."

"I won't make you do anything hon, you know that."

"You know what I mean." You're so tired that the urge to lean into him.

He sees it and nods, give you another smile, "I'm going to take a look at your throat okay?" When he grabs the scope and a tongue depressor he steps up in front of you and pauses. The two of you lock eyes for a second and he shakes his head, "Don't make me say it."

You bite your lip and try not to laugh because you know it'll just make you cough. "Make you say what Dr. Abbot?" You know Jack is unflappable, often stoic wilth a killer poker face, and your dislike for doctors aside, you enjoy that you can make this one blush just that little bit.

Jack never does say it, but the look he gives you says plenty. So does the way he smooths the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip when he's done. He sets the tools down on the tray, "Head up for me, just going to feel right here." The way he holds your neck, feels for swelling, is so clinical and second nature that he wouldn't think anything of it if he hadn't seen the way your eyes flickered. So, sue him if his touch lingered a little, or if he traced the line of your throat with his thumb just to see those pretty eyes flutter one more time.

He know he shouldn't be standing between your legs like he is, and he sure as hell shouldn't set his hand on your thigh when he says, "I'm going to call for a chest x-ray."

"What? Why?" Your panic rises, the anxiety back in full force.

The hand on your leg squeezes and then he slowly begins to stroke his knuckles over the top of your thigh in a soothing, repetitive motion. "You're okay, just want to be safe. Your lungs sound like trash and I just want to rule out pneumonia." He appreciates the ability to be straighforward and say things more bluntly than normal. He also appreciates that you trust him enough to calm down quickly. "I'll set you up with a nebulizer while you wait, going to help you breathe a little easier. I'm going to pull some labs too." He reiterates, "Just to be safe."

You try not to fidget while he preps the needle and the blood tubes.

"You're okay hon, it's just one poke. I'm good at this promise." He gives you and wink. "You want me to hold your hand?"

You scoff which turns into a cough, "Don't you need both hands?"

Jack shrugs, looks you in the eye, "I can do it with one."

"Please don't."

With another wink he sets your arm where he needs it, "Quick and easy I promise." Each touch is long and slow, smooth and lingering. He uses every ounce of practice and skill he possesses to make it as painless as possible for you. "There you go." He strokes the sting of the needle away with his thumb until you finally look his way again.

Brdget knocks and pokes her head in, "Respiratory is here."

Jack nods and looks back to you, "Big, deep breaths on that until radiology comes down with the portable, okay?" He tips your chin up for a kiss, but you hesitated.

"I'm gross."

"Don't give a shit." He gives you a quick kiss and strokes his thumb over your brow. "I'll be back to check on you soon as I can." One more kiss, to your forehead this time and then he's on his way out of the room. As he passes he gives Bridget a look.

"What?" She plays along, tries not to smirk, "I didn't see anything."

Once Jack is out of the room Bridget helped you get comfy on the bed with a blanket fresh out of the warmer.

"You know, I don't understand why the patient satisfaction is so low around here."

"Sweetie, the only satisfaction that man gives two shits about, is yours."

After a beat you both break into a laugh which triggers another coughing fit. Taking that as their cue RT came in to set you up on the nebulizer. Then all you could do was wait.

~~

After that Jack got busy again and you tried to tamp down the anxiety as the minutes dragged on,as you finished the nebulizer treatment, as radiology came and went. There was little worse in your opinion than laying alone in a hospital bed, but Jack had been right the nebulizer had helped your breathing and you were coughing less.

The longer you were in there the more you actually began to wonder about those terrible patient satisfaction scores everyone was always complaining about because every single person you had come into contact with that night had seemed to go above and beyond. The rad tech, the respiratory tech, every single nurse that stopped in to check on you. You were beginning to wonder if there wasn't some sort of big, red alert by your name that said; "ABBOT"S GIRLFRIEND DON'T FUCK IT UP".

A soft knock at the door startled you out of your thoughts and you sit up a little more as Jack comes in.

"How ya feelin'?"

"Ready to go home."

"I know hon." He props a him on the edge of your bed and rubs your leg through the blanket, "Rads and your bloodwork came back. Bronchitis. Just a little infection in your bronchial tubes, right here," He gestures to the general area on his own chest, "Usually takes care of itself if you take it easy."

You nod, "Which… I did not do."

He gives your calf a squeeze and his lips tick up in a smirk, "No, you did not. Which is why I'm sending you home with a goodie bag full of meds which you will take until they're gone. And, when I say home, I mean my house. Ellis is writing you up a doctors order right now to send to your boss."

"Jack…"

Completely unphased he continues, "While you're at my place for the next few days you will do as little as possible. Am I clear?"

You looked up at him, "Is this the part where I'm supposed to say yes sir and salute?"

Jack relaxes as soon as the words are out of your mouth. He shakes his head slightly and smooths his hand over your leg again, "Sorry." He meets your gaze and softens his expression, "Just promise me you'll take it easy. Let me take care of you."

With a slight cough you reached out for his hand, and smiled as he took it, stroked his thumb over the back of your knuckles. "I'm willing to bet you're not the greatest patient either, so you can't give me that much shit."

That gets him to smile, "Ready to go home?"

"Yes please."

Jack helps you sit up and slide out of the hospital bed, then helps you back into his jacket. "Ok, go home, my place," he emphasizes, "Take a good hot shower, take your meds and go to bed." He goes to guide you out of the room, but you tug him to a stop. "What's wrong?"

You bit your lip, "Thank you." Your voice was soft and a little apologetic.

For just a minute there was no hint of Dr. Abbot, he was just your boyfriend Jack. "C'mere." He pulled you in close and wrapped you in a hug, pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He chuckled, pressed another kiss to your temple and whispered, "See, coming to the doctor isn't so bad is it?"

You smile besides yourself and lean into him, "Depends on the doctor."

He walked you out to the hub and one of the nurses caught him right away, "We have a shooting victim eight minutes out."

Just like that Dr Abbot was back. "Ok set up trauma one, someone call OR give them a heads up." He turned back to you and softened, "I'll see you at home." Even in the middle of his ED, trauma en route, Jack gave you a smile and a quick kiss. "Go get some rest."

You nodded and watched as he turned to get back to work. Then with a smile of your own you turned to Bridget, "So, when do I get to fill out that patient satisfaction survey?"

~~~~

[flux1563]

The Best Beast Party

Words : 11k

Minju opened her eyes first, the light from the crack in the curtains piercing the darkened room. Her vision was blurry, her eyelids heavy with fatigue. She took a deep breath, the pain of her bruised ribs reminding her of the night's events. Chaewon's hand was still in hers, a silent testament to their unspoken pact to face this week together.

Slowly, Chaewon stirred beside her, her eyes fluttering open. She took in the room, the mess of discarded clothing and the empty bottles scattered around, a silent monument to their endurance. The air was thick with the scent of sex, a musky aroma that clung to their skin like a second layer.

"Last night was fucking wild," she murmured, her voice hoarse from screams that had long since turned into whimpers. Minju couldn't help but chuckle, the sound strange and foreign in the quiet aftermath. "You can say that again," she replied, her voice equally ravaged by the night's excesses.

They stumbled back to the bed, their legs barely holding them upright. As they collapsed onto the clean sheets, the reality of their situation began to sink in. "I think our holes are broken," Chaewon whispered, her voice tinged with a mix of humor and horror. Minju's laughter was cut short by a wince, her own pussy feeling the truth of those words.

The silence that enveloped them was strange, a stark contrast to the cacophony of the party outside. The villa was their sanctuary, a place where they could recover before the next round of debauchery began. But as Minju lay there, her thoughts began to race. What would this night bring? Would they be able to endure another round of relentless fucking?

As if on cue, the door creaked open, and the local men filed in, each one carrying a small, gourd-shaped bottle filled with a traditional potion. The room grew quiet as they approached the bed, their eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and something else - something primal. Chaewon's hand tightened around hers, a silent warning.

"What's this?" Minju asked, her voice trembling slightly. One of the men stepped forward, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "It's a local aphrodisiac," he said, his accent thick. "To keep you ready for the night ahead."

Chaewon's eyes grew wide with apprehension. "Another round?" she whispered. The man's smile grew wider. "Oh no," he corrected her, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "This isn't just another round. This is the main event. We are going to fuck you both, non-stop, until the seventh night."

Before Minju or Chaewon could protest, the men grabbed their heads, forcing the potion down their throats. The liquid burned, a fiery path of desire that seemed to ignite every nerve ending in their bodies. They coughed and sputtered, trying to resist, but the men were insistent, holding their mouths open until the bottles were empty. The potion was unlike anything they had ever tasted, a mix of sweetness and heat that seemed to pulse through their veins.

As the last drops slipped down their throats, the women felt a strange energy fill them. It was as if every cell in their bodies had come alive with a newfound purpose, a hunger that went beyond the physical. Their eyes grew wide with shock as they felt their muscles tighten, their sore pussies contracting with need once again. The room spun around them, the air thick with anticipation.

The local men wasted no time, their cocks already hard and eager as they descended upon the two friends. The moaning started almost immediately, a symphony of pleasure that grew louder with each passing moment. Minju felt her body stretched to its limits as she was filled in every way possible, the sensations overwhelming her senses. Her pussy clenched around the cock inside her, the friction sending sparks of pleasure through her body.

The cameras rolled, capturing every second of their degradation. The flashes of light pierced the darkness, a silent reminder that they were not just giving themselves to the men, but to an audience of unknown faces. Yet, in that moment, it didn't matter. All that existed was the pleasure, the pain, and the overwhelming desire to come.

The men took them in every conceivable way, pushing them to their limits and beyond. Chaewon's eyes rolled back in her head as she felt a cock slide into her ass, the stretch making her scream. The potion had done its work, and she could feel her body's natural resistance melting away, leaving only the need for more. The golden shower rained down, the warmth of the urine mixing with the stickiness between their legs as they squirted in unison.

The night grew wilder, their bodies a canvas for the men's desires. The air was thick with the scent of sex, the sounds of their moans and the slapping of flesh echoing through the room. They were no longer roommates, no longer idol. They had become something else entirely, creatures of pure, unbridled lust.

The potion's effects grew stronger, their bodies responding in ways they had never thought possible. Each orgasm seemed to fuel the next, a never-ending cycle of pleasure that left them both breathless. Minju felt herself being passed from one man to the next, her pussy and mouth never empty, the taste of cum becoming as natural as the salt in the air.

The room grew blurry, the faces of their lovers indistinguishable in the strobe light of the cameras. Yet, through the haze, she felt a strange sense of belonging, a connection to each and every one of them that went beyond the physical. It was as if they had all become part of a single, pulsating organism, each beat of their hearts a testament to their shared desire.

The night was an eternal loop of fucking and moaning, the line between pleasure and pain blurring until it was impossible to tell one from the other. They were the entertainment, the prize that every man sought to claim. Yet, amidst the chaos, Minju and Chaewon remained the calm center, their friendship the unspoken bond that kept them anchored to reality.

As the men took them, the two friends held onto each other, their eyes meeting in silent communication. They were in this together, surviving this week-long gauntlet of sexual excess. Each time one of them screamed, the other would whisper words of encouragement, their intertwined fingers a silent promise that they would not be broken.

And as the night grew long, as the men grew tired and the potion's is work, the room grew quiet. The cameras were still rolling, but the applause had died down to a murmur. Chaewon and Minju lay there, their bodies sticky and bruised, their hearts racing with the aftermath of their experience.

Minju's eyes searched the darkness, the flicker of the candles casting eerie shadows on the walls. "I can't believe we're still going," she whispered to Chaewon, her voice a raspy croak. Chaewon's response was a weak smile, her eyes glazed over with exhaustion. "The potion," she murmured, her body twitching with the aftershocks of another orgasm. "It keeps us... alive."

The local men had taken them to a new level of depravity, their hunger for the women insatiable. Each night brought more extreme acts, more men eager to claim their prize. The fourth night was no exception, as the gangbang continued with an intensity that seemed to defy the very fabric of their beings. They had become sexual marionettes, dancing to the tune of the potion that coursed through their veins.

Their screams had long ago turned to whimpers, their bodies no longer their own. They were the living embodiment of desire, their every hole filled without pause. The men took them in every conceivable way, their hands rough and demanding. The air was thick with the scent of sex, their cries muffled by the pillows shoved into their mouths.

The fourth night grew longer, each minute stretching into an eternity. Their bodies were a tapestry of bruises, their spirits waning, yet the potion's power held them aloft. The men grew more aggressive, their movements more punishing as the night wore on. The camera flashes pierced the darkness like strobe lights in a nightclub, capturing every grimace and tear. Yet, through it all, the two friends remained intertwined, their bodies a tangle of limbs and sweat.

Minju's eyes grew glazed with pain and pleasure, her mind a haze of sensations. She had lost count of the men who had claimed her, of the ropes of cum that filled her to the brim. Chaewon, equally spent, lay beside her, her body a mirror of Minju's own. The men took turns, switching between the two, ensuring that neither was left without attention for too long. Each thrust brought a new wave of agony, yet it was an agony they had come to crave, a testament to the depths of their transformation.

Their pussies, once tight and untouched, had been stretched to their limits, the delicate folds now gaping and sore. Yet, the potion kept them lubricated, their bodies responding with a hunger that seemed never to be satiated. The men's faces were a blur of lust and determination, each eager to leave his mark on the two sex-crazed goddesses. They whispered sweet nothings in their ears, praising their stamina, their beauty, their willingness to submit.

The room was a sea of writhing flesh, the air thick with the scent of cum and sweat. The mattress beneath them was soaked, the sheets sticking to their bodies like a second skin. They were no longer the shy, reserved women who had arrived at the villa a week ago. They had become the embodiment of sexual excess, living out the darkest fantasies of their guests. And as the night grew quiet, the only sound the heavy breathing of the exhausted men, Minju and Chaewon clung to each other, their hearts pounding in unison.

The fifth night brought with it a new level of intensity. The men had heard whispers of their legendary endurance, and they were eager to test it to the fullest. The room was filled with a mix of locals and partygoers, each one eager to have his turn with the infamous duo. The air was charged with excitement, the tension palpable as the first cock slid into Chaewon's willing mouth.

Minju felt a strange mix of fear and exhilaration as she watched her friend, her own pussy already being filled by two other men. They had become a well-oiled machine, their bodies responding almost instinctively to the needs of their partners. The potion had not just heightened their desires; it had transformed them into sexual beings who knew no limits.

The men took them without mercy, pushing their bodies to the brink of exhaustion. They were used in every way conceivable, their screams a siren's call to the next round of eager participants. The cameras rolled on, capturing every moment of their degradation. Yet, amidst the chaos, their eyes met, a silent promise that they would not break.

The night grew darker, the candles flickering with each new round of lust. The air was thick with the smell of sex, the sound of their moans a constant backdrop to the rhythmic slapping of flesh. They had become the heartbeat of the party, the pulsing center of an orgy that seemed to have no end. Each orgasm brought with it a mix of pain and pleasure, their bodies trembling with the force of it all.

And as the fifth night bled into the sixth, the men grew bolder, their eyes gleaming with a feral hunger. The potion had not just given them endurance; it had also stripped away any semblance of humanity. They were animals now, driven by a primal need to breed. The local men had become their handlers, their bodies a playground for the guests' desires.

The women were pushed beyond their limits, their cries of pleasure turning to screams of pain as the men grew more brutal. Yet, even as their bodies protested, the potion kept them coming back for more, their pussies clenching around the cocks that filled them. The room was a blur of faces, each one more depraved than the last.

But amidst the chaos, there was a strange comfort in the familiarity of each other's touch. Chaewon's hand in hers, the taste of her cum on their lips, the feel of their bodies moving together. It was a bond that could not be broken, a friendship that had been forged in the fires of passion.

And so, they continued, their bodies a battleground of pleasure and pain. Each new day brought with it a fresh round of challenges, as the local men pushed them further than they ever thought possible. Minju and Chaewon had become the heart of the party, the main attraction that no guest could ignore. They had transcended beyond mere entertainment; they were now the essence of the event, a living embodiment of carnality that drew everyone in.

Their eyes met often, a silent conversation that spoke volumes. They had become a single entity, a beacon of desire that drew the men to them like moths to a flame. Each thrust, each slap, each bite brought them closer to the brink, yet they never fell. The potion had made them more than mere mortals, their endurance a thing of legend.

The days blurred together, a never-ending cycle of fucking and cum. They had lost count of the number of men who had filled them, the number of times they had come. Their bodies bore the marks of their triumphs, bruises and bites that painted a map of their journey into the abyss of pleasure. Yet, with each new dawn, they rose from the bed, ready to face whatever the night had in store for them.

The sixth night was the most brutal yet. The men had grown more daring, their appetites whetted by the sight of the two friends' unbreakable spirit. They were no longer content with mere penetration; they sought to claim them in every way imaginable. The women were bound, their bodies contorted into positions that defied logic, their cries of pain echoing through the villa. Yet, the potion held them aloft, their bodies responding even as their minds begged for respite.

The local men had become more than just their handlers; they were now their protectors, ensuring that no one took things too far. They whispered to the guests, their voices low and commanding, setting the boundaries that even in their most debauched moments, Minju and Chaewon could not. It was a strange, twisted dynamic, but it was one that kept the two friends safe amidst the sea of lust that threatened to drown them.

As the sixth night drew to a close, the local men gathered around the bed, their faces a mix of awe and concern. They had never seen anyone last this long, never seen a woman take so much and still crave more. The potion had transformed them into something otherworldly, something beyond human understanding.

Minju and Chaewon lay there, their bodies trembling with the aftershocks of their latest orgy. The candles had burned low, their wax pooled on the floor like the cum that surrounded them. They were exhausted, their spirits frayed, yet the potion's warmth kept them from succumbing to the darkness.

The local men spoke in hushed tones, their eyes on the two friends. They had seen the change in them, the way their bodies responded even when their minds were spent. They knew that the potion had unlocked something deep within them, a power that could not be contained.

The final night approached, a crescendo of desire that had been building for a week. The partygoers were eager for the grand finale, their whispers of anticipation filling the villa. The local men had planned something special, something that would ensure the women's legend would live on long after the party had ended.

Minju and Chaewon lay side by side, their bodies a canvas of bruises and cum. They had become more than just sexual icons; they were the very essence of the party, their endurance a symbol of what could be achieved when one embraced their deepest desires.

The final act was one that would push them to their absolute limits. The local men had concocted a potion even stronger than the last, one that would make the final night a testament to their power. They would be taken by every man at the party, their bodies offered up in a ritual of lust that would leave them forever changed.

The two friends looked into each other's eyes, the unspoken question hanging in the air. Could they endure one more night.

"You're sure you want to go through with this?" Chaewon's voice was a whisper, the exhaustion clear in her tone. But Minju's gaze was steely, a mix of determination and something else, something that scared Chaewon more than the thought of the men's brutal embrace.

"We've come this far," she murmured, her own voice hoarse from days of screaming. "We can't stop now."

The final night began with a frenzied energy that seemed to electrify the very air. The local men had concocted a new potion, one that promised an intensity that would dwarf the previous nights' excesses. As they were led to the makeshift stage, their wrists bound together, the crowd grew quiet, their eyes glinting with anticipation.

The first cock slid into Minju, and she gritted her teeth, bracing for the pain. But it never came. Instead, she felt a warmth spread through her, a sense of power that made her body quiver. The second cock followed, and then the third, filling her completely. Her pussy stretched around them, welcoming them in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

Chaewon watched, her heart racing as she felt the potion's effects take hold. Her pussy clenched in anticipation, her body already responding to the sight of Minju's plight. And then, it was her turn. Two cocks pushed into her, the feeling of being filled so completely washing away any last vestiges of doubt or fear.

They were both mounted, the local men taking turns, their thrusts synchronized to an almost balletic degree. The camera flashes were a constant, blinding reminder of their newfound status as sexual icons. The air was thick with the scent of cum and sweat, the only sounds the grunts of the men and the wet, slapping noises of flesh meeting flesh.

The night went on, each hour more intense than the last. They were fucked by two cocks at a time, their pussies stretched to the brink of pain and beyond. Yet, the potion kept them coming back, their bodies responding with an unquenchable thirst for more. The crowd watched, their eyes glazed with lust, as the two friends were claimed by the men, their cries of pleasure a symphony of surrender.

But as the twelfth hour approached, the local men had a surprise in store for them. "It's time for the final act," one of them murmured, his eyes gleaming with excitement. The potion was administered again, this time with a twist. They could feel it coursing through their veins, a burning sensation that grew stronger with each passing minute.

The men positioned themselves, two at each of their asses. Chaewon felt the first cock push inside her, the sensation so foreign and yet so right. She gasped as the second cock followed, filling her completely. The pressure was immense, the pain sharp and intense, but the potion's power kept her going, her body responding to the intrusion with a hunger she had never known.

Minju felt the same, her ass stretching to accommodate the two thick cocks that claimed her. The pain was exquisite, a white-hot brand seared into her very soul. Yet, she knew that this was the culmination of their journey, the ultimate test of their endurance. They had become more than just sexual playthings; they were now the embodiment of the party's dark desires, the living proof of what the potion could do.

The men took them without mercy, their thrusts growing more urgent with each passing moment. The room was a whirlwind of sensation, their asses pounding in a rhythm that matched the beat of the music. They had become the heart of the orgy, the focal point of everyone's lust.

And as the twelfth hour approached, the local men grew more daring. They had pushed them to their limits, and now they wanted to break them. The potion had changed them once again, their bodies now craving the most extreme acts. Chaewon felt the pressure building inside her, the need to come unlike anything she had ever felt before.

The room grew darker, the only light the flicker of the candles that surrounded them. The air was thick with the scent of sex, the sound of their bodies colliding with the men's a cacophony of desire. They were no longer just roommates and business partners; they had become sexual beings, living and breathing for the pleasure of others.

The men grew more aggressive, their strokes more punishing as the night reached its climax. The pain was almost unbearable, but the potion held them in its thrall, their bodies responding with a fervor that seemed almost supernatural. They were no longer in control, their every move dictated by the men who held them down.

The twelfth hour struck, the sound of the clock echoing through the villa. And with it, the final act began. The men pulled out, their cocks glistening with the girls' juices. They had one last challenge for them, one last act of debauchery that would seal their fate as sexual icons.

The local men lined up, their cocks hard and ready. The two friends were lifted, their asses presented to the eager crowd. And then, without a moment's hesitation, the first man pushed his cock into Chaewon, followed quickly by the second. The room erupted in cheers as they both took them, their bodies quivering with the intensity of the sensation.

Minju felt the same, the pressure in her ass unlike anything she had ever experienced. Yet, she pushed back, eager to take more, to feel the full force of the men's desire. The potion had changed them, made them crave the most extreme acts. And as the final hours of the party ticked away, they gave in to the darkness, their bodies a testament to the power of lust and the endurance of the human spirit.

The local men had one final act in mind, a performance that would be remembered for years to come. They whispered to each other, their eyes gleaming with excitement as they lined up before the bound and exhausted duo. Chaewon felt the first warm stream of piss hit her face, the sting of it shocking her out of the haze of pleasure and pain she had been lost in. She gasped, her eyes wide with surprise, as the second and third streams followed, the men's urine mixing with the sweat and cum that already coated their bodies.

Minju's eyes snapped open as the same warmth hit her, the sensation jolting her back to reality. She had never felt so humiliated, so utterly used. And yet, she found herself pushing back into the streams, the sensation of the warm liquid on her skin strangely arousing. The crowd roared with approval, their cheers and claps urging the men on.

The men took turns, pissing on them as they lay there, their bodies writhing with the last vestiges of pleasure. It was a moment that would be etched into their memories forever, a symbol of their complete and utter surrender to the party's dark desires. The potion had made them more than just sexual icons; it had transformed them into creatures of pure carnality, their every move a dance of debauchery.

And as the last stream of piss fell upon them, the local men stepped back, their cocks still hard. They had one final challenge for the two friends, one that would push them to the very edge of their limits. "You will come," one of them growled, his voice thick with lust. "You will come for us, or the potion will not release you."

The room grew quiet, the anticipation palpable. The two friends looked at each other, their eyes filled with a mix of terror and determination. They had come so far, endured so much. They would not fail now. With a shared nod, they focused their energy, their bodies responding to the challenge.

The men took their places, their cocks sliding into the girls' open pussies once more. The sensation was overwhelming, the mix of pain and pleasure almost too much to bear. But they pushed through, their bodies moving in time with the music, the rhythm of the fucking becoming a part of them.

And as the sun began to rise, casting a golden glow over the villa, they felt the potion's power wane. The room was still, the men waiting with bated breath. And then, it happened. Chaewon's body tensed, a scream ripping from her throat as she came, the orgasm so intense it was almost painful. Minju followed, her pussy contracting around the cock inside her, her eyes rolling back in her head.

The crowd erupted in a frenzy of cheers and applause, their cries of "More! More!" echoing through the room. Yet, the local men held back, their eyes on the two friends, their bodies still, their breathing ragged. They had achieved the impossible, survived the week-long orgy, and had come out the other side, forever changed by the experience.

The potion had done its work, the final act complete. The local men stepped back, their job done. The two friends lay there, their bodies spent, their hearts racing. They had pushed themselves to the brink and come back for more, their friendship a testament to the power of desire and the strength of the human spirit.

As the partygoers slowly dispersed, leaving the villa to the quiet of the morning, Minju and Chaewon remained bound to each other, their bodies a tapestry of bruises and cum. They had become more than just sexual icons; they had become the embodiment of the party's deepest, darkest desires.

The sun peeked through the windows, casting a soft glow over the room that seemed to illuminate the stark reality of their situation. The potion's grip on them was loosening, the warmth of its power slowly fading from their veins. The quiet was a stark contrast to the cacophony of the night, a gentle reminder that the world outside continued to turn without them.

With a silent nod of understanding, Minju and Chaewon managed to untangle their bodies from the mass of limbs and discarded ropes, their movements careful and deliberate. The sticky mess of cum and sweat that clung to their skin made their skin crawl, but the potion's effects still held sway, their pussies contracting with a need that was almost painful. They stumbled to the bathroom, their legs unsteady, their eyes glazed with a mix of exhaustion and the lingering haze of pleasure.

Minju reached for the shower handle, her hand trembling with the effort of turning it. The cool water sprayed out, the droplets hitting their bodies like a slap in the face. The potion's warmth dissipated instantly, and with it, their invincibility. They fell to the floor, their legs giving out beneath them, the tiles cold and unforgiving against their bruised flesh. The room spun, the walls closing in around them as reality set in.

Two of the local men, their faces gentle and concerned, stepped forward, immediately recognizing their distress. They scooped the girls up with surprising care, their strong arms cradling them like precious cargo. Chaewon felt a strange comfort in their embrace, the touch of skin against skin a reminder that she was still human, still alive. They carried them to the massive tub in the center of the bathroom, the water already drawn and scented with soothing oils.

The men lowered them into the warm embrace of the water, the heat enveloping their abused bodies like a soft blanket. Minju let out a sigh of relief, her eyes closing as the water caressed her bruised flesh. The local men stepped back, allowing them privacy, as they whispered words of praise and admiration in their native tongue. The respect in their voices was unmistakable, a stark contrast to the brutal passion of the night before.

For a moment, there was silence, the only sounds the gentle lapping of the water and their own labored breathing. The potion had worn off, leaving them feeling as if they had been run through a gauntlet of lust. Every inch of their bodies ached, a symphony of pain that was a stark reminder of the week's events. Chaewon leaned against Minju, their bodies fitting together like two puzzle pieces, each one bearing the marks of their shared ordeal.

As the warm water soothed their abused flesh, the reality of their situation began to sink in. They had survived the week-long sexual marathon, their bodies pushed to the brink and beyond. The friendship that had brought them here had been tested, stretched to its limits, and emerged stronger than ever.

"It is 7 pm, 12 hours since your brutality moment," Chaewon murmured to Minju, her voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air, a gentle reminder of the harrowing night that had just passed.

Minju's eyes snapped open, focusing on the reflection in the mirror. The once pristine bathtub was now a cesspool of cum, a stark reminder of the relentless pounding they had endured. Their bodies were a canvas of bruises, each mark telling a story of the unbridled passion they had experienced. They stared in horror and disbelief at the sight, their eyes wide with shock.

"I...I can't believe it," Minju managed to murmur, her voice trembling. "We did this."

Chaewon nodded, her eyes unfocused, lost in thought. "Yeahh, we're so shocked," she echoed, the weight of their words hanging heavily in the air.

The water around them grew murky, a testament to the excess of the night. It was a strange feeling, floating in a tub filled with the evidence of their shared experiences. The cum that surrounded them was a tangible reminder of their endurance, a symbol of the unyielding desire that had fueled the week. Minju's hand gently traced the curve of her belly, feeling the slight bulge that remained despite the countless men who had emptied themselves into her. The feeling of fullness was both disturbing and oddly satisfying.

They had become living embodiments of sexual excess, and as the water grew warmer, so too did their thoughts of the week. The potion had heightened their desires to a level that seemed unattainable, a realm where pain and pleasure had become so intertwined that they were indistinguishable. Chaewon's hand followed suit, her fingers ghosting over her own bruised flesh, feeling the sticky residue of the potion's aftermath.

"Look," she whispered, her voice a mere breath, "the water is contaminated by the cum inside us." The words were a stark reality check, a reminder of the depraved acts they had willingly participated in. Despite their exhaustion, the potion had left a lingering ache, a hunger for more that was insatiable. The tub was a stew of their collective lust, a physical representation of the carnage their bodies had endured.

They watched as their abdomens gently bulged and contracted, the last remnants of the potion's power pushing the excess cum from their bodies. It spurted out of them in thick ropes, staining the once-clear water a murky white. The sight was both repulsive and fascinating, a grim testament to their endurance. They had become living vessels for the men's desires, their bodies a canvas for the darkest of fantasies.

"Look at us," Chaewon murmured, her voice filled with a strange mix of pride and horror. "We're still full of their cum, even after all this."

Minju nodded, her eyes glazed over with the memory of the countless orgasms that had left her feeling both drained and oddly powerful. The potion had done more than just drive them to sexual heights they had never known; it had changed them on a fundamental level. The sperm didn't come all out, it was a part of them now, a part of their shared experience that had bound them tighter than any friendship could.

With trembling hands, she spread her legs, revealing the gaping, bruised hole that had been her pussy. It was swollen and red, the edges stretched to the point that it was barely recognizable. Chaewon's gaze followed, a mix of shock and awe etched on her features. "Look at this," Minju whispered, her voice cracking with a mix of pain and pride. "So wide...so open...I never knew it could be like this."

Chaewon nodded, her eyes meeting Minju's in the mirror. "Yeah, mine too," she said, her voice a barely audible murmur. She spread her legs as well, displaying the mirror image of Minju's condition. Their pussies were a stark contrast to the pristine marble of the tub, a silent declaration of the depraved ritual they had endured.

With a deep sigh, Minju pulled herself from the tub, her body leaving a crimson trail in the water. She stepped onto the floor, the cold tiles sending a shiver through her body. She was covered in a thick layer of cum and sweat, her bruises standing out like a dark map against her pale skin. Chaewon followed, her movements just as tentative.

They stumbled into their bedroom, the sight before them a testament to the wildness of the night. The bed was a tangled mess of sheets and discarded clothing, the floor littered with condom wrappers and used toys. The smell of sex was overpowering, a heady mix of sweat, cum, and desire that seemed to cling to every surface.

Minju reached for her phone, her hand shaking as she dialed the number of one of the local men who had been attending to them all week. "We need clean clothes," she managed to say, her voice hoarse from the night's screams. "Please, something to wear."

The man on the other end of the line responded in a calm, soothing tone, his voice a balm to their frazzled nerves. "Of course," he said, and she could almost hear the smile in his voice. "I'll bring some shirts for you both."

The door opened, and in walked two of the local men they had grown to know over the past week. Their eyes took in the scene before them: Minju and Chaewon, standing in the center of the room, their legs shaking, bodies trembling. Despite the horror of their condition, the men's gazes held a hint of admiration, a nod to the unbreakable spirit that had driven them through the relentless marathon of sex.

They approached the women with gentle steps, as if afraid to disturb the delicate balance that held them upright. The men took in the sight of their wide open pussies and asses, the cum still spurting out of them in a slow, almost hypnotic rhythm. It was a sight that was at once disturbing and fascinating, a testament to the potion's power and their unyielding desire.

The men knelt before them, offering soft cloths to clean the sticky mess that covered their legs. Their touch was tender, almost reverent, as if they were caring for a pair of fragile, precious dolls that had been played with too roughly. Chaewon took a deep breath, her chest heaving as she leaned into the touch, the sensation of the cloth against her skin sending a shiver down her spine.

The men worked in silence, their movements efficient and practiced. They had seen this before, had been a part of this ritual countless times. Yet, there was something different about Minju and Chaewon, something that set them apart from the other women who had come before.

As they were being tended to, the friends couldn't help but exchange a look of disbelief and awe. They had pushed through the most intense week of their lives, and somehow, they had emerged on the other side, still standing. The potion had broken them down, reshaping them into sexual goddesses, but their bond had remained unbroken, a silent bastion of friendship amidst the chaos.

Finally, the men stood up, offering them shirts that hung like oversized dresses, covering their bodies from neck to thigh. The fabric was soft and cool against their skin, a soothing balm after the relentless assault of the night. They pulled the shirts over their heads, the material sticking to their cum-drenched skin, but the modesty was a welcome change from their earlier exposure.

"Thank you," Minju murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. The man nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "You did well," he said, his voice filled with a warmth that seemed out of place in the aftermath of their weeklong ordeal. "You are truly the most... incredible women we have ever seen."

The compliment brought a hint of a smile to her lips, despite the pain and exhaustion that still lingered. Chaewon looked over at her, her eyes still filled with a mix of shock and horror. "Yeah," she managed to croak out. "Thank you."

The two friends looked at each other, their eyes speaking volumes. They had come to this island seeking escape, but what they had found was something else entirely. They had pushed the boundaries of their friendship, their bodies, and their very selves.

As the men left the room, the weight of their situation settled heavily upon them. "What do we do now?" Chaewon asked, her voice shaking.

Minju took a deep, shuddering breath. "We go home," she said firmly. "We've done what we came here to do."

The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the reality that awaited them outside the villa's walls. The party was over, and the world they had left behind was beckoning them back.

The man returned, his expression serious. "I think it's best if we take you to the airport," he said gently. "You need to leave before the effects of the potion wear off completely. It's not safe for you to stay any longer."

The gravity of his words sent a chill down Chaewon's spine. They had become too much a part of the island's dark underbelly, too entwined in its depraved rituals. It was time to leave, to return to their lives, forever changed by the week that had just transpired.

Minju nodded, her resolve unwavering. "Yes," she agreed. "Take us home."

The man nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. He knew what they had been through, knew the depths of their depravity. And yet, he treated them with a gentle respect that seemed almost out of place.

They gathered their belongings, their bodies moving slowly, as if afraid that any sudden movement would shatter the fragile illusion of normalcy that had been cast over them. The clothes clung to their bodies, a constant reminder of the excess they had indulged in.

The drive to the airport was a blur, the scenery outside the window a stark contrast to the chaos they had just left behind. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the island that seemed to belie the darkness they had just experienced.

As they boarded the plane, their bodies still sore, their hearts heavy with the weight of their memories, they held hands, a silent promise that they would get through this together. The flight home was a blur, the hours passing in a haze of pain and reflection.

When they finally stepped off the plane, the cool air of home a stark contrast to the tropical heat, they looked at each other, their eyes filled with a mix of relief and regret. They had survived the week, but the scars it had left on their souls would take much longer to heal.

The man who had brought them to the airport had given them a small vial of the potion as a parting gift, a reminder of their time on the island. They had hidden it in their luggage, unsure if they would ever be brave enough to use it again.

As they walked through the bustling airport, their heads held high despite their bruised and battered bodies, they couldn't help but feel like they had left a part of themselves behind. The potion had changed them, made them crave the very things that had once repulsed them.

But as they disappeared into the crowd, their friendship stronger than ever, they knew that no matter what the future held, they would face it together, forever bound by the unspoken truth of what they had endured.

The flight home was a silent journey, the weight of their experiences heavy in the air between them. They clutched their carry-ons tightly, the hidden vial of potion a silent reminder of their shared secret. The cabin lights flickered on, signaling that they were about to take off, and with trembling hands, they each took a swig from the small bottle, the potion burning a path down their throats.

As the aircraft climbed, the potion began to take hold. Minju felt a familiar warmth spread through her body, the same sensation that had fueled their week of excess. She looked over at Chaewon, her eyes questioning. "Are you still squirting a little bit right now?" she asked, the words barely a whisper.

Chaewon nodded, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. The potion had left them with an insatiable need, a hunger that gnawed at their very core. They had become so attuned to the sensation that even the slightest arousal brought forth a gush of fluid, a reminder of the men who had claimed them so thoroughly.

Their eyes met, and in that moment, they both knew that the potion had not only changed their bodies but had also forged a bond that transcended friendship. They were bound now, in a way that no one else could ever understand. They had shared something so intimate, so primal, that it had redefined the very essence of who they were.

As they sat in the quiet cabin, the hum of the engines a distant lullaby, they couldn't help but feel the potion's aftermath. The sensation of their pussies and asses being stretched beyond their limits still lingered, a constant reminder of the men who had claimed them so thoroughly. They shifted in their seats, the fabric of the airplane chairs rubbing against their sore, swollen flesh.

"I can still feel it," Chaewon murmured, her eyes never leaving Minju's. "Like it's...still open for them."

Minju nodded, her own gaze reflecting the same haunted expression. "Yeah," she agreed. "It's like it's...broken."

The word hung in the air between them, a stark reminder of the physical toll their week of excess had taken. Their pussies, once tight and untouched, had been stretched and pounded until they were nothing but gaping holes, begging for more.

The flight attendant walked by, casting a quick glance at the two women. She couldn't help but notice the way they sat, legs slightly apart, as if their bodies were still trying to accommodate the men who had claimed them so completely.

The potion had left them in a state of perpetual arousal, their bodies craving the very thing that had brought them such pain. They shifted in their seats, trying to find a comfortable position that didn't make their bruised flesh scream in protest.

"Is your pussy broken, too?" Minju asked, her voice filled with a mix of curiosity and concern.

Chaewon nodded, her eyes never leaving Minju's. "Yeah," she whispered. "It's like it's stuck open, begging to be filled."

The admission brought a flicker of something dark to Minju's eyes, a hunger that she didn't fully understand. The potion had changed them, had broken down the walls of their inhibitions, leaving them vulnerable and exposed.

The flight attendant brought them their drinks, her eyes lingering on their flushed faces and trembling hands. She knew what had happened, had heard the whispers of the island's darker rituals. Yet she offered them a small, knowing smile, as if to say, 'I understand'.

As they sipped their drinks, the potion's warmth grew stronger, their bodies responding to its call. The plane hit a patch of turbulence, and their grips tightened on the armrests. The jolt sent a shock of pleasure through Minju's body, and she bit back a moan.

"It's okay," Chaewon whispered, her hand reaching over to cover Minju's. "We're going home now. We'll get through this."

The promise of home was a beacon of light in the sea of darkness that had consumed them. Yet, as they stared into each other's eyes, the potion's grip on them was undeniable. They had become something more than friends, something more than mere survivors.

They had become a testament to desire, their bodies forever altered by the week's depravity. And as they sat there, miles above the world that had no idea of the horrors they had endured, they couldn't help but wonder if they would ever truly be able to leave the island behind.

The potion's effects grew stronger, their bodies betraying them even as they willed themselves to ignore the need. The ache in their pussies and asses grew with every passing moment, the dull throb of pain and pleasure an ever-present reminder of what they had become. They shifted in their seats, trying in vain to find comfort amidst the discomfort, their legs involuntarily spreading wider.

The other passengers on the plane began to cast curious glances their way, the scent of sex clinging to them like a second skin. They were a spectacle, a living embodiment of the darkest of human appetites. And yet, amidst the judgment and the stares, they found solace in each other's presence.

Their friendship had been the only constant in the chaos, the only thing that had kept them grounded in reality. They had become each other's confidants, each other's strength, each other's release. The potion had taken so much from them, but it had also given them a bond that was unbreakable.

As the plane descended, the pressure in their ears mirrored the pressure building in their bodies. The need for release grew stronger with every passing second, the potion's power a relentless force that demanded to be satiated. They could feel themselves getting wetter, the fabric of their shirts sticking to their skin, a silent testament to their arousal.

The potion was like a living entity within them, a parasite that fed on their very essence, demanding more and more. Yet, even as they succumbed to its power, they knew that they would never truly be its slaves. They had chosen this path, had embraced the darkness, and had emerged on the other side, forever changed but still in control.

The wheels touched down, the jolt of the landing sending a bolt of pleasure through their bodies that was almost too much to bear. They stumbled off the plane, their legs unsteady, their hearts racing. The air outside was cold, a stark contrast to the heat that still lingered within them.

Minju turned to Chaewon, her eyes wild with desperation. "We can't go home like this," she said, her voice urgent. "We need...something to help us through this."

Chaewon nodded, understanding in her gaze. They had talked about it in hushed whispers during the flight, the fear of the potion's lasting effects a constant undercurrent in their conversation. They couldn't face the world, couldn't go back to their normal lives, not like this.

They found themselves in a small, dimly lit sex shop in the airport's lower level, the neon lights flickering over aisles filled with every imaginable adult toy. Their eyes scanned the shelves, searching for something that could fill the void the potion had left behind.

Minju reached for a display case, her hand trembling as she pointed to the row of vibrants. "We need more," she said, her voice shaking. "One isn't enough anymore."

Chaewon nodded, her eyes glazed with a mix of pain and desire. "Yeah," she murmured. "I know."

They each picked out four of the largest vibrators they could find, the shiny black surfaces a stark contrast to their trembling fingers. They handed over their credit cards, the cashier's eyes never leaving their faces. He knew the look of desperation, had seen it countless times before.

Once in their apartment, the shirts were the first to go, revealing their bruised and swollen breasts. The pants followed, pooling at their feet like discarded armor. They stepped out of them, their legs wobbly, the fabric sticking to their cum-covered skin.

"Look," Chaewon whispered, pointing to the mess on the floor. It was a stark reminder of the party's aftermath, a puddle of evidence that seemed to stretch from Africa to Korea, a testament to their week-long marathon of sexual conquests.

Minju couldn't help but laugh, a dark, humorless sound that echoed through the room. "Yeah," she said, her voice filled with a mix of disbelief and horror. "The sperm from the party didn't end yet."

Their laughter grew, a cathartic release that bubbled up from the depths of their souls. They had survived, had come through the other side, and now they faced the reality of their transformation. The potion had left them with a never-ending craving, a hunger that gnawed at their very core.

They stood there, naked and exposed, their bodies a canvas of bruises and cum. The vibrators they had bought at the airport beckoned from the bed, promising a temporary reprieve from the relentless ache that consumed them.

They looked into each other's eyes, the silent understanding passing between them. They had become more than just friends, they were now partners in a twisted dance of desire and pain.

"Look at you, Chaewon," Minju said, her voice a mix of awe and disbelief. "Your pussy and ass are so... pathetic," she couldn't help the smirk that tugged at the corners of her mouth. "They're wide open, I can still see the squirt of joy coming out."

Chaewon's cheeks burned with embarrassment as she glanced down at her own reflection. The potion had indeed done its work, leaving her body forever changed. Her once tight, untouched holes now gaped open, a stark reminder of the men who had used her so roughly. Yet, she felt a strange sense of pride in her newfound vulnerability.

"And look at you, Minju," Chaewon retorted, her voice filled with a hint of spite. "You're just as broken as I am."

They both laughed, the sound echoing through the room, a bit too loud, a bit too desperate. The vibrators lay on the bed, gleaming in the dim light, promising an escape from the pain and the never-ending hunger. They were a symbol of their new reality, a tool to navigate the treacherous waters of their transformed desires.

They approached the bed, their bodies moving in sync, their eyes never leaving each other's. The potion had taken them to the brink, had shattered their inhibitions, leaving them open to a world of pleasure and pain they had never dreamed possible.

They picked up the vibrators, their hands shaking with anticipation. The cold plastic was a stark contrast to the heat that still simmered between their legs. They turned them on, the buzzing sound a siren's call to their desperate bodies.

Chaewon took a deep breath, her hand trembling as she guided the two thick toys into her ass, feeling the stretch and burn as they filled her. She gritted her teeth, the sensation both agonizing and exhilarating. With a grimace, she pushed the third vibrator into her pussy, the vibrations echoing through her body, a symphony of pain and pleasure.

Minju mirrored her action, her eyes never leaving Chaewon's. The sight of her friend, so vulnerable and open, filled her with a mix of arousal and protectiveness. She pushed her own vibrators in, the pressure intense, the vibrations resonating through her core. They both moaned, their bodies protesting and welcoming the intrusion at the same time.

The room was filled with the sound of their whimpers and the buzz of the toys as they found their rhythm, their hips moving in a slow, synchronized dance. They had become a single entity, their boundaries blurred by the potion's power.

As they twisted the vibrators, the pain grew, morphing into something almost unbearable, yet they pushed through it, driven by the potion's relentless hunger. They had become addicted to the sensation, craving the intensity that only this extreme form of pleasure could provide.

Their eyes met again, and in that moment, they knew that their friendship had been irrevocably changed. They had become more than just confidants, more than just survivors. They were now a duo, bound by their shared experiences, their bodies forever linked in this dance of depravity.

The potion's grip grew stronger, the vibrations from the toys a constant reminder of the men who had claimed them. Yet, as they pleasured themselves, they found a new kind of power, a control over their own bodies that they had never known before.

Their breath grew ragged, their movements more erratic, as the orgasm built. They were in a race against time, trying to outrun the potion's hold, to find some semblance of release before the pain became too much.

As they neared their peak, the potion's effects began to wane, the vibrations no longer enough to hold off the ache. They could feel the potion's grip loosening, the intense high giving way to a cold, empty feeling.

They stared at each other, desperation in their eyes, knowing that without the potion's power, the pleasure they sought was just out of reach. The vibrators fell from their trembling hands, forgotten relics of a lost world.

"We can't do this without it," Chaewon whispered, her voice laced with despair. The realization hit them both like a ton of bricks, their bodies trembling with the need for something more.

"We have to find a way," Minju replied, her eyes never leaving Chaewon's. The potion had become their crutch, the only thing that could fill the void that now consumed them. But the potion was gone, and with it, the intense pleasure they had come to crave.

The room was filled with the scent of sex, the air thick with the musky aroma of their arousal. They had squirted countless times, their bodies drenched in their juices, but it was never enough. The potion had made them insatiable, their desires a bottomless pit that could never be filled.

"Ahh, I'm squirt again," Minju moaned, her voice a mix of pleasure and frustration. She looked down at the growing wet spot on the bed, the evidence of her body's betrayal. Her pussy spasmed, trying to clench around the vibrator, desperate for the fullness she knew she could never achieve without the potion.

Chaewon nodded in silent understanding, her own body trembling with the effort to control the potion's aftermath. She inserted another vibrator, feeling the stretch as it pushed past her bruised and swollen flesh. "Me too," she managed to gasp out, her voice strained with need.

Together, they continued their frantic movements, the sound of their wet bodies slapping against each other a rhythmic counterpoint to their desperate moans. The potion had turned them into sex goddesses, but without it, they were mere mortals once again, trying to fill a void that seemed insatiable.

But as the potion's influence faded away, something else began to take its place. The pain and pleasure had left a mark on them, a hunger that could never truly be satisfied. Yet, with each passing moment, the realization grew stronger—they didn't need the potion anymore. They had become addicted to the intensity of their shared experiences, and that was a high that no amount of potion could replicate.

They collapsed onto the bed, the vibrators still lodged inside them, the buzzing now a distant echo of the ecstasy they had once felt. The room spun around them, the darkness closing in as their bodies succumbed to exhaustion. But in the midst of it all, they felt a strange sense of peace, a calm that came from knowing they had survived the week's depravity together.

Their breathing slowed, the air thick with the scent of their desire. They lay there, tangled in the sheets, their bodies still pulsing with the potion's aftershocks. The pain was a ghost now, a fading memory that lingered in the shadows of their minds.

Minju's eyes fluttered closed, the vibrator inside her pussy buzzing a gentle lullaby that seemed to resonate through her very soul. She felt faint, the effort to maintain control over her own body now too much to bear. The vibrator slipped from her trembling grasp, the buzzing a fading whisper in the quiet room.

Chaewon lay beside her, her breaths coming in shallow gasps, her chest heaving with the exertion of their desperate search for release. The vibrator in her ass remained lodged, the constant throb of pleasure a reminder of the potion's cruel trickery. Her eyes rolled back, the world fading to black around her.

Minju's vision swam, the vibrator in her pussy pulsing a gentle goodbye as she succumbed to the potion's aftermath. Her limbs felt heavy, the weight of their week's indulgence pressing down on her. The vibrator slipped out, landing with a wet thud on the floor, a silent testament to their futile attempt at normalcy.

Three days passed, the apartment a silent tomb to their excess. The potion's final gift was a deep, restorative sleep that seemed to stretch on forever. When they finally awoke, the stench of their desires hit them like a wave. The air was thick with the smell of sex and squirt, a constant reminder of the week that had claimed them.

"Did we just squirt while we slept?" Chaewon said, her voice filled with shock. She sat up in bed, her eyes wide with disbelief as she surveyed the stains on the sheets. The evidence was undeniable—the potion had left them with a persistent reminder of their ordeal, an ever-present ache that no amount of rest could ease.

Minju stirred beside her, blinking sleep from her eyes. She took in the sight of their discarded vibrators, the remnants of their desperate attempts to find relief, and the wetness that had seeped into the mattress. "I think we did," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

The reality of their situation hit them like a sledgehammer. The potion had changed them, made them crave the extreme. They had become sexual creatures, bound by their shared experiences, forever altered by the week of depravity.

They looked at each other, the weight of their transformation heavy in the air between them. The shock slowly gave way to something else—a newfound sense of camaraderie, a bond forged in the fires of their darkest moments.

Their friendship had evolved into something more intimate, a partnership of shared pain and pleasure that no one else could ever understand. They were linked now, bound by a desire that was both a curse and a gift.

They knew they couldn't go back to the way things were before. The potion had taken too much from them, had claimed them in a way that was both terrifying and exhilarating. But as they lay there, entwined in the mess of their new reality, they also knew that they didn't want to.

The potion had given them a taste of power, of control, and they were hungry for more. The week had been a test of their endurance, but it had also been a revelation of their desires, a door that had been thrown wide open to a world of pleasure they had never known.

They climbed out of bed, their legs shaky, their bodies sore. The ache between their legs was a constant presence, a reminder of the emptiness that now consumed them. But they moved with purpose, driven by the hunger that had become a part of them.

They showered together, the warm water cascading over their bruised and cum-stained skin, washing away the last traces of the potion. They touched each other gently, tenderly, as if afraid of breaking the fragile bond that had formed between them.

The water turned pink as their bodies cleaned, the evidence of their week-long marathon swirling down the drain. Yet, even as they scrubbed themselves clean, they knew that the potion had left an indelible mark on their souls.

They stepped out of the shower, their skin pink from the hot water, their hair plastered to their faces. They dried off, the towels rough against their tender flesh, and looked into the mirror.

"Look, Chaewon," Minju said, her voice filled with a mix of wonder and horror. She parted her legs, showing the gaping hole that was once her vagina. "My pussy still can't close."

Chaewon's eyes widened as she stared at her friend's reflection. The sight was a stark reminder of the potion's power, the way it had transformed them both. Her own bruised and stretched pussy was a mirror to Minju's, a silent testament to the week's events.

"We're...different," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. The words hung in the air, a mix of awe and fear.

Minju nodded, her gaze unflinching. "Yes," she said. "We are."

The words hung in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken understanding that had grown between them. The potion had taken their innocence, their self-control, but it had also given them something else—a bond that was as raw and powerful as the desires that now consumed them.

"Do you think we'll ever be normal again?" Chaewon asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Minju looked down at the gaping hole between her legs, a silent nod to the potion's lasting legacy. "I don't know," she replied, her eyes filled with a mix of doubt and resignation. "But I think our pussies need at least a month to recover."

Chaewon's gaze followed her own reflection, her fingers tracing the swollen edges of her labia. "Maybe longer," she murmured, her voice filled with a hint of sadness. "They're... so stretched out."

Minju's eyes narrowed, a fierce determination burning within her. "We'll find a way to fix it," she said, her voice firm. "We've come through worse."

They dressed, the fabric of their clothes sticking to their still-damp skin. The world outside their apartment was a blur, a haze of memories that seemed both distant and all too real. They had survived the week on the island, but now they faced a new challenge—how to live with the aftermath of their sexual odyssey.

Minju lay her body in bed, laptop in her chest, her eyes scanning the screen as if it held the answers she so desperately sought. Chaewon perched on the edge of the bed, her hand idly playing with the edge of the blanket. The silence between them was filled with the unspoken questions of what came next.

Her heart skipped a beat as she opened the email. It was from one of the men from the party, a video attached with a subject line that sent a thrill of terror and excitement down her spine: "Nights to Remember." She knew what it was before she even hit play. The thumbnails alone told a story, a story that had unfolded in vivid detail over the last week.

The video played, and there they were, in all their glory—the nights of unbridled lust that had claimed them both. Minju watched in horror and fascination as the screen revealed their every move, their every scream of pleasure and pain. The camera had captured it all, and now it was laid bare before them, a reminder of the power that had held them in its thrall.

Chaewon leaned in, her eyes glued to the screen, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. They watched as the men took turns, their faces a blur of ecstasy and agony as they were claimed over and over again. It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion—horrifying and impossible to look away from.

The videos were a stark reminder of the potion's power, the way it had turned them into creatures of the night, craving the very thing that had brought them such pain. They watched as their bodies stretched and contorted, their pussies swelling and gaping like hungry mouths, begging for more.

"Is that from the camera that night?" Chaewon's voice was a whisper of horror and fascination as she pointed at the screen. There it was, the moment they had lost themselves to the potion's will, their eyes glazed over with lust, their bodies writhing in ecstasy as the men took them in every conceivable way.

Minju nodded, her throat tight with emotion. "It's all there," she said, her voice a hoarse rasp. "Everything we did."

They watched, unable to tear their eyes away, as the scenes unfolded before them—their desperate attempts to find relief, the men's faces twisted in pleasure, the endless stream of cum that had filled them to overflowing. It was a record of their descent into madness, a visual diary of their most intimate moments.

The images were graphic, a raw testament to their week of depravity. They saw themselves, lost in a sea of sweat and cum, their bodies stretched to the breaking point. They watched as they pleaded for more, their voices hoarse from screaming, their eyes wild with an unquenchable hunger.

"Look at that," Minju whispered, her voice filled with a strange mix of excitement and horror. "Our faces, they're full of ecstasy even when we're fading."

Chaewon's hand drifted down to her still-swollen pussy, her fingertips grazing the tender flesh. The sight of their past selves, lost in the throes of passion, had stirred something within them—a hunger that seemed to have no end. "We were so...so desperate," she murmured, her eyes glued to the screen.

Minju felt the same stirring within her, a heat that seemed to radiate from her core. Her hand followed suit, her own fingers probing the gaping hole between her legs. "It's like watching someone else," she said, her voice filled with amazement. "But it's us."

They inserted the vibrators, the cool plastic a stark contrast to the heat that filled them. The buzz was a comforting presence, a reminder of the power they had once wielded so freely. Two in their asses, two in their pussies, they lay side by side, the pulsing rhythm of the toys a silent testament to their shared addiction.

Their eyes remained glued to the screen as they watched themselves, their bodies moving in time with the images before them. The vibrations grew stronger, the buzzing a symphony that matched the tempo of their racing hearts. The potion's power had been captured in digital form, a siren's call that drew them back into the abyss.

And as the videos played on, they gave in to the urge, their bodies responding almost involuntarily. They squirted, their juices mixing with the lube and the remnants of the potion that still lingered. The vibrations grew more intense, a crescendo of pleasure that seemed to build with each passing second.

The room was filled with the sound of their wetness, the squelching of their bodies as they moved in unison. The videos had become a guide, a map to the heights of ecstasy they had once known. They watched, their breaths coming in gasps as their bodies climbed towards climax once again.

The images on the screen grew more extreme, their past selves pushed to the brink of human endurance. Yet, even as they watched, they felt their own desires building, the potion's legacy a living entity within them.

"I can't believe we did all that," Chaewon murmured, her voice thick with arousal. She pushed the vibrator in her ass deeper, the stretch exquisite and terrifying. "But it feels so...good."

Minju nodded, her eyes never leaving the screen. "It does," she agreed, her own vibrator buried deep within her. "But we're in control now."

They moved together, the vibrations echoing through their bodies, a reminder of the potion's hold. They had survived the week, but the aftermath was a beast of a different kind—a hunger that no amount of vanilla sex could ever satiate.

Their bodies grew wetter, their pussies pulsing around the toys. They watched the depravity unfold before them, a silent nod to the monsters they had become. Yet, in the safety of their own home, they could explore the depths of their desires without fear of repercussion.

Their orgasms hit them like a tidal wave, a shared crescendo that seemed to shake the very foundations of the apartment. They came together, their bodies shuddering with the force of it all, the vibrations sending shockwaves through their abused flesh.

The videos played on, a silent judge and jury to their newfound addiction. Yet, as they lay there, spent and trembling, they knew that this was just the beginning. The potion had changed them, had shown them the darkest parts of themselves.

And as they lay in the aftermath of their climaxes, their eyes met in the mirror above the bed. There was a spark there, a determination that had not been present before. They had survived the week, but they had also discovered something within themselves that could never be ignored.

They had become sexual beings in a way that defied explanation, and as they lay there, their bodies still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure, they made a silent pact. They would not let the potion control them again, but neither would they deny the desires it had unleashed.

Their friendship had become something more, a partnership born from the ashes of their innocence. They had been to hell and back, and together, they had come out the other side changed, forever bound by the dark secrets of their week on the island.

The vibrator inside Minju's pussy slipped out, the buzzing a final farewell to the past. She turned to Chaewon, a knowing smile on her lips. "We're going to need a lot more of these," she said, her voice filled with a newfound sense of purpose.

Chaewon nodded, her own vibrator still lodged inside her. "But we can handle it," she replied, her eyes gleaming with the promise of a new chapter in their lives. "Together."

[moonstruckme]

Mae I am politely begging you for a hurt/comfort sickfic (specifically the food poisoning after a bbq because I totally don’t have something like that right now 😵‍💫) from that prompt for poly!wolfstar or marauders pleaseeeee pretty😭

Oof sorry you had to deal with that babe! Thanks for your request

cw: vomit, not entirely vague descriptions of vomit either so please be careful with yourself if that’s a trigger for you

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 606 words

“I’m so sorry,” says Remus, his hand wearing a path between your shoulder blades as you bend over the toilet.

You cough. Saliva strings embarrassingly from your mouth. “It’s not your fault.”

“No, it is,” Sirius says, though he kisses Remus’ cheek in apology.

“I know.” Remus manages to sound more miserable than you feel. You set a hand on his knee. It's the best you can do for comfort at the moment.

He squeezes it as though you aren’t the most disgusting creature alive, so it’s a fair trade.

“Do you want a tissue?” he asks softly.

“Yes, please.”

You’ve been sick on and off for hours. You don’t know how it keeps coming on so violently, but it's bad enough that you have to blow your nose every now and then to get rid of the excess. Your stomach is a wreck, sore and overworked to the point that you’ve begun shaking with exertion every time you have to lean over the toilet again. All brought on by some seemingly undercooked ribs Remus made for your barbeque yesterday. Your boyfriends have spent last night and most of today sitting vigil with you on the bathroom rug.

After you discard your tissue, your stomach makes a loud noise of upset and you bend, groaning.

“This is so humiliating.”

“There’s nothing humiliating about needing some help from your very loving boyfriends,” Sirius chides you lightly, standing up to refill your cup of water. “What else are we good for?”

“Don’t answer that,” Remus murmurs. He smiles when you chuckle weakly. It’s worth the brief ache in your abdomen.

“I can hear you conspiring,” Sirius hums as he crouches back by your side. “Do you think you’re done being sick for now?”

You nod, taking the water from him. It feels pleasant and cool on your throat.

“Slow, love,” Remus reminds you. You listen, taking smaller sips until the cup is empty.

You take a breath, relieved when your nausea doesn’t immediately worsen. Your eyes fall on Sirius.

He squints playfully. “What?”

“Hm?”

“Don’t hm me. You want something.”

You look at him through your lashes, sheepish. “Could you do that thing again?”

Only Sirius could make a scoff sound so fond. “You only ever have to ask, sweetness.” He moves closer behind you, nudging one of Remus’ legs out of the way. “Scoot, perpetrator.”

Remus does scoot, and though you shoot him an apologetic look you can’t bring yourself to regret your request when Sirius settles his hands surely over your middle. He pushes gently on the softest part of your stomach. An involuntary whimper rises in your throat.

Sirius tsks softly. “Okay?”

“Yeah, sorry. It’s nice.”

He chuckles. “That’s okay, baby.”

You let yourself go lax for a while, Sirius all but holding you up as he pushes and prods at your tormented abdomen. Sighs and the occasional whimper float past your lips. When you crack your eyelids, Remus is nearly asleep with his back against the wall.

“Sorry for making you guys stay here,” you mumble. Hesitant to disturb the peace, but it has to be said.

Remus speaks without opening his eyes. “You’re not making us do anything, lovely. It’s not your fault my ribs were bad.”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I’m the only one who got sick, maybe it wasn’t even them.”

Sirius hums. “Not quite true.”

You and Remus both look at him questioningly.

“James said Reg started feeling queasy this morning.”

“Oh, god.” Remus drops his head to his knees. “I’m sorry.”

Sirius reaches for Remus’ hand, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “You are lucky you’re so cute.”

[namjooningera]

Hi, first timer here. May I humbly request for a drabble with Yandere Nanami wherein his darling gets sick and tries to avoid Nanami, but fails and gets coddled in return

You absolutely may!

Yandere JJK react to you being sick

Characters: Nanami, gojo, geto, Toji

Tw: sickness, forced physical touch, poisoning (?) 👀

AN: I decided to go with all the characters cuz I actually like this prompt! However nanamis will be longer since you asked for him specifically :D btw y’all I’m thinking of adding Choso! Tell me what y’all think ;)

Nanami:

You cough and shake, body trembling. Nanami’s at work, you know that because he isn’t on his side of bed. His watch and phone have been picked off the nightstand, the windows were sealed shut again, and the clock on the night stand buzzed with the numbers

11:23 am.

It’s late. Well, sort of. It’s the late where you don’t usually wake up. Sure you don’t wake up as early as Nanami does, but you at least wake up before the afternoon.

Before, you’d wake up as early as possible, well, when you had a life, that is.

But your sniffling, your nose is clogged and your body aches. Your throat, restricted. You can barely swallow down that dry saliva because dammit your throat aches. You need some water to smooth your sore throat, but you find the glass at the night stand completely empty.

You slowly crawl out of bed, on all fours, body weak and mind empty. You’re tired, you feel dirty, and you feel like you could pass out.

You basically limp to the kitchen with your glass in your hand, at any point knowing you could drop it. It’s just so heavy in your weak hand, and it fucking slips.

It slips onto the floor and shatters. You sigh, staring at the broken glass on the floor. No worries! Right? You’ll pick up a broom and clean it up later.

That’s a future you problem

Amongst all the other problems you have. You get another glass from the cabinet, filling up your cup and downing the water. It hurts so bad, like a shards going down your throat but the slight relief it gives, helps.

But you can’t stand for long, your bottom hitting the kitchen counter, hands grabbing the edges for support. You stumble into it, trying to move, but your eyes get blurry.

Your body is weaker, your vision is weak, eyes droopy and legs starting to give out.

It’s fine- you’re fine. Is what you tell yourself. You can’t let Nanami know about this. He’ll take care of you- then his ego will boost ten fold. He’ll probably get more clingy and desperate, protective. He won’t let you go for a second then after your no longer sick, he’ll think he has some control over you know. That you owe him. That’s what you think anyway. Not that he actually cares about you (oh he certainly does), but you’d like to keep it in your head that he’s being fake, that he’s a bad man. Because you know as soon as you realize his actions are purely out of love, that he loves you, perhaps you’ll actually start to gain empathy for him. Feel emotions.. you shouldn’t.

He was your favorite coworker, best friend. You grew up with him, or at least from high school. He’s taken care of you before, but now you just don’t trust it.

Your back, starts to slide down the kitchen counter, and you hazily sit against the kitchen cabinet. You look at the time.

“11:46 am”

Ok great, he won’t be back until 7 right? That’s how it normally is if he has some out of city mission.

But your eyes get droopy, your dizzy, your vision is blurred, mouth dry and oh-

Your head is heavy and falls over onto the floor. You’re on your side, shivering. It’s hot but your also shivering, you can’t tell if your freezing or if your heating up. Your mind starts to shut down and so does your body- the sweat that drools down your forhead, the body heat that illuminates your skin.

You lay unconscious on the kitchen floor.

Nanami’s excited.

He’s able to come home early today. Around 3pm? He was so glad. It turns out this out of city mission was actually a lot simpler then told- or maybe it was gojo beating them before he could even arrive. Turns out gojo finished them off quick so he could have a chance to eat out in another city with Nanami. Nanami rolls his eyes at the thought. Luckily he was able to escape after a while of entertaining Gojo Satoru for that long. He could come home early to his darling and he was excited.

Excited to spend the mid-day with you too. He opened the door excitedly, a sliver of a smile adoring his face as he opened the door, bakery sweets in hand (he had to buy some to cope with Satorus constant crude comments).

“Sweetheart! I’m home!”

He says cheerfully, but his smile drops just a tad when you don’t come to the door to greet him. He just shrugs anyway, going off to the room to find you and tell you about his insufferable day, but feed you sweets and tell you, you make it all better.

But as he passes the kitchen, he immediately stops, his head is thrown in your direction and he sees you. On the floor.

You’re on the floor. Why are you on the floor? Why’s there broken glass? Did you hurt yourself? Purposely? On accident? He runs over, his feet sliding over the glass, he winces but ignored it, dropping on his knees, looking at your sweaty cold body. He was confused at the glass, his aching feet, your cold but heated body passed out on the floor.

“D-dear? My love?” He whispered. His voice lingered with panic, major panic actually, he was terrified.

“Dear please!” He raised his voice for the first time ever, breaking one of his own rules he had for himself.

Your ears are ringing, but your eyes finally start top open and you look up at him.

“N-Nanami..” even though your angry at him, furious, you look up at him, and you know the fear in his eyes are genuine.

And you see your best friend.

Your high school best friend. The sweet man from high school. Patient, kind, caring, quiet, your lovely best friend. The one that you.. had more then just friendly feelings for. I mean how could you not? He was so sweet and perfect. Always spoiling you, taking care of you, making sure you ate and we’re always well kept. He made you laugh too, unintentionally most of the time but still hilariously. And oh was he handsome. He’s always been, and it always made you wonder why he never dated. Never say anyone or had something as simple as a crush. You always thought it was probably because he was too busy, the jujutsu sorcerer life isn’t easy, it’s time consuming and utterly dangerous, no fit for a relationship.

You look up at Nanami. He’s your best friend. A year rolls down your eye, dropping to the floor.

“Sweetheart? Don’t cry? My love, what happened?” His voice was shaking, he was scared.

You haven’t seen him like this before.

Hah, no that’s a lie. You have. And it was.. quite.. violent.

And right before you got kidnapped.

You get it now.

He did do this, kidnapped you and all, for your own safety. To make sure he’d always have you his palms, his hands, so that you’d never break.

But look at you. Even now. Even though your in the safety of his home, his surveillance, your still ill and wounded.

Your shaky breaths leave your mouth and your lidded eyes look up at him. He swallows hard. He considers taking you to the hospital- but no. They’d take you away from him. But he’d also rather have you completely safe and hurt free. If letting you’d go meant you’d be better, then so be it.

But his hands shook as he went to touch you. He didn’t want you to leave. Once he lets you go you’ll be gone forever.

His hand caressed your cheek, a tear bubbling in his eyes, and that’s when you know. When you know what’s in his mind, what he’s thinking.

“I-I’m fine..” Your voice incredibly shaky and desperate.

Just get away. You think. Leave me alone. Fuck. You want him gone, you want this asshole- the idiot who betrayed you- who kidnapped you who hurt you- you want him gone and off your back.

“You’re not fine. Your not! Sweetheart I- what happened?”

“C-could be uh-“ you cough, “food poisoning?” Perhaps, but you’re unsure. You’re both unsure.

He picks you up. His arms shaking and feet stinging from the small shards of glass that stick up his heels. He carries you to your room, placing you softly on the bed with a shaky exhale leaving his lips.

His face is pale and sweaty, he looks more sick then you.

“I’ll call you an ambulance okay?” Shaky tears leave his eyes. He holds your hand tightly, towering over your spread body.

“W-wha?”

He sighs, a sad smile on his lips.

“I-if that’s what I have to do.. to.. stop this.”

You think. You could get away, have that chance. But you also think it isn’t worth it.

Looking up at your best friend, the tears leaving his eyes, that soft smile he’s looked at you with before. Fuck. You know there’s something deeper to this, he didn’t do all of this on purpose. His obsession, obsession with protecting you and shadowing you and god just his constant paranoia and possessiveness until he kidnapped you- it had to be at a fault not from him right?

And looking up at the man you called your alley, your best friend, your crush. You had to save him. Maybe then, once you do, you two could be normal again? You could learn to forgive him, he’d let you go, and heal. And once he healed.. perhaps you two could be something more? More than a forced relationship.

Your hand tightens over his. Barely, but he feels it.

“S-stay.”

His eyes widened and he looks down at you. “Honey? What?”

“D-don’t wanna go Kay? Can take care of m’self.”

He grumbled at that. “Absolutely not. Your body is heated to hell and your shivering. You look terrible.”

You huff. “Rude.”

“Dear please let me take you to a hospital? Or to get checked out at least, please?” He’s so desperate, it’d be sweet if it wasn’t for the situation you were in, with a lovesick yandere. But you knew he wouldn’t let you go until someone could heal and take care of you. You sighed to yourself.

“Just go buy some medicine? Will be fine…” you mumbled.

“Do you have to be so thick headed? I know you’re in pain. At least let me take care of you.”

“Just leave me alone!”

Your scream threw him back, stepping back from you. “I…I understand.”

He left the room, his eyebrows bunched up and his mouth in a scowl. You felt disgusting, but hoped some nap could help. A nap that would wake you up from this horrid shit, perhaps this was all a dream.

Alas, you wake up. And it’s not a dream. And you feel even worse, actually. Your throat is completely closed, you can’t speak for fucks sake, your entire body is covered in a thick inch of sweat and you feel sticky. Your clothes are too tight and your hair feels wet, sticking onto your forehead. Your stomach is empty but still feels twisted, and god your body is so weak. So weak you can’t get up, so weak you don’t think you can even move your hand to grab the glass of water on your nightstand.

Everything hurts. You can’t avoid Nanami now, you need him.

“N-Nanam…” your realize your voice is basically gone to dust, you can’t speak and you can’t call out for him, and that’s when the panic starts to set in.

What if he left the house and won’t be back until late night? What if he doesn’t come check on you? What if he’s so upset for you avoiding him and pushing him away so he doesn’t help you?

But as your thinking all these thoughts, the door slowly starts to crack open, you see some blonde hair peeking out and an eye.

“Nan…nana..mi..” his eyes widens and he ran over to you.

“You need me?”

It’s like he was waiting out there for you to call him, right outside the door until you wake up and asked for him. You push that thought to the back of your head.

“Sweetheart- your burning up even worse then before. Please, please let me take care of you at least. I’m begging you, my love.”

You grumbled, looking up at him from your pillow. The soft expensive fucking sheets that nobody should be allowed to buy, clutched and balled up in your sweaty hands.

“F-fine.” You mumbled.

He smiled, but not one out of happiness but out of relief. “I’ll be the best care taker you’ve ever seen, my love. You’ll be better in no time.”

Gojo-

Satoru is possible the worst man you could be sick around. He gets fucking clingy and won’t leave you alone for a second. Treating you like some newborn baby who needs the utmost care at every waking moment.

That’s why, when you feel a oh so familiar cough rise in your throat, a chill in your spine and a just lovely heat illuminating from your forehead, you don’t tell him.

You pretend like it’s not even there. You think it’ll pass anyway. It’s probably some cold, some small bug that you’ll get over in a few days.

But it’s not that easy, especially when the medicine cabinet is locked and Satoru barely leaves you alone.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” Your try to play off the fast you just chocked on your own disgusting heavy cough, as if you weren’t just about to puke from how gross and vile that cough felt.

You cleared your throat and continued to watch the TV. Satoru put on some lame show and you decided you had nothing better to do, so you plopped down on the sofa to watch, too. Well, plopped down on the entire other side of the sofa.

It’s funny though, he thinks you don’t see the way he slowly scoots over closer to you every second. It’s pathetic, really. But if you didn’t hate him so much you’d actually find it kind of endearing.

“Hey, uhh. You have any pain killers? Or just.. medicine.”

He looks at you suspiciously. “Why?”

“Just.. have a headache. You know..”

He raises his eyebrow at you but nods. “Follow me..”

He leads you out of the living and to the kitchen. Where he unlocks a cabinet with a key that he pulled out of who knows where.

He grabs some pain killers for your so called “headache” and while he’s taking a pill out, you sneak behind him and try to grab some cold cough medicine.

And obviously, you get caught immediately because who wouldn’t.

“I knew it! You are sick!”

“No! I just uhh..”

“You just uhh.” he mocks you. “You’re sick- I can see it all over your face. Can’t fool me.” He snickers, grabbing the cold couch medicine, and you, by the arm, and drags you to the living room where he forces you to situate yourself on the sofa while he stands.

“How long have you been sick?”

You shrug.

He scoffs. “Fine. You know what? Your not getting these,” he waves around the cough medicine, “until I get a hug. A hug for every pill you want.” He huffs and strikes his chin upwards, acting all mad and pouty.

“What? Your kidding. Satoru this isn’t funny.”

“It’s really not.” He answers.

“Fine. I’ll cough all over you and get you sick too.”

He huffed and bonked your head a few times. “Hey! You want the cough medicine or not? Don’t you wanna get better?” He teased with a very annoying smile on his face.

But your desperate, and you can feel your throat start to clog and a cough starting to gear up, you know what you have to.

“-ugh fine!”

….

It’s a few hours later.

Satoru was fucking elated. Floating on cloud nine, while you, were stuck in his arms. He had been clinging onto for who knows how long. As soon as you gave in and gave him those hugs, he wouldn’t let go.

Yes, he gave you those pills, yes you feel relieved and less sick, but god was it really worth it? Worth your dignity and sanity?

“One more episode pleaseeeee.” He whined, knowing damn well that he could just force you to watch with him anyway, but it was as if he wanted that reassurance that you wanted to watch with him too.

Which you didn’t.

“No satoru. I’m sleepy, okay? I’m tired.”

He mumbled something incoherent and grumbled, but then a smile appeared on his face.

“Oh no problem! Let’s just go to bed then!”

You didn’t realize what he meant until he grabbed you off the couch, carrying you off into your room giddily and jumped into bed with you.

He cuddled up to your side and sniffed into your neck, inhaling your scent and almost rubbing himself into your nape.

“S-satoru move..”

He chuckled and just squeezed closer to you. “But you’re sick sweetie.” He said with a faux pout, the kind where you know he was taunting you. “I need to be with you at all times to check your temperature and make sure my girl doesn’t get worse~”

Geto-

Suguru geto is a weird man.

He goes off everyday to his cult, his huge estate that wraps around his cult.

You don’t know it all started, what lead him to kill the leader and take over. No, you do know. You just wish you knew why. You wish you could’ve stopped him before his corruption. But alas, here you are.

But this time, Suguru is upset with you. Before he left to “work”, you had called him names and yelled at him. Told him to get away from you and that you hate him. You don’t know why you suddenly blew up, you’ve been eerily calm these past few days, but your upset. He’s been forcing himself on you, not sexually, but he’s been trapping you two together.

Following you everywhere you went, acting all calm when you got upset as if he wasn’t the problem. At one point he tried to get into the bathroom while you were showering, yes that was the last straw.

In your robe you yelled at him and called him out, and at one point it got out of hand, you started saying things that didn’t even have to do with why you were mad.

He left upset, he didn’t say anything. Just silent as he listened to your screams then left silent, too. And that was the scariest of them all.

But the truth is, you weren’t really upset about the fact he was trying to barge in when you were showering. Sure that would’ve been annoying and outright perverted, but you were mad for a different reason.

The way he almost found out that you were in fact, not showering.

But instead, using the showers loud water noise to cover up the fact that we’re puking.

When you saw the door handle start to turn as you coughed into the toilet, you quickly threw on a robe over your pajamas and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand.

You were angry because he almost caught you. The truth is, you’ve been sick for a while now. You know it’s some stomach bug, you get every now and then but you don’t want Suguru to know.

Because once he knows, it’ll just be another reason to control you. To coddle you and guilt you into staying with him.

But honestly the look on his face before he left- god did it make you feel guilty. You almost bit your inner cheek off seeing that. After all you still had.. unsolved feelings. He’s your best friend for fucks sake- no. He used to be your best friend. Before his corruption.

But you can’t help to think that perhaps- the Suguru you know is still there somewhere. He had to be right? That’s why he still loves and cares for you like he used to. Just now, it’s unwanted and forceful.

He comes home late tonight. You know why but you don’t say anything, you don’t comment on it. You’ve been reading, laying on your bed. Normally suguru comes in, lays on the bed and acts like he’s your husband who came home. Telling to you about his day, and asking about yours, as if he didn’t know.

But today, he doesn’t.

And you’re confused, but you don’t comment on it. And you don’t go to find him either because honestly you could care less.

But the thought lingers in the back of your mind, that uneasy feeling in your chest, heavy. You try to ignore it and read your book. But you can’t, your distracted and you can’t focus .

You decide you need some water, you get up and put your book on your nightstand. But as you walk to the door, about to pull the handle, Suguru comes storming in.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” He said angrily, basically threw the door open almost hitting you on the way, grabbing you by your mid arms.

Your confused. He doesn’t have cameras in the bathroom how could he know- oh.

You remember your slip up. The slip up you forgot.

When going to the kitchen to grab a glass of water after puking your guts out in the bathroom, desperately wanting to get that disgusting taste out your mouth and throat.

But then as you made your way to the kitchen for some water, you choke and feel yourself gagging. You throw up into the kitchen sink, coughing your guts out.

You thought that the cameras weren’t in the kitchen- and if so you forgot anyway. To focused on trying not to sob as that disgusting mass left your throat and emptied out your stomach.

“I don’t know what your talking bout Suguru..” you mumbled, trying to act stupid.

Obviously that doesn’t fly with Suguru and he just holds your arms tighter. “I saw you, don’t lie to me. Why didn’t you just tell me?” His voice was angry until it broke at his last words.

“Do you just not trust me anymore?” And god the desperation and sadness in his eyes actually hurt you for a second, the guilt in you starting to bubble up. But you push that aside and shrug your shoulders at him.

He grinds his teeth and pulls you into him. “I’ll earn back your trust, my dear. Or I’ll force it into you.”

Your eyes widen at the last part and you look up at him. He has to be joking, right?

“Excuse me?”

“Your going to bed rest for the rest of the week. I’ll be home the entire time.”

And you realize all your private time away from him has been taken away for the entire damn week, locked in a room, a bedroom, in bed, with Suguru. Fuck. But still, you did feel a twinge of guilt, so even though you heavily didn’t want to stay locked in a room with him, you unhappily agreed, but agreed either way.

Suguru just smiles at you. He doesn’t mean to be harsh, he cares. And he’s smart enough to know what your allergic to and what gets your stomach upset.

It’s just so weird how a curse managed to make it into y’all’s home, undetected by the both of you, and somehow infected you unknowingly.

Oh well.

What you don’t know can’t hurt you right?

Toji-

He’s overprotective and you know that.

That’s why, before you even know your sick, he’s all over you and checking you. He things it’s subtle (spoiler; it’s not) and he coddles you to death.

“I’m gonna take a day off today.” He’s doing it because of you and not one of his stupid excuses. And he says it, while his one arm is around your neck, the other around your belly, trapping to against his chest, your back to him, in bed.

“C-could you let go? I’m over heating..”

He groans and cuddles into you closer. “Few mo’ minutes, doll.” He mumbled into the back of your neck.

“I’m not sick I told you! Get off!”

Except it’s like your extreme refusal that your sick, the refusing his help and refusing him, just ends up in you sick.

You lay on the bed in front of him, while he pulled a chair up to you and spoon fed you soup. You can tell he enjoys it, a sly tug at his lips saying ‘I told you so’, he doesn’t have to say it out loud you just know.

You whine and tell him to go away, you don’t need him to baby you or stay home from work. That you’re perfectly fine taking care of yourself.

“Yeah? You refused me tryna’ help you and ya think you can take care of yourself fine?” He says, basically angry.

You huff and let him push a spoonful of hot soup into your mouth. “

“Why don’t ya just shut your mouth and let me take care of you. So damn bratty.”

You sigh and clutch at your blanket. You have nothing better to do then surrender to his touch because you feel so damn weak.

He slightly smiled at you, seeing you finally quiet down and let him feed you without a fight.

What a smart girl. He thinks.

It’s like you know the antidote is in the soup.

….

So that was crazy guys. Anyways! Should I add choso and Sukuna? I love them sm 😋 (tbh kinda scared to write Sukuna cuz he’s insane)

[bjlipss]

— 11:08, “i’m gonna ruin you” .

cw: throat fucking, this is so fucking nasty and i am deeply disappointed in myself but i am gonna wallow in my pathetic nature later because i got this outta my system and now im gonna go study bye AND ITS ONLY 11 IN THE MORNING GAHHH

i am losing my mind(p link)

“lay back for me, baby—head right at the edge. yeah, just like that.”

nanami’s voice is low, already a little frayed, like he knows he shouldn’t want this as much as he does. like he’s teetering on the edge of something dangerous. but you see it in his eyes—the hunger, the hesitation, the desperation to treat you right even when you’re asking him not to.

you’re lying on your back now, head tipped off the edge of the bed, hair falling loose and your mouth already parted as you blink up at him. he’s standing above you, shirt pushed up to his chest, abs tight with tension as he strokes himself slowly, gaze locked on your throat.

“are you sure?” he asks, one final time, voice hoarse. “i won’t be able to hold back like that. not in this position.”

you just smile, wide and inviting, the picture of obedience and sin.

“i want you to use me,” you breathe. “i want to feel it in my throat, kento. show me.”

something in him shatters.

he sinks to his knees first, kisses you upside-down—soft and almost reverent—then stands again, fists clenched at his sides before he brings the tip of his cock to your lips. and when you open up without hesitation, eyes fluttering closed around the first inch, he lets out a sound you’ve never heard from him before.

he eases in slowly at first, hands braced on either side of your jaw to keep your head steady. but gravity helps him, and so does the slick of your tongue, and soon he’s deeper than ever, and you’re swallowing around him like it’s the only thing you know how to do.

his breath punches out of him. “oh my god—”

and then—

he sees it. the bulge.

a thick outline pressing beneath the delicate skin of your throat, unmistakable and obscene, and it knocks every last ounce of control out of him.

his hands shift to your head, grip tightening, and his hips begin to move. slow at first, but forceful—like he wants to savor it but can’t stop himself from chasing more. from sinking deeper, from watching your throat flex and ripple around the shape of him.

“fuck—look at that. you’re taking it. taking all of me,” he groans, head tipping back for a second like the sight is too much, like it’s breaking him.

and then he starts to fuck your throat in earnest.

steady, brutal, using you—just like you asked—his hips rocking against your face with rhythmic force. your head bobs with the movement, and your hands scrabble weakly at the sheets, but you never stop him. you’re moaning, throat fluttering, eyes rolling, and drool runs down your cheeks and over your neck.

he’s panting now, completely wrecked, voice barely audible over the slap of his hips against your lips.

“so pretty—so fucking pretty like this—i’m gonna ruin you—gonna—fuck—” he groans through gritted teeth as he sees that bulge again, watches his cock press up under your skin like your throat was made to take it.

when he finally comes, it’s violent. his whole body locks up, a hoarse moan torn from his chest, and he holds your head still, buried deep, cock pulsing as he spills down your throat.

and still, he doesn’t stop right away.

he fucks into you a few more times, slower now, like he’s milking the last drops of pleasure from your body—and his.

when he pulls out, it’s with a wet pop, and you cough, breathless and soaked, eyes glassy and throat sore. but you’re smiling. god—you’re smiling at him like he just gave you the best gift in the world.

“that,” you rasp, voice ruined but proud, “was so fucking hot.”

nanami stares at you in stunned silence, chest heaving, hair mussed, flushed all the way to his ears.

“you saw it, didn’t you?” you whisper. “how deep you were?”

his knees buckle. literally. he collapses onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his lap, cradling your body like he needs to protect you from himself.

“you can’t say things like that,” he whispers against your neck. “you’ll kill me.”

but you just giggle, curling into him, and nanami—utterly, completely ruined—knows he’ll do it again the second you ask.

[paucubarsisimp]

sick days

pairing: poly!max verstappen x kelly piquet x reader

summary: in which you’re sick but your boyfriend and girlfriend are there to take care of you

warnings: none

the soft pitter-patter of rain against the windows was the only sound that filled the quiet apartment. the air inside was warm and cozy, but you, curled up on the couch under a pile of blankets, still felt like you were shivering with the chills from the fever that had you bedridden for the past day. you could barely keep your eyes open as your head throbbed with every slight movement. your throat felt raw, and your body ached like you’d run a marathon, but all you wanted was to sleep it off.

kelly was a picture of calm and care as she moved around the living room. she had set up a little “sick station” beside you—a tray of hot tea, tissues, cough drops, and a few movies queued up on the tv just in case you felt up to watching. her presence was grounding, and it made you feel safe, like nothing else in the world mattered other than you getting better.

max, on the other hand, was never far from you. usually so full of energy, it was almost disorienting to see him so soft, so tender. he sat beside you on the couch, his hand gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your forehead. he didn’t even seem to mind that you had been in bed all day, only caring about how he could make you feel comfortable.

“how are you feeling?” he asked quietly, his voice low and soothing. his thumb lightly traced circles on the back of your hand, offering comfort without a single word needing to be said.

“better now,” you murmured, though you weren’t entirely sure you were telling the truth. honestly, you just wanted to sleep through the sickness, but there was a warmth in their presence, a kind of quiet care that made everything feel a little easier.

kelly came over with a bowl of soup and sat down beside you, the steam rising in soft curls from the bowl. “here, sweetheart. it’ll help you feel better,” she said, her voice so gentle it almost made your heart ache. you took a spoonful, savoring the warmth and saltiness as it soothed your sore throat. “you just rest,” she added, brushing her hand through your hair. “we’re here for you.”

it was then that penelope, kelly’s little girl, toddled in with a stuffed bear clutched to her chest. she was wearing her favorite pajamas—pink with little unicorns—and her curls were a bit wild, probably from a nap. she immediately climbed up onto the couch and snuggled up beside you, her tiny arms wrapping around your waist in a warm hug.

“mama says i’m supposed to help take care of you,” she said seriously, looking up at you with her big brown eyes. “i’ll give you my bear if you need him.” the stuffed animal in her hands was comically large, almost as big as she was, but you couldn’t help but smile at the gesture.

max chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with fondness. “she’s a good nurse, isn’t she?”

“best one i’ve ever had,” you replied with a grin, reaching out to ruffle penelope’s hair.

kelly laughed, too, settling in beside you and watching as you two interacted. “she’s been asking every five minutes if you’re feeling any better,” she said, her tone light and affectionate. “i think she’s been more concerned than we’ve been.”

you could feel the warmth of her hand on your arm as she leaned over, adjusting the blankets around you and ensuring you were comfortable. “just rest,” she repeated softly, her voice full of affection. “we’ve got you.”

max reached over, brushing a few strands of hair off your face, his touch lingering. “you know, it’s okay to let us take care of you,” he said quietly. “you don’t have to do anything but get better.”

you leaned into him, grateful for the care they were giving you. “i don’t know what i’d do without you two.”

penelope, hearing your words, leaned up with a serious expression. “we’ll always take care of you,” she said, sounding every bit like her mama. “because you’re family.”

the weight of her words settled over you, and you smiled, your heart swelling with warmth. kelly and max exchanged a look, both of them smiling softly as they watched you and their daughter. everything felt so right in that moment, like nothing in the world could tear you apart. with them by your side, there was no sickness, no pain, no fear. just love.

you drifted in and out of sleep as they all tended to you, their voices soft and constant, a steady reminder that you were cherished. max made sure you stayed hydrated, bringing you water and more tea when you needed it. kelly kept adjusting the blankets, making sure you were warm enough. and penelope? well, she never stopped cuddling up next to you, her small hands bringing you things she thought might help—a toy, a new stuffed animal, even just a kiss on your cheek whenever she saw you look tired.

you could feel your energy slowly returning, not because of medicine or anything that might help physically, but because of them—because of the love they gave you, the care that wrapped around you like a comforting cocoon.

when you finally stirred again, it was because of the light pressure of a kiss to your forehead. max was leaning over you, his face full of tenderness. “feeling a little better?” he asked, his voice still gentle.

you smiled up at him, your heart full. “yeah, a little. i think i’m gonna make it through.”

kelly, sitting by your side, gave you a soft smile, brushing her thumb across your hand. “we’ll make sure of it.”

penelope snuggled into your side, yawning. “when you’re all better, we can play. you’re my best friend.”

you chuckled softly, feeling lighter than you had in days. “i look forward to it, my love.”

in that moment, you knew you were exactly where you were meant to be—wrapped in love, surrounded by care, and with a little family who would always take care of you, no matter what.

[navybrat817]

How does Bucky handle you being sick? 🥺

I may have gone overboard, nonnie. 😂

Sick Day

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky takes care of you when you get a cold. He also takes care of the guy who may have given you a cold.

Word Count: Over 2.4k

Warnings: Fluff, humor, established relationship, reader has a cold, implied smut, interrogation, Bucky Barnes being a ridiculously wonderful boyfriend in love (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I don't know where this came from. Maybe a bit of inspiration from @inklore here. 😂❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

When you had a hard time getting out of bed this morning due to a cold you caught at work, you tried to brush it off. Bucky immediately called in to take a personal day and said he had to take care of you, which forced you to take a sick day as well. It was for the best. You had a tendency to push yourself past your limit some days and he kept you in check.

You snatched a tissue out of the box beside you just in time to sneeze into it. With a pained groan, you scrunched up your face and dropped the tissue into the small pile in your lap. It took you a moment to sip your water, followed by your herbal tea. Though your throat was sore, you had to stay hydrated. You also had to get some rest.

Bucky wouldn’t let you hear the end of it if you didn’t.

“I hate this,” you mumbled to yourself before your boyfriend rushed into the living room to check on you, his piercing eyes searching the room as if to assess a threat.

“I heard you talking, baby. You need to rest your voice,” he said, adjusting the humidifier he set on the coffee table before his concerned gaze snapped back to you. “Wait. Do you need something? Do you not have enough blankets? I can get you more tea. Or I can put something on TV. Shit, where’s the writing pad?”

You tried not to smile as the massive shirtless supersoldier bustled around the room. He hadn’t seen you under the weather since the two of you started dating and you should’ve known he’d make a big deal out of it. Whether it had to do with growing up with Steve who dealt with all sorts of ailments or simply because it was his girlfriend feeling less than stellar, you weren’t sure. Either way, it was endearing to see the former Winter Soldier worked up over you.

He had nothing to worry about though.

“I’m fine,” you croaked before you went into a coughing fit.

Bucky’s eyes widened as he crouched beside you and brought the water back to your lips once you had yourself under control. His brows furrowed when he checked your forehead with his right hand, which made you fall in love with him a little more. You tried to tell him earlier to keep his distance so he didn’t get sick before he gently reminded you that he wasn’t exactly prone to catching colds thanks to the serum.

A silver lining from the pain he had to go through.

“You’re not fine. You’re sick. Well, you’re still 'fine',” he smiled a little, making your heart swell. “I used that in the right context, didn’t I?”

You almost went into another coughing fit as you giggled, the sound huskier and deeper than normal. “Only you would think I’m fine when I’m like this,” you said, reaching up to run your fingers through his silky chestnut hair. He hadn’t brushed it today. Too busy taking care of you. “And I’m not ‘sick’ sick. it’s just a cold.”

“It isn’t just a cold. Not to me,” he said, his jaw clenching as his vibranium fingers curled.

“I’ll be better before you know it,” you assured him, raising an eyebrow as his cheek twitched. “What’s the matter?”

Why is he getting himself worked up?

“I just don’t like you feeling any kind of pain,” he said, leaning up so he could press his lips to your forehead. He huffed as they lingered there. “I wish I could take it away and I can’t.”

It was a sweet sentiment, especially after everything he went through.

“I know you would if you could and it’s okay that you can’t,” you said. You understood where he was coming from though because you didn’t like the idea of him in pain either. He had a heart almost as large as his body and you were lucky to get a single ounce of his love. “Don’t worry, okay?”

“You’re my girl and it's impossible not to worry,” he said, a touch of possession and tenderness seeping into his tone. Belonging to him was as natural as breathing. “But I'll try to relax a bit.”

“As long as you try,” you said as he pressed another kiss to your forehead.

Your head tingled from his lips before you frowned. This close, you could usually get a whiff of his woodsy cologne. Your eyes welled up when you inhaled again and couldn’t smell him, doing your best to blink the tears away so he wouldn't catch them. It was silly that you suddenly missed the comfort of that smell because your nose was acting up.

He didn’t need your tears on top of that.

But, of course, he caught your sad sniffle, which sounded slightly different from your cold sniffle. His body stiffened, like a cobra ready to strike. “Tell me what’s wrong, even if I can’t physically fix it.”

God, I love this man.

“I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but I really miss the smell of your cologne,” you told him, your gaze probably nothing short of pathetic as you tilted your head to see his handsome face.

Your breath caught when he looked back at you and brushed a tear away with his thumb. There was nothing but love and adoration in those brilliant eyes of his. It made you feel lighter.

“That’s far from ridiculous because I smell amazing,” he teased, bumping his nose against yours to bring a smile to your face. “How about I spray the blankets after you take a nap and I make you some soup? That way my scent will be there even if you can't smell it.”

Tears clogged your throat as you gave him a nod, committing the moment to memory. You were used to going it alone before he came into your life. He couldn’t take the pain away, but he could make you feel better in ways that mattered to you. That likely comforted him just as much as it soothed you.

“That would be great,” you said, yawning a bit. “Can we watch a movie after my nap?”

“We'll watch whatever you want.”

You pulled him close so he could join you on the couch, knowing that his muscular and warm frame against yours would feel just as comforting and safe as the blanket that covered you. And he relaxed and quickly accepted your wordless invitation to wrap his arms around you, keeping you in his loving embrace. It was home and always would be.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said, closing your eyes as you nuzzled your head against his bare chest. “I love you.”

“I’ll always take care of you,” he promised, his vibranium hand moving in slow circles along your back as you began to drift off. “I love you, too.”

You let out a happy moan before you said one more thing. “And hunt down the person who gave me this cold, okay?”

With your eyes shut, you didn’t see the determination written all over his face. “You got it, baby.”

You were right as rain and back to work a couple of days later, thanks to Bucky caring for you and some much needed rest. Not even an hour into your shift though, Steve requested for you to meet him in the second lower level. You didn't hide your surprise as that was usually reserved for interrogations.

Which was exactly why he called you down there.

“What's going on?” You asked as you walked into the viewing room. Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Tony all looked your way, but didn't give you any sort of response. “Seriously, what's up?”

“You don't know?” Natasha responded, nodding toward the glass.

You followed her gaze with a gasp as you saw Bucky tower over some blonde male agent in the cell. Your boyfriend was almost unrecognizable with his face devoid of any emotion, dominant and on the edge of terrifying. It was a far cry from the loving side you were privy to, yet you loved this side of him just the same.

“Buck dragged John down here a few minutes ago,” Steve explained in a quiet voice as he punched the bridge of his nose. “Said something about him hurting you.”

You tilted your head as you looked at John, recognizing him after a second due to his punchable face. “Him? No. He didn't hurt me. He just bumped into me the other day in the break room,” you explained. Which wasn't that big of a deal to you, but probably offensive to Bucky. “But he didn't apologize.”

He also had a cold.

Oh, no.

“So, you had nothing to do with this?” Sam asked, chuckling as you lifted your chin.

“No, I didn't,” you replied as you bit your lip. “At least, I don't think I had anything to do with this.”

Your heart raced faster when Bucky pushed the sleeves of his shirt up and gripped John by the collar, the veins in his right arm popping out. You wished you could lick them. Maybe later.

“I know it was you, you piece of shit,” he said, roughly shoving the agent back into his chair. “You got my girl sick.”

Oh, Bucky.

You stared straight ahead as you felt the group collectively look your way, refusing to react under their stares. “Before any of you say another word, this is definitely not my fault,” you stated.

“Of course it isn't,” Natasha smirked. She knew Bucky loved to play the hero on your behalf even though you could take care of yourself. “Just enjoy the show.”

Your mouth fell open as your boyfriend slammed his left fist on the table, leaving a sizable dent as John nearly fell backwards in his chair. This guy was an agent? He was either new to interrogations or simply scared shitless of the former assassin.

Maybe both.

But you ignored him as you shifted your attention back to your beefy, perfect boyfriend.

When you had mumbled for him to find the person who gave you the cold, you didn’t think he’d actually do it. You weren’t sure how he narrowed down to John, but the former assassin was resourceful and you should've known he'd take you seriously. And, fuck, if it wasn’t slightly mortifying on your behalf and hot as hell watching him in action.

“That cold you gave her made her cry. You made my girl cry. Do you know what I do to guys like you who make my girl cry?” Bucky said through his teeth, bringing his fist down on the table again as John flinched and you smiled. With all the strength he possessed, you never had to worry that he'd hurt you. But you couldn't say the same for the frightened agent. “You're about to find out.”

You didn't think you could love Bucky more after he helped you get over your cold, but he proved you wrong.

And you could now add Bucky threatening people to your list of things that made you dreamily sigh and tingle between your thighs.

“Look, I'm sorry. I’m sorry! All I did was bump into her. It was an accident!” John shouted, putting his hands up in surrender and trembling when Bucky stood to his full height and cracked his neck. Your boyfriend waited a beat before he grabbed one of his hands and began to twist, making the agent pale as you bit back a whimper. “Fuck, stop! I won’t even breathe around her again. I’ll hold my breath! Just let me go!”

“You're enjoying this, aren't you?” Tony asked you, taking out his phone to type a quick message as you hummed. Maybe you were enjoying it. How many guys went out of their way to scare someone who possibly gave you a cold? “Does the Manchurian Candidate know how much I’ll have to pay to keep this guy from suing him?”

“We can tell him it was a prank?” Steve suggested, bringing another laugh out of Sam as Natasha shook her head.

Bucky's eyes narrowed as he flung the hand away, his hair falling in his eyes as you held your breath. He looked like a wild animal, untamed and stunning. “I should choke you. Make you see how long you can really hold your breath before you pass out,” he snarled as John rubbed his sore skin.

Steve snuck a glance at you, his cheeks a little pink when you put a hand to your throat. “I don't want to overstep because you're my best friend's girl, but you do know you just moaned, right?” He whispered low enough for only you to hear.

Oops.

“Oh, my god,” you groaned, putting your warm face in your hands to hide your embarrassment for a moment. “Is anyone going to stop him?!”

“Why haven’t you stopped him?” Natasha countered knowingly.

Because I’m too busy thinking of how I’m going to suck his dick so good later that I'll make him see God.

You took a breath as the ache between your legs got stronger and pressed the button beside the glass. “Bucky?”

He swung his head toward the glass and met your gaze even though he couldn’t see you. No matter what, he’d always be able to spot you. “Hey, baby. I found the prick who gave you a cold. Want me to beat the shit out of him?” he bragged as John paled.

“I love you,” you giggled from how sweet and ridiculous he was. “And no. I appreciate you defending me, but I think you can let him go.”

Tony playfully rolled his eyes when Bucky grinned. “Your crazy matches his crazy.”

True.

“Okay. I love you, too,” Bucky said in a light tone, his smile falling the second he looked back at John and smacked the table against the wall with a clang. The agent looked like he was on the verge of passing out. “Next time you see my girl, apologize and walk away. And the next time you have a cold, stay the fuck home or you'll answer to me.”

Yeah. I’m going to suck the soul from his body to thank him for everything the moment we get home.

And maybe the two of you could take another sick day to spend the day in bed.

Totally normal boyfriend, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Look for the Soul and the Meaning

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Early Alexandria

Warnings: Depictions of illness

Summary: You’re sick. Daryl makes sure you’re not alone.

A/N: I have been uber sick this week and just needed some self indulgent comfort. Idec if he’s ooc this time.

*gif is not mine

Groaning, you rolled your head from side to side, even the soft cradle of the pillow intensifying the ache in your skull. Your throat was a tunnel of razor blades, your lungs trying their best to eject themselves over your tongue. Your body ached and protested, skin sensitive from fever. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think.

“I feel gross.” You whimpered. You raised a hand toward your face but found it to be too much work, letting it drop to the mattress beside you.

“Know ya do.” His raspy whisper acted as a balm to your pain.

A blessedly cool cloth touched your forehead, remaining there for a moment before it was pressed against each cheek and then your neck. Your sigh came unbidden, shameless and sudden.

“That’s nice.” You croaked before being seized by a coughing fit. It was dry and unproductive, the mucus coating the inside of your lungs like slime, unmoving. It hurt. “Daryl.” You whimpered.

The flu hit Alexandria during your first autumn within the walls. Though some fell victim, just as they had at the prison, the community had medicines readily available. IV fluids, oxygen tanks, and fever reducers. This virus was different, thank god; a less intense influenza. That, however, was not a comfort when it came to feeling the symptoms.

“M’right here, Sunshine.”

The coolness left your skin to burn, but once his fingers began carding through your hair, his lips touching your forehead, you could no longer feel the heat. And for one moment, coherency filtered through.

“Daryl—Daryl, your bandana.” You wheezed, reaching for the fabric he had pulled down to hang around his neck. Looking at him, even your eyes felt like they would singe out of your skull. “You’re gonna get sick too.”

“M’gonna be fine.” He caught your hand easily—your movements too sluggish—and kissed the inside of your wrist. “Means ya gotta get better so ya can take care’a me.”

You chuckled weakly, triggering another cough. It jostled your sore body, earning a whine and a few tears. Your eyes had screwed shut to ride out the ordeal, but opened when something touched your lips. The bottle felt odd, warm and scratchy.

“Gotta drink for me.” Blue eyes flickered up to the bag of fluids hanging from the bedpost but didn’t linger. “Help them fluids do their job.” You reluctantly obliged, fearing the feel of the water against your already irritated throat.

Turned out, it was heavenly.

You drank greedily, not even thirsty but lost in the relief the cool liquid was providing. When it was suddenly taken away, you chased it with desperation.

“Gimme.” You pouted.

“In a bit. Ya gonna make yourself sick.” The cool cloth was back and the water was forgotten. With weak uncoordinated movements, you pulled the blankets up further, your entire form trembling with chills.

“Tell me a story, Daryl.”

The cloth ceased its travels. “A story?”

“Mhm. Don’t care what it is.” Sleep was standing in the corner, pulling at you incessantly, your eyelids growing heavier and heavier despite the heat and pain. “Tell me about your chupacabra.”

It was Daryl’s turn to laugh, a sharp exhale through his nose. “Nah, that ain’t no sickbed story.”

“Tell me—something.” You yawned, wincing when you could feel the pull on your inflamed throat. It was quiet in the room, your eyes closed and chest wheezing. But then:

“Once upon a time—”

You mimicked his earlier laugh, your eyes remaining closed. “So cliché.”

The man at your bedside scoffed. “Ya want a story or not?”

“Mhm. Sorry.” You whispered, already fading, the cloth pulling away to be replaced by his fingertips in your hair, ghosting over your face.

Daryl cleared his throat, the deep breath he sucked in was unsteady. “Once upon a time, there was a woman. She was a smartass. Pigheaded as all get out.” The corner of his mouth lifted when you began to snore, your stuffy nose making it impossible to breathe properly. “She met a redneck drifter, a real asshole.” Leaning down, he pressed his lips to your overly warm forehead, letting them linger there. Pulling back, he stayed close, just watching you sleep, stroking the hair on the crown of your head. “An’ somehow, she changed him.”

Sitting back, he grabbed the cloth and dipped it in the bowl of water, back to battling the flames beneath your skin.

“S’far from the end, Sunshine.”

[deantfwinchester]

Neighborhood Walgreens

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

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

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

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

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

Word Count: 5.9k. absolute unit.

——————————————————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—--------------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—--------------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____________________________________________________________

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

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

—--------------------

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

—--------------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—--------------------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

_____________________________________________________________

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

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

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

[papayadays]

🧸 Lando + 16 “checking up on the other regularly when they know they're not feeling their best”

congrats 🥂

a/n: aww thank you so much!! i loved writing this and sorry it took so long <3

in hindsight, you should’ve known you were sick. you had been busy with schoolwork and life and travel, and it ultimately took its toll on you. you had just come back from accompanying lando on the triple header when you started getting sick the next day.

you had a runny nose, a sore throat, and it was all you could do to just stay in bed. you had to cancel your date with lando, apologizing and explaining your current state. you put down your phone, sighing, as you watched continued your netflix binge.

however, after a few minutes, you heard the doorknob rattle before opening, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. unable to do anything else, you pulled the covers tighter over your head, trying to hear who came in.

“love?”

you let out a sigh of relief at hearing lando’s voice, having forgotten he had a spare key. “i’m here,” you said, and lando instantly came to your side. “aren’t you busy?”

“but you’re sick,” lando said simply, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “how are you feeling?”

“bad,” you mumbled. “my throat is sore and my nose won’t stop running.” lando gave you a sympathetic look, hand still brushing your hair.

“don’t worry,” lando nodded, taking out a pharmacy bag you hadn’t realized was there. “i got some cough drops here and i’m going to go make some chicken noodle soup for you.” before you could protest, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and left.

you took a cough drop, settling back into bed and pressing play on your remote, listening to the sound of lando working in the kitchen. later, he asked, “do you have any of those trays to- nevermind, i found them.”

you smiled softly, and it was crazy how just his mere presence could change your mood. you sat up when he returned, a tray with soup and a cup of hot chocolate in hand.

lando sat on the bed, watching you eat. “anything else you need?” he asked, wrapping an arm around you. you shook your head, leaning into him. “oh, i also threw the laundry into the washer and cleaned the kitchen.”

your eyes widened as you turned to your boyfriend, touched by his small acts that you didn’t have the energy to do. “lan, you didn’t have to.”

“but i want to,” he grinned. “you’re sick, let me take care of you, love.” you nodded, resting your head on his shoulder.

“thank you,” you smiled. “you’re the best.”

“i know.”

joyce's birthday bash! 😽

[mygnolia]

take care of him, sunghoon's sick!

or alt. the pt 2 no one asked for... LOL

pairing: sunghoon x gn!reader headcannons! | wc: 800 | cw: food, sunghoon as a SIMPPP lots of kisses and cuddling

—

sunghoon does his best not to get sick whatsoever 

he’s an athlete and a student, if he gets sick he falls behind on a LOT 

but when he saw you in his puffer jacket and a smile at his competition, ofc he had to kiss you 

you were his one and only and he loves you to death 

simphoon! 

smiling ear to ear on the drive home as you tell him how cool he always looks on the ice

he gets SHY 

wdym his baby is complimenting him profusely 

you two  make food together, and although you’re still congested, you promise sunghoon you feel much better. 

makes soup and noodles 

yes he hugs you from behind yes he rests his chin on the top of your head 

the man is 5’11 (and i’m 5’4 mmmm how perfect)

one kiss leads to another kiss and suddenly you’re giggling from the ticklish feeling and how he’s annunciating every “mwah!” 

kisses all over your face 

he snuggles with you on the couch when you eat, and actually cuddles you this time 

“Someone’s clingy,” you joke, and he buries his head in your neck. “But it’s okay. I like it.” 

hoon is all blush blush

“It’s been a long time, I missed you,” HE’S SO POUTY AND BABIE 

You two definitely fall asleep with a light on, his legs tangled with yours, his hand around your waist holding you close. 

Uh oh!

Sore throat. 

“I think you got me sick.” You apologize like crazy, rushing to make him some egg drop soup and tea

“Shhh, Hoon, go back to bed, let me take care of you” 

oh the man is WHIPPED head over HEELS he’s like omg what did I do in my past life to get someone as caring as ____ 

He’s also whiny, and kind of quiet

he is a thinker and a listener so when he’s sick, he’s even less inclined to talk or be his usual rambunctious self 

It makes you feel bad for putting your boyfriend in such a miserable position 

But he promised you it’s not your fault (even though it is) and that it’s not as bad as you think it is 

no more feeling bad! You have to make sure sunghoon recovers as quick as he can 

You separate medicine into little containers and makes sure he always leaves with warm tea, cough drops, gloves, and any medication if he needs 

You drive him whenever, 1. because he is ur passenger princess! and 2. because you don’t want him to be stuck in traffic when tired

Always Always getting him layers 

and now it’s your turn to refuse his kisses and hugs. 

“____ I want to cuddle.” 

You shake your head, a smile threatening to break your stoicism. “You’re sick, baby. You don’t want to get me sick again, do you?” 

“But I miss you :(“ oh he definitely is following you around the house like a puppy trying to get you to give him forehead kisses and that sweet sweet tlc. 

He sends you voicemails when you’re busy telling you “hi baby i’m at home still are you still coming over today?” violent coughing “i mizz u and i wuv u”

AGH so whipped for this boy im…

you come over with more soup and cuddles and love 

he falls asleep halfway through his movie and you have to check his forehead to make sure he’s not having a fever 

dishes are CLEANED everything is put away and then you go sleep on the couch

now lets say the couch is huge and there is space for two 

WELL sunghoon wakes up in the middle of the night and sees you’re not in bed :(( so he goes out to the living space with his blanket and then just falls asleep on you 

and you wake up like wtf i cannot breathe??? 

but oh it’s just hoonie bb its okay 

HES SOOOOO CUTEEE 

messy hair covering his forehead and eyes as he sleeps on your shoulder, hot breath fanning your neck 

you just stay there until the afternoon because you could not try to untangle yourself even if you tried 

but he’s better! at least he says so 

he feels a lot more energetic, is attending practice for longer periods of time and more frequently, and you see the sparkle in his eyes again 

YAYYYY BB HOON IS RECOVEREDDDDDD 

you still dote on him until he’s completely better because you truly want to make sure he’s not overworking himself

agh he WILL marry you he will put a ring on your finger and boom you two have a white picket fence and two dogs and a cat. 

—

hello it’s me ren again 🤓 mmmwah i love hoon

[majorlb]

Edwin has always been prone to sickness, "Vitamin D deficiency," according to the doctor that Charles forced him to go see. Of course, this prompted Charles to make a bad joke about "How can you be deficient, love? I give you the D as often as I can" followed by a wink and a laugh when Edwin shoved at him.

He doesn't get sick as often anymore, but that's not saying much, given that his levels are slow to rise despite the prescribed vitamins.

Charles, on the other hand, has seemingly been blessed with an immune system that will fight off anything. He gets the sniffles maybe once a year, and even that isn't a real cold, not like Edwin, who becomes feverish and bedridden.

So many times, Edwin has shoved him away, claiming, "I'll get you sick if you kiss me," only for Charles to kiss him anyway and not get sick at all.

"Just means I was made for you, don't it? So that I can take care of you when you get sick"

And he does, Charles dotes on him, brings him tea, and makes sure there's easily swallowed foods in the fridge. He puts cough drops on the nightstand, with the water pitcher and so many soft tissues. He makes sure there's nasal spray and tv shows on low volume and plenty of blankets around. And then he kisses Edwin goodbye as he goes to work and tells him to rest, and Edwin has never felt this loved before.

No one took care of him like this before Charles. Not even the nanny that was hired from age 2-6 was this attentive, even though she was paid to be.

His parents never even stepped into his room when he was sick as a child, so he's never learned what to do with affection.

But now Edwin can rest, knowing he's loved, waiting for Charles to come home and kiss him again, to tell him about his day and how he missed him. It makes it so he doesn't mind being sick anymore, might even miss it, just a little bit, when he's healthy again, being this tended to.

The best part is when Charles does comes home, presses his cool face to his fever-warm one, and asks if he feels any better. Presses kisses to his jaw, cheeks, and the bridge of his nose. Slips his fingers under Edwins pajamas and whispers "sorry sorry" when it makes him hiss from the cold.

Edwin loves this, even though his joints ache. But Charles is so careful when he rearranges Edwins body to where he wants it. He loves it even though his head pounds and his throat is sore, but Charles is so gentle, trying not to jostle him too much, not to force too many sounds from him.

He knows Charles loves it, too. He loves how Edwins body is warmer than usual, how he's so pliant and sleep-soft and willing. How his voice sounds scratchy from the get go, his breath short and gasping.

It was an odd thing, no one's ever wanted him, not this much, and if they did, they seem to want to punish him for it. And then came Charles, with eager hands and dark eyes, reaching for him always, always. He still doesn't know what to do with affection, except lay there and take it, and hope it lasts forever.

[pagelets]

TXT taking care of you when you get sick

Disclaimer: this is all fluff

Word count: 1.1k

Note: as the seasons are changing, of course I caught a cold. And what did I do with that?

✨ Inspiration ✨ Anyway, I hope you enjoy it and lemme know which one is your favorite (mine is definitely Huening's).

Yeonjun:

He gets absolutely frantic when you say your throat is starting to hurt. So frantic that he forgets he's a singer and that taking care of sore throats is kind of his specialty. Yeonjun rushes to the drugstore and buys EVERY single brand of cough drops he can find. Of course, he only realizes how he overrated when he gets home and sees the look of disbelief on your face, “Jjun… why?” "I didn’t know which one would work best for you" “You know you have a phone with internet, right?” “Ah! Come on! I was so worried I forgot how to think!”

Laughing, you hug him and thank him for the effort.

After that, he builds a cozy fort of pillows and blankets on the couch and pulls you into his chest while you both watch movies to cheer you up. He stays alert the entire time, checking if your temperature is going up.

Such a caring boyfriend.

Soobin:

Soobin is a bit clumsy and has no idea how to make soup. But he’s really good at one thing: giving you affection. He takes you to the doctor, buys your medicine, and reads you a bedtime story to help you fall asleep. He gently brushes your hair behind your ear, tucks you in, and kisses your forehead every time he passes by. He even googles: “how to take care of someone who’s sick” just to make sure he’s doing it right.

You catch him pacing around the room, looking worried even though you’ve already told him you’ll be fine. “Do you want more tea? Or a warm compress? I can make toast! I mean... should you eat toast? Should I Google that too?”. You can’t help but smile. He may not know much about soups or medicines, but his love and effort are the best remedy of all.

And honestly, with Soobin’s arms wrapped around you and his voice softly whispering, “You’ll feel better soon”, you already do.

Beomgyu:

At the first sign that you’re getting sick, Beomgyu cancels his entire schedule just to take care of you. He gives you warm baths, feeds you, makes you some tea, holds the nebulizer mask for you, wraps you in blankets, checks your temperature every hour, and even sings you to sleep.

"You can go to work, it’s just a cold” “And leave you alone?! Not happening, princess” “I don’t want you to get sick, Gyu” “And I made a promise to always take care of you. Now shut up and drink the tea”. Maybe it’s a bit too much? Yes. But there’s no use arguing— he’s going to be your personal nurse until you have enough strength for him to start teasing you again.

Taehyun:

Being sick really sucks. Nothing tastes good and your body just wants to sleep. But Taehyun will cook for you anyway, even if you say you’re not hungry. He makes soup, cuts you some fruit, and keeps you far away from sweets and soda.

“You need a strong immune system” “But I just want a tiny little piece of chocolate, Tyun!”, you say, pouting. But no matter how cute you try to be, he’s strict. But only because he wants you to get better quickly.

In the end, you give in and fall asleep in his arms as he gently runs his fingers through your hair. When you wake up, there’s a chocolate truffle on his side of the bed, with a little note:

‘Since you ate all your fruit, you can have this chocolate'.

Isn’t he the sweetest?

Huening Kai:

Huening doesn’t really know what to do when you get sick. He gets a little nervous and asks if he should call someone more responsible (probably Taehyun).

But he wants to help, so he does what he knows best: brings comfort. He lets you cuddle with his plushies— the special ones, the ones no one’s allowed to touch. “You can borrow them, but only because you need them more than I do right now", he says, trying to sound serious, but you can see the soft smile forming on his lips.

He makes hot chocolate, puts on your favorite cartoons, and even wraps you both under the same blanket so you feel warm and safe. When you fall asleep, he adjusts the plushies around you like little guards and whispers, “Get well soon, okay?”.

In Kai's heart, healing is made of the softness and the love he has to give.

permanent taglist (cause now I have one!!): @yunreads

(Let me know if you want to be added)

If you enjoyed it please consider liking and reblogging 😊

[hjizngs]

sick days | lee minho

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

hi! this is my first ever post on here,, hehe. constructive criticism is welcomed, hate is not.

cw: sick reader, petnames, slight cursing, slightly suggestive (??), angstyish oops, mostly fluff! just minho being the cutest bf :3

another hacking cough forces itself from your throat, leaving behind a painful sting and the inability to swallow. a frustrated groan emits you, followed by disgruntled sniffle. you hate being sick. 

sore throats, gross coughs, painful headaches, and a stuffed nose were all a recipe for disaster — especially today. you and minho had planned out the perfect date; a picnic, stroll in the park, and finally a movie. you had looked forward to it all week, barely getting through. only the promise of seeing your boyfriend kept you going.

you turn over on your side, the gentle movement sending another round of pain signals ringing in your head. tears sprung to the corners of your swollen eyes. you were devastated at having to miss your date. blearily, you swung a hand over to the bedside table, blindly searching for your phone. 

once found, you swiped over to minho’s contact. pressing the call button, you slumped back onto your pillow defeatedly. 

“jagi?” came the sweet voice of your boyfriend. “what’s up?” 

an exhausted whimper answers him. “min.. min i’m sorry” is all you can utter. 

his voice instantly is filled with concern. “what’s my love sorry for, hm? is everything okay?”

“no, m’sorry min.. i feel so bad. my head hurts, and i puked earlier, and it —“ another pained sound exits you. “— it hurts.” 

something shuffles over the phone, and your boyfriend is quick to reply. “oh, my poor jagi. i’m on my way, don’t worry.”

you furrow your brows. “wh-what? no no you don’t have to do that, min!” 

“see you in five.”

your eyes rolled as your boyfriend hung up on you a abruptly (like he always does — and it never fails to surprise you). coughing again, you accept that there’s nothing you can do to stop him from coming over. you scan your messy room and groan. you’re sick! you don’t want him to see you like this! 

you swing your legs over to the side of your bed, only pausing when a sneeze erupts from your pinkened nose. you settle your socked feet on the floor and attempt to rise to your feet. 

you sway, blinking harshly as to try to clear the black spots plaguing your vision. maybe getting up wasn’t the best idea..? oh well. 

slowly, you begin to shuffle around your room, picking up discarded clothes and trying to round up any embarrassing wrappers or trash. you’re halfway through folding another t-shirt when your body flashes hot, then cold. the pounding in your head increases tenfold and you drop the shirt in favor of clutching your temples. spots engulf your sight and you sink to your knees, not even attempting to make it to the bed.

you’re sweating. but the ceiling fan above only makes you shiver, goosebumps lining your arms. everything is too bright, and you squint from a combination of a headache and the glaring overhead light that suddenly feels like a thousand suns beating down on you. 

another whimper crawls out of your dry throat. the only thing your fever-weakened mind can think is minho. where is minho? you need him, it hurts it hurts everything hurts —

“jagi?! oh my god, are you okay?” thunderous footsteps make their way to you and you wince at the sudden exclamation. 

cold, cool hands press themselves to your trembling body and you sigh in relief. they stroke through your hair, carding through gently. you open one eye to see who they belong to, but clamp it shut immediately, the bright light making your eyelids pulse.

 you hear shuffling from the side, and one of the hands leave you. you suppress a whine, but something in your expression must be alarming because the voice coos. “oh, baby, i’m just turning off the light, okay?” 

no, it’s not okay. not when those hands are the only thing grounding you, keeping you from melting. however, as promised, the offending light gets shut off, and you hum in appreciation. 

the nice hands quickly return to their rightful place in your hair, and you bravely attempt to open your swollen eyes again.

your boyfriend looks down at you gently. “my poor girl. let’s get you back into bed, hm?”

you nod pathetically, letting him lift you up and place you softly on your mattress. you murmur a quiet thanks and he kisses your sweaty forehead in response. he sits on the side of the bed next to you, placing his hand on your leg and rubbing comforting circles into your skin.

“have you eaten at all yet?” he inquires.

you shake your head, “no, not yet. i don’t think i could eat a thing without puking it back up, to be honest.”

minho hums at that, scanning your face. he reaches out and places a small hand on your forehead, feeling out your temperature. he frowns.

“i think we need to check for a fever, honey. you’re very warm.”

he moves to go stand and you pout. “don’t leave, please.”

“i’m just going to grab the thermometer and a glass of water, i’ll be right back, okay?”

“be fast!” you plead.

he cards a hand through your hair. “i’ll be so fast, jagiya.”

it feels like an eternity as minho tries to locate the thermometer from outside your bedroom. you shiver again, pulling the closest fuzzy blanket over you and burrowing into it.

and that’s how he finds you when he returns — a sweaty, sick burrito. you watch as he smiles down at you fondly, pulling back the blanket a little to take a look at you.

“think you can sit up for me? need help?” he asks.

“need help, please,” you respond nasally.

minho aids in positioning you up so you’re leaning against your pillow. he holds out the found thermometer and motions for you to open your mouth.

you oblige and he places the thermometer under your tongue. after a few moments, he pulls it out and looks down on it with a displeased expression — like it personally offended him.

“100.” he states, his brow crinkling. “yeah, you’re not leaving this bed.”

you sigh and slump farther into your blanket. “i’d rather hear that in a different situation.”

minho blinks slowly, fondly. “i’ll ignore that, just because you’re sick.”

you stick out your tongue as he rises from the bed to put away the thermometer. he looks down at you, unimpressed, but with a twinkle of amusement in his catlike eyes. “brat.”

“i’m sick!” you whine, “be nice.”

“i am being nice. so nice, in fact, that i’ll ignore this little attitude —“ he reaches down and pokes your forehead, “— because i know that you feel like shit.”

you roll your eyes when he’s turned and putting the thermometer in some drawer, but deep down you’re very grateful he came over to take care of you. for all his teasing, he really does treasure you. you still feel bad for canceling the date.

in some feverish, dramatic mood change, tears begin to well in the corners of your eyes. they’re hot and uncomfortable, and you sniffle. not only did you cancel the date, you’re acting like a brat instead of thanking minho for looking after you.

“m’sorry,” you croak from your cocoon of blankets.

minho turns around sharply and scans your face quickly. he strides over to the bed and sits beside you. “what?”

“m’sorry!” tears begin to trickle down your face, sticky and unwanted. you reach up to swipe them away.

minho’s hand reaches out, grabbing onto your arm and lightly tugging you into his chest. “silly girl. what are you sorry for?”

“f’making you come over and take care of me and being a brat and not saying thank you!” you rush out, slurring some words.

a chuckle shakes minho’s chest. “oh wow, you’re really out of it, huh?”

“i’m sorry!”

“hey, hey,” his joking manner disappears when a fresh wave of tears erupts from your eyes. “you have nothing to be sorry for. you’re sick. you have a fever, baby. you aren’t being a brat, i’m sorry i called you that when you weren’t feeling well.”

you peek up at him. “you mean it?”

minho doesn’t respond, just pulls you tighter into his chest and kisses the top of your hair. his cool hand rubs on your back soothingly under your shirt. he gently lays back onto your bed, cradling you to his chest.

“try to sleep some of this off. take a nap,” he orders you lightly. “i’ll be right here.”

at his words, you snuggle into him. he reaches to the side and pulls a blanket over the two of you. just before sleep takes it’s hold over you, you look up at him, catching his eye.

“thanks for being here, min. i love you,” you murmur, your eyelids getting heavier and heavier as you begin to succumb to sleep.

the last thing you hear before sinking into feverish dreams is, “anytime, baby. i love you more.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

yas! ok! first post done, please lmk what u think!!!1 reblogs and likes are appreciated:3

[youkissedareaderinthedark]

Under the Weather

Synopsis: You’re sick. George’s sick. Someone else is probably going to get sick. It’s an interesting last race in Abu Dhabi

young female driver reader x 2023 F1 grid

A/N: this fic is pretty vague so i’m not going to give the reader a team or teammate, we just know that she’s a driver on the grid because that’s all we really need to know

. so

. you think you caught it in vegas

. it was colder than you were used to

. you barely got any sleep

. and even though you’re around hundreds of people every race weekend, las vegas felt more packed than a normal race would be

. and you were seated next to george, who’s been feeling sick for a few days at that point, for nearly all pre-race activities

. it was probably all of these combined that gave you a sore throat, stuffy nose, pounding headache, and persistent cough

. you knew the second you woke up thursday morning

. “it’s going to be a shitty weekend”

. the grid, however, did not know until thursday afternoon

. you came into the press conference room, bundled up in a long sleeve and hoodie, nose red with a scratchy voice

. you sit beside an amused lewis, resisting all urges to lay your head against the back of the couch and drift off

. “you okay y/n?”

. the only response he gets is a groan and small shake of the head

. “i’ll get you some tea when we’re done here love, you’ll be okay”

. lewis, who was always your favorite but now has new reasons to be favored, lets you rest your head against his shoulder and close your eyes while you all wait for the conference to begin

. word spreads by the end of the media day, and suddenly you have new reactions from the grid

. daniel walks through the paddock with you, never afraid of a little cough

. “lewis tells me you’ve been on your death bed over here. anything I can do?”

. he insist on giving you a hug and the recipe for chicken soup that he learned from his mum and now swears by

. max, who is afraid of a little cough, is the one who makes sure you’re not being harassed when trying to sleep

" max? who’s under the blanket-”

. “shush. she’s trying to sleep”

. “but who’s-”

. “I said shush”

. lando, a man who’s all too familiar with being clumsy, probably saves you a million times from walking into doorways, a drowsiness affect from the fever you keep insisting you don’t have

. he’ll keep a constant eye on you and hand on your shoulder as a precaution

. “let’s not go over there, that’s a wall”

. “y/n!”

. “mhm?” you’d say, eyes half closed with tiredness

. “that’s a door love, jeez, we should put a bell on you”

. carlos and charles, drivers who’ve had loads of experience taking care of sick younger siblings, make a team effort of ensuring you’re doing your best to get better

. “did you drink the water bottle I gave you?”

. “no”

. “did you drink anything today?”

. “no”

. “oh mon dieu you’re going to kill yourself like this”

. “just try to eat this okay? i know you’re not hungry amiga, but we have a race tomorrow, you need to eat something”

. “i got you more medicine, this one says it should take care of the cough and sneeze so you won’t have to worry about it during the race”

. and then there’s george, your sick partner in crime

. you two make a habit of trapping yourselves in one of your driver’s room

. half to prevent the sickness from spreading further, half to just be left alone

. you guys complain a lot

. take turns choosing movies to watch to pass the time

. reminding the other to take medicine, even though there’s a good chance that person probably hasn’t taken any medicine either

. and passing a bag of cough drops between each other

. as a teammate and friend, lewis tries to talk you two out of racing

. but neither budge

. you get into your car, nose still red and voice still scratchy

. and power through the race, just as you’d been taught to do

. george gets a podium and you get a good points finish, the best results you could’ve asked for considering the conditions

. and stumble out of your car once more, looking for a tissue and that chicken soup recipe

. you get checked on by multiple drivers, though the only response you’re able to give is a nod and thumbs up

. lewis accompanies you on your flight back home, and tries to help as much as you let him

. he feels a bit victorious when you say you wished you’d listen to him and not raced

. but the feeling is instantly replaced with sympathy for his friend, so he just nods and tells you to get some more rest

. after making sure you’re safe at home and surrounded by family and friends that swear on their hearts to take care of you, lewis leaves with congratulations on your season finish and wishes to get better

. you’re fine within a few days, you name the cause of your sickness “end of season fatiague” and ensure the drivers you made a full recovery by wednesday night

. so yeah

. it’s not fun at all to drive while you’re sick

. but it’s a bit easier when you have your friends looking out for you

short little f1 grid sick fic. let’s hope I didn’t just manifest myself a cold