#Congestion Relief Drinks

[momilabs]

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[advisorsage]

Really feeling the medical anomaly part of chronic illness/pain type of disability.

[soobnny]

one in the morning — kim seungmin. roommate au. fluff. a little slice of life.

roommate seungmin takes care of you when you catch a cold (1.0k words)

“(Name). Wake up.”

It’s quiet in your shared apartment, save for Seungmin’s harsh whispers jolting you from your trance of sleep.

There’s a trace of grogginess in his voice, like he’d forced himself awake, you’re not quite sure. It’s a little difficult to focus on anything when every surface of your skin feels like it’s burning.

“(Name).” He tries again, cold hand tapping against your arm. He’s gentle with his actions. He knows it wouldn’t take much to jolt you awake in your state.

“Seungmin?” You croak, voice congested as a result of your fever.

When you open your eyes, your roommate makes it look like he hadn’t been hovering over you and trying to shake you awake for the past few minutes. He just stands back, glass of water and your prescribed medicine in hand.

He looks exhausted, messy hair indicative of just having woken up and you don’t miss the yawn that leaves his lips when he turns away from you for a second.

The big white shirt he’s wearing is a little lopsided that it exposes a bit of his collarbones.

“The doctor said you need to take this every 8 hours, right?”

It’s a rhetorical question. You know he knows. He’d practically dragged you to get yourself checked after you’d failed to hide your fever from him.

“Yeah.” You move to sit up, the sound of rustling sheets lingering in the silence. A quick glance at the clock on your bedside table will tell you it’s close to one in the morning. It’s too early to have shaken your roommate away from his sleep. You feel sorry.

Seungmin hands you the medicine and glass of water in his hands. “Here, drink this.”

You take the medicine from his hand, placing it on your tongue and chugging it down with water almost immediately, like you’ve been told. You would hate for the metallic taste of the drug to linger on your tongue lest you want to start vomiting.

Your roommate only takes the glass back after you've drank every last drop, feverishly placing it on your bedside table so he doesn’t make a mistake of dropping it.

“Just gonna check your temperature now, okay? Then you can go back to sleep.” His hand falls over your forehead, an evident frown tugging at his lips before shoving his hand down the pocket of his sweatpants to grab the thermometer he’d brought with him.

“Okay.” You yawn, rubbing your eyes.

“It might feel a little uncomfortable.” He uncaps the cover off of the thermometer before gently tapping at your chin, as if telling you to open your mouth so he can slip the thermometer tip under your tongue.

When he slips it in, the first thing you discern is how cold the metal feels in your mouth. The next is how warm his hand feels gently moving strands of your hair away from your face before falling limp by his side.

The device is uncomfortable, but you don’t want to bother Seungmin any more than you already have.

“You can close your mouth now, then we’ll just wait for it to beep.”

Seungmin does nothing for the 30 seconds it takes the thermometer to check your temperature, simply sits on the edge of your bed patiently. The way he attempts to keep his eyes open is almost endearing.

He must’ve had a long day today.

The thought makes your face twitch. Your roommate isn’t usually like this, always passive in the things you do, but there’s something about the way he’s taking care of you right now that suddenly makes you aware of how considerate he is about things you usually overlook.

Thinking about it makes your face hot, so you stop. You wouldn’t want to fool the small device in your mouth.

When the thermometer beeps, Seungmin takes it from your mouth gently, staring down at the little screen before sighing a little in relief. “A little better than your temperature this morning. How do you feel, though?”

“I can’t really tell.” You feel ridiculous for it. The least you can offer him is a little reassurance that his efforts at waking you up to take your medicine are slowly adding up to your betterment, but you genuinely cannot tell if you feel better or not.

“That’s alright. We’ll check again in the morning. You can go back to sleep now.”

Your mind is slow to process your roommate tucking you back in. It doesn’t see him taking the empty glass on your table and shuffling to leave the room. It can only hear the quiet patter of his feet and the heavy inhale and exhale of exhaustion from the boy.

You’re halfway back to surrendering yourself to sleep when you call his name. “Seungmin?”

He’s just about outside your door when he turns back and lets his eyes gaze over to you. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you that you can’t quite put a word to. It’s different to how he looks when it’s morning and you’re more aware.

“I’m really sorry for bothering you.” You think the guilt will swallow you whole if you keep letting it brew in your sternum, so you tell him. The words sound congested when they leave your mouth, but you hope he understood every single word.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

You could never be a bother sits on his tongue.

“Go back to sleep. I don’t have plans tomorrow so I’ll be here to take care of you.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking at you one final time before shutting the door closed behind him. He doesn’t give you a chance to protest.

A little digging will tell you he does have plans for tomorrow, and if you asked Jeongin he’d probably rat out his best friend and tell you how he’d asked to raincheck so he could stay and take care of you.

(“Jeongin, I can’t come tomorrow. Can we move it to Sunday?”

“Why?” He whines.

“...(Name) is sick.”

“Oh my god, you are hopeless. Dude, just tell her how you feel, it’s not that hard.”

“Goodbye.”

“Wait, tell her get well so—”)

Maybe if you were more awake, you would’ve noticed the little ways in which he cares for you. Maybe if your mind was a little sharper in processing things, you would’ve heard him saying he’d do anything for you, even if it was to sacrifice the sleep he values. Instead, you close your tired eyes and fall back to unconsciousness.

In the morning, you’ll be greeted by a hot bowl of soup and the company of a roommate who bears more feelings for you than you originally thought.

[siythn]

Sick & Soup

GOJOXREADER! You hate Gojo. Gojo hates you. It's the way everything's always been. But when you wake up in the middle of the night desperate for something to help your aching body, Gojo being the one to help makes you rethink your distaste for one another. _________ ♫ MASTERMIND - taylor swift ❝ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴏɴᴇ ᴏꜰ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀᴄᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛᴀʟ? ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀᴡ ᴍᴇ, ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡᴀꜱ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ꜱᴛᴏᴘ ᴍᴇ.❞

TAGS - @dottedsilktie @ophelias-fate @skadee @augaws @bruhm0mentum

When you feel that itchy feeling scratching your throat when you wake, you’ve never wanted to throw yourself out the window more.

You toss and turn in your bed as if it’s supposed to cure the discomfort, but the weight of unease presses down on you like a suffocating blanket. 

The darkness of the night feels more congested than usual, and an unshakable feeling of irritation gnaws at your insides. With a frustrated sigh, you reluctantly push aside the covers and swing your legs over the edge of the bed.

The dormitory is eerily quiet, with no quiet footsteps or words exchanged, the only sounds being the faint hum of the air conditioning.

Everyone else seems to be on a mission, leaving you alone in the silence of the night. Normally, the loneliness would be a break from the chaos Jujutsu Tech brought, but tonight it only adds to your sense of isolation.

You make your way to the kitchen, the cold tiles sending shivers up your spine—you would kill for some fuzzy socks at the moment. Your footsteps echo in the empty hallway, the sound bouncing off the walls with your faint sniffles. 

As you reach the kitchen, you rummage through the wooden cabinets in search of the medication you desperately need on tippy toes, knocking over a few bottles in the process. The darkness and thinking you could search for it without a light doesn’t help. 

“Oh thank god,” you whisper with a rasp just as you find the blue bottle, titled Bold with Ibuprofen. Pouring out a glass of water, you’re interrupted by a sudden noise that makes you freeze in place. 

Sure, you’ve had your fair share of horror films, but today, especially now, were you going to deal with something near that.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you slowly turn around, your eyes widening in alarm as you come face to face with the last person you expected to see at this hour.

"Gojo," you breathe out, your voice barely above a whisper. You can’t tell if it’s in relief or frustration.

He stands before you, his white hair catching the moonlight filtering in through the window. His blue eyes, normally holding mischief and arrogance, now pique a hint of curiosity as he stares you down with a raised eyebrow.

"What are you doing up so late, huh?" Gojo asks, his tone laced with amusement.

You bristle at his casual demeanor, the tension between you palpable in the air. Despite being classmates at Jujutsu Tech, you and Gojo have never seen eye to eye. His cocky attitude and reckless behavior never failed to get on your nerves, and you make no effort to hide your disdain for him.

Clearly, it worked both ways.

"I could ask you the same thing," you retort, lazily crossing your arms over your chest defensively.

Gojo chuckles, taking a step closer to you until there's a foot or two of space between you. Not to boost his enormous ego—but you can’t help but quiver at his presence. Being around him just feels suffocating, like a looming shadow threatening to engulf you whole.

"I couldn't sleep," he admits with a shrug, his voice softer now. You pick up on how it sounds, almost vulnerable? "Too much on my mind, I guess."

You raise an eyebrow in disbelief and scoff at his words. You refuse to let your guard down despite the sincerity in his tone. 

You've learned the hard way not to trust someone like Gojo, someone who thrives on chaos and unpredictability.

"Well, that's your problem, isn't it?" you snap, turning away from him to hide the unease flickering in your eyes. 

You pick up the cup, swallowing the blue pill before drinking a mouth full of water. Turning around to put the glass into the sink, you ignore the blue-eyed male, slightly brushing shoulders with him. As much as you hate his presence, the feeling of his eyes watching you is worse.

You can feel the air between the both of you crackling with some type of tension as you avoid his gaze, hoping he'll take the hint and leave you alone. But to your dismay, he doesn't budge, his curiosity only growing stronger with each passing moment.

"Come on, seriously, what are you doing up?" Gojo persists, leaning down to get closer to you, insisting on getting an answer.

He wasn’t stupid, he could probably pick up a hint or two from the pill you just swallowed. But of course, it’s Gojo, he would never just let you off without his snarky remarks.

You grit your teeth, frustration bubbling beneath the surface as you struggle to keep your composure. "I told you, I couldn't sleep. Is that such a crime?"

Gojo's eyes narrow slightly, a grin sneaking upon his lips. He knows his teasing is working, and you hate how you’re feeding into it. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?"

You roll your eyes, refusing to dignify his accusation with a response. But Gojo is relentless, his persistence wearing down your defenses like waves against a stubborn rock.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks suddenly, his tone softening as peers over your shoulder, watching you clean the cup with soap and a sponge.

You pause your movements, caught off guard by, what seems to be, concern in his voice. "I'm fine," you mutter, brushing off his question with a dismissive wave of your hand.

But Gojo isn't convinced, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of weakness. "You don't look fine," he observes, his brow furrowing. "You look more pale than usual, and you're trembling. Are you,” he pauses, gaze attentively looking over you again. “—sick?"

You bite back a retort, unable to deny the truth of his words. Despite your best efforts to hide it, the stillness of your body gives away the answer to him without words. 

"What's the matter, little Miss Perfect? Catch a cold from all that attitude?" Gojo taunts, his voice practically dripping with sarcasm.

You let out a huff of annoyance, swallowing back the retort that threatens to spill from your lips as you scrub the already clean cup harder. You try and block his presence out, but it’s seemingly impossible.

You know your silence doesn’t help you with his mocking, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you lose your cool again, even if his incessant teasing is enough to make you want to scream.

Rinsing the cup, you dry it off with the nearest towel, trying hard not to give in and smack him straight with it. You can’t hold back your words when you hear his deafening laugh as you put the cup away. 

"What's this?" you demand, turning around to face Gojo, who now leans against the counter with a smirk on his face. "Why are you still here?” you voice, glaring at him as you continue. 

“I mean, don’t you have better things do to than just pester me? Is that seriously how boring your life is? I’m starting to be convinced you’re worrying about me.”

Gojo chuckles a second time, his laughter ringing out against the walls. "Please, like I'd waste my time worrying about you," he scoffs, his tone present with disdain. "I just thought you might want some company since you're too weak to take care of yourself."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much," you snap while taking a breath.

But Gojo just shakes his head, his grin widening into a deeper smirk. "Sure you are," he says, his tone mocking. "Which is why you're up at the crack of dawn, looking like death warmed over."

You open your mouth to fire back a insult, but before you can get a word out, Gojo interrupts you with a wave of his hand. "Enough chit-chat," he declares, his tone surprisingly authoritative compared to his childish personality. “Sit. Stay."

You raise an eyebrow in disbelief, taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor. "Excuse me?" you sputter, too shocked to form a coherent response. You’re not a little kid, and you’re definitely not one to be ordered around.

But Gojo just nods towards the couch, his expression leaving no room for argument. "Sit," he repeats, his voice firm.

With a begrudging sigh, you do as he says, sinking onto the couch with a exaggerated sigh. Arms across your chest, you watch in bemusement as Gojo disappears into the kitchen, his movements loud and purposeful as he now rummages through the cabinets.

All you can hear is the clatter of pots and pans, punctuated by the occasional curse word muttered under Gojo's breath.

When a few minutes go by, you can't help but feel a twinge of curiosity as you wonder what he's up to, but before you can investigate further, Gojo emerges from the kitchen with a steaming bowl of soup in one hand and, a spoon in the other.

"Here," he says, thrusting the bowl and a spoon into your hands. "Eat this."

You blink in surprise, too taken aback by his unexpected gesture to formulate a response. Gojo just watches you expectantly, his arms crossed over his chest as he waits for your reaction.

With one last hesitant gaze at him, you take a sip of the soup, the warmth immediately spreading through your body like a comforting embrace.  It's delicious, and for a moment, you forget all about the animosity that usually exists between you and Gojo.

"Thank you,” you murmur, your voice soft but still heard enough to pick up the gratitude that comes from your words. 

Gojo shrugs, you don’t know if it’s the moonlight playing tricks on you—a faint blush colors his cheeks as he looks away. "Don't mention it," he mumbles, suddenly bashful.

You take another spoonful of soup, the cozy feeling spreading through your body and easing some of the discomfort you've been feeling. But as you do, the weight of Gojo's unexpected kindness hangs heavy in the air, stirring up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions inside you.

Despite the warmth of the soup and the comfort of the moment, you can't shake the resentment that still lingers between you and Gojo. Your hate for him runs a little deeper than some soup. 

"I still hate you, you know," you mutter under your breath, more to yourself than to Gojo.

But he hears you loud and clear, his expression shifting from bashful to contemplative as he regards you with a thoughtful gaze. "I know," he replies simply, his voice surprisingly gentle.

There's a brief moment of silence between the two of you. But then, it’s interrupted unexpectedly as Gojo lets out a soft chuckle, his laughter echoing off the walls of the dormitory.

"Well, lucky for you, my soup has magical healing powers," he jokes, flashing you a playful grin.

You roll your eyes, unable to suppress the small smile that tugs at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, keep telling yourself that," you retort, your tone teasing despite yourself.

Neither of you seems to know quite what to say, so you both fall into a comfortable silence, the only sound filling the room the soft clinking of utensils against bowls as you eat and his occasional heavy breaths.

As you finish the last spoonful of soup, you set the empty bowl down on the coffee table. That icky feeling in your throat is now gone but replaced with a strange mix of gratitude and confusion swirling inside you. 

Gojo wordlessly takes the bowl from you and carries it to the kitchen, his movements fluid and silent. You watch him go, feeling a pang of guilt tug at your conscience.

You try your best to maintain your animosity towards him, but his unexpected sincerity has left you feeling unsettled; and unkept. You don’t like it, at all.

When Gojo returns from the kitchen, he catches your eye and gives a small nod towards the hallway. 

It's a silent invitation, a gesture of understanding, that the both of you could hate each other later. But for now, you can just pretend. 

Nodding in response, silently grateful for him taking the push and making the first move. You push yourself up from the couch, and within a few seconds, you find yourself falling into step beside Gojo as you both make your way down the dimly lit hallway.

The silence between you is comfortable, the tension of earlier dissipating with each step you take, shoulders coming close to touching.  You can’t help but steal a glance at him, noticing the way the moonlight filters through the window, casting soft shadows across his features.

For the first time, you find yourself seeing him—not as the arrogant troublemaker you’ve always known him to be, but as a person, flawed and complex, just like you. That this is him. No stupid glasses, no stupid grin, no stupid remarks.

As you reach the end of the hallway, Gojo slows his pace, coming to a stop in front of your room. He turns to you, his expression unreadable within the dark corridors. 

The soft glow of the light spills through the window, casting a gentle illumination over the hallway, enveloping you both in its ethereal embrace. There's a moment of quiet stillness between you, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

You turn to face Gojo, intending to express your gratitude for his unexpected kindness. But as you open your mouth to speak, the words get caught in your throat, your voice failing you when you need it most. 

Instead, you find yourself simply staring at him, truly captivated by the way the light dances across his features, casting shadows and highlights that only serve to accentuate his natural charm.

Gojo's gaze meets yours, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. His blue eyes, ones that you resent to gaze at for too long— now hold a depth of emotion that makes you lose any sense of voice. 

In the silence of the night, you find yourself lost in his eyes, forgetting everything else but the brief connection that exists between you tonight. 

As the seconds tick by, neither of you says a word, as if content to simply bask in the warmth of each other's presence. You find your eyes trailing to the illumination that catches the strands of Gojo's white hair; ones that look soft to the touch.

Maybe Satoru Gojo isn’t all that bad.

His gaze lingers on your face, his eyes tracing the delicate curve of your lips for a brief moment. It's a subtle gesture, one that goes unnoticed by anyone but the two of you, but it sends a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins.

You feel your breathe stop as you catch the fleeting glance, your heart pounding in your chest as you wonder if perhaps, just maybe, there’s something more between you and Gojo than just petty distaste.

Maybe you had it wrong all this time.

For a moment, it feels as though time slows to a crawl as you wait with bated breath, half-expecting Gojo to lean in and close the distance between you.

But just as quickly as the moment comes, it passes, and Gojo takes a small step back, his expression unreadable as he breaks the trance you find yourself both in. 

You watch him closely, unable to tear your stare away from his face as you search for any sign of what he might be feeling. But Gojo's mask is firmly in place, keeping you from knowing his true intentions. 

You’re left with nothing but questions and the memory of that brief, thrilling moment between you.

But before you can dwell on the thought any longer, the sound of approaching footsteps as you both realize where you are, that it’s not just the both of you. With a start, you turn away from Gojo, feeling a flush of embarrassment wash over you.

"Mm, thank you," you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper as you glance back at him over your shoulder.

Gojo offers you a small smile, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he nods in response. "Anytime," he replies softly, his voice warm with sincerity.

And with that, you turn back to your door, the moment between you and Gojo fading into the past. 

With a shaky exhale, you feel a flush of embarrassment color your cheeks as you try to shake off the moment. It was in the heat of the moment, you try and convince yourself. 

But as you slip into your room and close the door behind you, you can't help but wonder what might have been if Gojo had chosen to act on his impulses. Would you have kissed him back? Would you have liked it? 

No, of course not. Why would you? The only real reason why you might even consider kissing him back was to get him sick, to get him back. 

Right?

AUTHORS NOTE! - pretty pls request stuff !! love to hear what you guys want me to write / gives me motivation and inspiration ᰔᩚ

@siythn all rights reserved!

[reverie-starlight]

jk I watched one of my favourite keigo edits on insta and I got inspired. happy birthday 2 me 🫶🏻 (the main fic I was working on is still coming, but idk when exactly 🥹)

fem!reader, no physical descriptions. pure birthday fluff with tiny little minuscule amounts of angst sprinkled in bc. well. it’s a birthday. I’m sick for my 20th, so reader is too 😔

you wake up to the sound of squeaky bedroom door hinges and a quiet but still enthusiastic rendition of happy birthday.

barely awake but just alert enough to realize what’s going on, you smile and turn over on your side to face keigo. he walks in slowly with a large bag around his wrist and a cupcake with slightly squished frosting in his palms.

he sits on his designated side of the bed (the one closer to the door since he insists on being your hero at all hours of the day) and waits for you to sit up against the headboard before sticking a candle into the dessert and lighting it for you.

“make a wish, baby,” he says. with how dark the room still is in the early morning, his face is lit up from the soft glow of the flame. warmth settles in your stomach as you watch the flickering reflection in his eyes and you can only think of one thing worth wishing for.

please let this last forever. don’t let me mess it up.

you blow out the candle and he cheers, moving to sit right next to you against the headboard. you lean your head on his shoulder and he happily feeds you pieces of cupcake, feathers working overtime trying to catch all of the crumbs before they reach the bed.

when you finish chewing a piece, he says, “how are you feeling?”

you shrug. “okay today, I think. better than yesterday, for sure- I feel like I can breathe again.”

you don’t miss how he winces at your voice, definitely less congested than the last few days, but sounding even more rough from lack of use overnight. you try to clear your throat, but it turns into a coughing fit. “drink some water, angel, don’t strain yourself.”

the stream of water soothes the itch and you sigh in relief. keigo, not phased one bit by your sickness, kisses your cheek, your nose, and then your lips. “I’m sorry you’re sick on your birthday, sweet girl.”

you shrug and try to play off how his nicknames are affecting you so early in the morning. “it’s okay, keigo, it could be a lot worse. a cold on my birthday isn’t the end of the world.”

his eyes soften. “yeah, but I know you were feeling more hopeful about things this year… it’s not often you get like that about your birthday, so I just wish the universe was on the same wavelength as us about that.”

you look down at your lap and pick at a loose string on the comforter. he must see your lips wobbling, because he slings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer.

it’s quiet for a second, but soon enough you’re sniffling in his arms and he knows it’s not your cold acting up.

“it’s okay, sweetheart, let it out.”

he understands birthdays are hard for you. he’s never pried into it, but he has his suspicions.

he could push, but he knows that your issues with your own birthday are far too deep-rooted to unpack in one morning before work. he’ll save it for a later date. right now all he wants is to see you smile again, so he’ll have to distract you from your thoughts.

“baby, you deserve the whole world. you know that, right?”

you shake your head. “I don’t, though. I don’t do anything deserving of what I’ve gotten so far… I don’t work hard enough, I don’t always make the best decisions for myself, I guess I’m a good person, but I could do so much better… I’m just so average. I barely even deserve-“

you end your rant with a half-hearted gesture in no particular direction, but he gets the idea and he frowns in concern.

“me? you don’t think you deserve…me?”

guilt keeps you from meeting his gaze again and he sighs.

his angel, his baby, the love of his life. the one. he just wants to take it all away.

you take things to heart too easily sometimes, so this moment might just be things you’ve let bubble up more recently… but his instinct and familiarity both tell him that these aren’t new feelings.

“sweet girl, I think it’s the other way around. I don’t think I’m very deserving of someone as incredible as you.”

you blink and finally meet his eyes again. “but…”

he doesn’t let you continue. “I would give you anything you asked for just for existing, baby. you don’t have to do a damn thing for my love.”

reaching over to grab the bag he had around his wrist earlier, he presents it to you with a wide grin and an excited glint in his eyes. “but I’ll start with this.”

you take the bag and pull out what looks like a scrapbook. the cover is decorated with foam stickers that spell out both of your names and badly cut paper hearts that look to be taken from sparkly card-stock. the book itself is made from faux-leather in your favourite colour.

your eyes travel up from the photo album to keigo, curiously. he’s happy to see a small smile forming on your face and he wipes away the last of your tears with a feather. “keigo, did you-“

he chuckles a little nervously. “I know it’s not the best work you’ve ever seen, but I wanted to make something by hand for you. I, um, I’ve never really done arts and crafts before.”

he recognizes the sound that comes out of your mouth to be the same one you make when you see a stray animal. he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not, but the smile on your face as you examine each page (twenty pages total, all hand decorated with printed pictures of you both documenting significant moments over the course of your relationship) makes him think the latter.

“I have other gifts for you, of course, but I know you’ve been talking about having a physical photo album instead of a digital one for a while now, so I thought I’d try it. If you don’t like it, that’s totally okay we can-“

you cut him off by throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him. “keigo, shut up, this is the sweetest gift I’ve ever received. there are songs associated with every picture. you’re literally so cute, where did you even get the idea for that?”

he laughs against your lips when you say that and shakes his head. “you’re joking, right? you always have a song for every occasion, how could I pass up on the opportunity?”

you press your lips against his again and he melts into it, relived that you like his first (of many) gift.

he watches you flip through it a couple more times with a smile before taking it and placing it on the nightstand. “alright, birthday girl, you can go back to sleep if you’d like.”

“you’re going to work?” you try to keep the disappointment out of your voice, but he hears it anyway and he’s so happy he planned for this.

“nope! I’m all yours today. I booked it off months ago, I just want you to rest up a bit more. you’re still sick, remember?”

he snickers when your hopeful smile drops at the mention of your cold. “ugh don’t remind me. but if I’m going back to sleep, you’re coming with me. you don’t have an excuse anymore and it’s my birthday, so I have some sway.”

“you always have sway, baby,” he says while getting under the covers with you.

“yeah, but I’m extra convincing today,” you argue, and he knows if he doesn’t curb the conversation right now, you’ll never fall back asleep.

“alright, alright, come here. just rest,” he tugs you down to lay on his chest and reaches under your shirt to caress your back.

“hey keigo?” you ask after a minute, voice once again riddled with sleep.

“mhm?”

“when you eventually get sick and I have to take care of you, can we add to the scrapbook some more?”

it’s a given that you would continue it together, but he doesn’t say that because he knows you’re too tired for the realization to hit you yet. so instead he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “of course, angel. that sounds great.”

you’re lulled to sleep a few minutes later to the sound of his voice whispering the sweetest of sweet nothings.

“happy birthday, baby.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

okay this is unedited bc it’s not even 7 am while I’m typing this and I don’t have time later to change anything, so I’M SORRY 😭

the other bday fic is coming I swear 🥹

[jrreigns]

In Sickness

Day 10: Zesty | Drabble Challenge 2024

CW: Levi x fem!reader, civilian!reader

A/N: Takes place in the same universe as Letters from the Other Side. Part of Drabble Challenge 2024.

Credit to @cafekitsune for the dividers!

Without Ackerman powers, illness affected Levi much more frequently. It began with an itch in the back of his throat before it turned to full on congestion, making him irritable.

Levi willed his body to try and fight the sickness on his own. He hates being sick, hates how weak he’s gotten.

One night, you shove a mug towards him and utter a single drink. He sips reluctantly and is met with the zesty taste of lemon mixed with honey. A soothing relief follows.

“It’s good.” You smile, before coming to caress his cheek. You chuckle as Levi’s face burns.

[kana2025]

Jaehyun (NCT) taking care of you when sick

Word Count: 800+

Genres: Fluff/comfort, Romance

Synopsis: When the reader falls ill, Jaehyun steps in to care for them, showing his love through homemade soup, soothing teas, and comforting gestures.

________________________

You woke up feeling the telltale signs of an impending cold: a scratchy throat, a pounding headache, and a heavy weight in your chest. Groaning, you tried to sit up, but the effort only made you feel worse.

Jaehyun, your boyfriend, had already noticed your discomfort. He gently placed a hand on your forehead, his brows furrowing in concern. "You're burning up," he said softly. "Stay in bed, I'll take care of everything."

Too exhausted to argue, you nodded weakly and lay back down. Jaehyun kissed your forehead before leaving the room, the warmth of his lips contrasting with the chills running through your body.

A few minutes later, he returned with a tray. On it were a bowl of steaming soup, a glass of water, some medicine, and a damp cloth. He set the tray down on your nightstand and helped you sit up, propping pillows behind your back for support.

"Here, drink some water first," he said, handing you the glass. You sipped gratefully, the cool liquid soothing your sore throat. Next, he handed you the medicine, and you swallowed it down, hoping it would kick in soon.

Jaehyun sat beside you on the bed, spoon-feeding you the soup he had made. Each spoonful was filled with love and care, and you couldn't help but feel a little better just from his presence. "Thank you," you mumbled between bites.

"Anything for you," he replied with a gentle smile. "Just focus on getting better, okay?"

After you finished the soup, Jaehyun wiped your mouth with the damp cloth and tucked you back under the covers. He turned on a humidifier to help with your congestion and dimmed the lights in the room. "Do you need anything else?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

You shook your head. "Just stay with me," you whispered.

Jaehyun climbed into bed next to you, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "I'll be right here," he promised. "Get some rest."

With Jaehyun by your side, you felt a sense of comfort and security wash over you. Despite your illness, his presence made everything seem a little bit better. As you drifted off to sleep, you knew that with Jaehyun taking care of you, you'd be back to your old self in no time.

Hours passed, and when you woke up again, the room was dimly lit by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Jaehyun was still beside you, scrolling through his phone with one hand while the other remained securely around your waist. He looked over as soon as he felt you stir.

"Hey," he said softly, setting his phone aside. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit better," you replied, though your voice was still raspy. "Thank you for taking care of me."

Jaehyun brushed a strand of hair away from your face. "Of course, love. Do you want anything to eat or drink?"

You shook your head, but then paused. "Maybe some tea? Something soothing for my throat."

"Coming right up," he said, giving you a quick kiss before slipping out of bed.

You watched him disappear into the kitchen, feeling grateful for his attentiveness. Minutes later, he returned with a cup of chamomile tea, steam curling from the top. He handed it to you carefully. "It's hot, so sip it slowly."

The tea was perfect, and you closed your eyes as the warmth spread through you. "This is exactly what I needed," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jaehyun smiled, his eyes filled with relief. "I'm glad. Now, let's get you comfortable again."

He helped you settle back under the covers, making sure you were tucked in snugly. Then, he pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down, keeping a watchful eye on you. "How about a movie?" he suggested. "Something light and fun to take your mind off things."

You nodded, appreciating his effort to lift your spirits. He turned on the TV and selected a feel-good movie, the kind that never fails to make you smile. As the movie played, Jaehyun occasionally glanced over at you, ensuring you were comfortable and content.

Throughout the day, he remained by your side, fetching more soup, refilling your water, and even running a warm bath when you felt too achy. Each small act of kindness made you feel loved and cared for in a way words couldn't express.

In the evening, after another round of medicine and a final check of your temperature, Jaehyun climbed back into bed with you. "You seem to be doing a bit better," he remarked, his voice full of hope.

"Thanks to you," you replied, snuggling closer to him. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

He kissed the top of your head, his embrace warm and reassuring. "You never have to find out," he whispered. "I'll always be here to take care of you."

As you drifted off to sleep once more, enveloped in Jaehyun's arms, you felt a deep sense of gratitude and love. Even though you were sick, you realized just how lucky you were to have someone like Jaehyun in your life, someone who would go to any length to make sure you were safe, comfortable, and loved.

——————————————-

[budzdorovanatasha]

29. Sick on a Road Trip

+

Alts 4. Flushed Cheeks

Please? (It’s wonderful to see you back online!)

Thank you for your request! I'm happy to be back :))

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Natasha wanted a road trip for your vacation week. When you'd asked her why, she said she wanted something mundane. You'd shrugged, not really caring what you did as long as you did it with her.

A day before the trip, you'd been exhausted. You weren't sure why but you'd spent half the day sleeping. Natasha thought it was odd, but mostly thought you were just tired from all the work you'd been doing.

"You okay?" she asked as you laid in bed, watching something on the TV. You nodded against her, your head on her chest. Your eyes were still fluttering shut.

"You've slept most of the day," Nat mused, her fingers trailing up and down your spine.

"Just tired," you mumbled, inhaling and drinking in her scent. She hummed but didn't say anything.

The next morning you woke at dawn, put your bags in the car, and set off, Natasha at the wheel. You rarely drove, preferring to sit comfortably in the passenger and be teased about being a 'passenger princess' by your girlfriend.

You thought it was the early hour that brought a certain level of haziness and congestion. But as the sun came up, so did the frequent sniffles and flushed cheeks.

After your third sneeze in ten minutes, Natasha looked over at you, blessing you softly. Her sharp eyes took in your skin and her brows furrowed.

"You're flushed." Her voice was just barely above a whisper.

"Just the sun," you responded, voice raspy.

"You're congested," she fired back quietly.

"Just normal morning-"

"Y/N," she interrupted softly, her right hand coming to rest on your thigh. "Please don't hide from me."

You sighed, looking out the passenger window.

"I don't really know what I'm feeling," you said quietly. All you knew was that you didn't feel right. And there was no way you were stopping your trip until you were certain.

"You'll tell me when you do?"

You nodded. She cleared her throat and you finally looked to her. She had an eyebrow raised.

"Yes, Natasha, I will tell you."

She seemed satisfied with that and focused on the road, her hand remaining on your thigh, thumb rubbing soothingly whenever you gave a stuffy sniffle or let out a soft sneeze.

An hour later, your head pounded every other second, the pressure behind your eyes hitting an all-time high, and you couldn't breathe through your nose to save your life. You pinched the bridge of your nose in hopes of it providing any semblance of relief; it did not.

"Nat-" you tried, your voice barely there. You caught her wince at the sound. "I think I'm sick."

"Oh, love, I think so too. Let's go home, yeah? You want to stop somewhere for the day and rest?"

You shook your head. "No, I'd rather be at home."

"Okay. Just try and rest. We'll be there in a little while."

[goldenempyrean]

Not Quite A Cure

〚 Day 2 - Quest for a Cure 〛

〚 Pairing - WandaNat x R 〛

〚 Summary - When Natasha is miserable beyond belief, it’s up to the two of you to try and get her feeling better 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙〘 Sicktember 2023 Masterlist 〙

“Natasha you can’t cure the common cold.” You sighed for what must’ve been the fifth time that evening as the sniffly Widow pouted miserably, “Not even Wanda’s magic can do that, you’ve just gotta ride it out honey.” 

That answer didn’t seem to please your girlfriend however because she simply mumbled something because pulling the surrounding blanket more tightly around herself. 

“Cant you go on a quest for a cure or something? Go pester Bruce for one.” She sniffled miserably

 She wasn’t usually like this when she was sick. Normally she’d be stomping around insisting that she was fine, and that’s what she had been doing, for the first few days at least. Now she was on day 5 and much to her annoyance, wasn’t feeling any better at all. So, she’d decided to give the opposite route a try – wallowing in her misery. 

You watched as Natasha continued to pout, her nose red and her voice barely more than a croak when she muttered, "It’s so stupid! I can't even breathe properly, and my head feels like it's going to explode." 

You couldn't help but sympathise as you ran your hand through her messy hair, "I know, sweetheart," you said softly, placing a hand on her forehead, which was burning with fever, “You’ll be okay though, I promise.” 

Just as you were contemplating how to lift her spirits, the door to the bedroom creaked open, and in walked Wanda, carrying a tray with a steaming cup of tea. She wore a gentle smile as she offered out the hot drink, “Here baby, drink this, okay?” 

Natasha accepted it gratefully, trying to hide her wince of discomfort as she pushed herself to sit up in the bed, “You really can't just magic this away?” She looked up to Wanda with her glassy, green eyes, trying to cling onto the last glint of hope she had. 

“It doesn’t work like that Tasha, I’m sorry.” The witch murmured apologetically, “Technically I could alleviate your symptoms a little, it’d only be temporarily but they’d only come back worse, and we don’t want that, do we?” 

The redhead only shook her head as she sipped the hot liquid. It didn’t have the intended effect however as she ending up coughing and spluttered on the tea instead. It was a chesty, congested cough, one made which her misery obvious. 

“Poor girl.” You mumbled, handing her a tissue to which she spat into and wrinkled her face in disgust 

She crumpled up the tissue, leaning over to throw it in the wastebasket by the side of the bed, “Ugh, sorry.” She apologised weakly, clearing her throat to rid her voice of its raspy undertone. 

Wanda shook her head as she softly rubbed her shoulder, “You don’t need to apologise, now I know we can’t exactly cure this but do you wanna try and clear out of some of that congestion?” She offered, looking towards the bathroom. 

You picked up what she was hinting at and slipped out of the bed and headed into it, leaving Wanda to bring Natasha when she was ready. You shut the bathroom door behind you and turned the shower onto the highest setting. 

Before long, the room was filled with hot steam, enough to bring you to a light sweat. As if on cue, the door behind you opened a little, and in shuffled your two girlfriends. 

Nat had changed from her hoodie and into a thin vest top at Wanda’s request - she didn’t want her to overheat.  You moved to cup your girlfriend’s face, somehow under the bright LEDs she somehow looked paler, her red cheeks and nose becoming more prominent. 

She took a deep breath, the warm mist instantly soothing her irritated airways. She closed her eyes, leaning forward slightly to allow the steam to surround her. Her shoulders relaxed, and her expression shifted from one of misery to one of slight relief. 

You watched as Natasha's chest rose and fell, the steam gradually working its magic. Minutes passed, and then suddenly, Natasha let out a pronounced and unexpected "Hhi-hh’tshhu!” She inhaled deeply and then sneezed again, "Hh’tschoo!” 

“Bless you darling.” Wanda whispered, heading back to the bedroom to fetch the box of tissues, “The steam helping a little honey?” She asked, handing her the box. 

The assassin nodded, taking the box as she sat down on the floor, “A little.”  

“Just keep breathing the steam in sweetheart.” You instructed, as the two of you kneeled down to sit beside her, “It’ll get rid of all that nasty gunk in your head.” 

As the minutes passed, the warmth and moisture continued to work their soothing magic on her congested sinuses. She let out another gentle "Hh..Hii’shu!" as she rested her head against Wanda’s shoulder, her body feeling heavy with fatigue. 

Wanda ran her hand through the redhead’s dampening hair, “Try to stay awake sweetheart, I know you’re tired.” She handed her another tissue when Nat leant away to sneeze yet again, murmuring a soft ‘bless you’ in Sokovian as she did so.  

Natasha shook her head, before blowing her nose, “Mm’not gonna fall asleep.”  

Oh but she did. 

Still, neither one of you had the heart to wake her when the redhead’s tired eyes fell closed once more and you could feel her grow relaxed against your front as she gave into the lure of sleep. 

“She’s exhausted.” Wanda sighed, coming to sit beside you, letting you lean your head onto her shoulder as the two of you kept Nat close-by. 

“Should we get her into bed?” You whispered, rubbing your thumb over the witch’s hand before tucking a dampened strand of hair behind her ear, “You’re tired too love.” 

“We both are but let’s just stay here for a little bit.” She murmured, looking down lovingly at her sleeping girlfriend. 

“Okay, just for a little while.” 

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[honeybadger-has-a-grimoire]

Lemon Ginger Infused Honey | Clover’s Cookbook

Hey everyone, it’s Clover here and this is the Lemon Ginger Honey Infusion!

Originally, this recipe was passed down to me through my mom who learned it from my paternal grandmother. We found around the time I was in third or fourth grade that over the counter medicine was starting to lose effect on me, so my grandma told my mom this recipe to see if it helps. And, to everyone’s relief, it did!

(Although, Mini Clover was not a fan of the taste originally—it’s grown on me immensely.)

My mom needed to tell me that it was “Magic Tea” to get me to drink it. And, after trying Theraflu a year or two later, I agreed that: “yes, it was magic because it was medicine that tasted better than anything else”. Now this infusion is my go-to cold cure.

(I also drank almost half of my batch that I made almost a year and a half ago when I was laid up in bed with the flu in March. That thing is very shelf-stable.)

Without any more preamble, here’s the recipe!

What you will need:

An airtight container

Fresh Lemons, I usually use three or four but it depends on the size of the container.

Fresh Ginger, I usually use a handful of ginger root but it depends on the size of the container.

Honey

How to make it:

1. Rinse and slice the lemons and ginger

You can shred the ginger if you like, but I usually slice it up whenever I use it. Shredding ginger takes a lot of time that I personally do not have—and our grater is a pain to wash.

2. Layer the sliced ginger and lemon on top of each other in the airtight container, getting as close to the top as possible.

I use an empty instant coffee container, if you want ideas for it. It is a bit larger than I need, since I’m the only one in the house that drinks this infusion when I’m sick, but the trade off is that I know it’s airtight and there will be enough for at least a year. You can use mason jars or any other airtight containers you have on hand. The old instant coffee jar is just my suggestion.

3. After layering the lemon and ginger in the airtight container, add the honey. You want to fill the honey all the way to the top of the container if possible. If you can’t, at least so it covers the top layer of the lemon-ginger tower.

You will probably be using all the honey in the bottle, just so you know. When I first did this myself, I was unaware how much honey I needed and had to go out and buy another bottle because the container was bigger than expected. So just a heads up.

4. Seal the airtight container and let sit out overnight then place it in the fridge a month before use.

So I was unaware until recently that, for max potency and a proper infusion of the ingredients, you want your honey infusions to sit for a month before use. I just ended up getting super lucky the past few times I made it because I replenish my infusion when the house runs out, not when I need it right away. So my suggestion is make it in late July or Early August, that way it sits the month and you have it for cold and flu season.

5. Add to your preferred tea when sick and drink it throughout the day. For me, doing this kicks whatever is brewing in my system—and usually works in about a day for the few people I’ve given the infusion to. But take it as long as you think you need it, you’re the only one who knows your body.

Why this works:

Lemon:

Lemon is high in vitamin C which helps boost the immune system and shorten the duration of colds.

Vitamin C is also helpful to lower your risk of heart disease and stroke (healthline.com), which aren’t important to this cold cure, but good to know anyway.

Hot Lemon Water is also good for sore throats and congestion in a 2008 study, as per medicalnewstoday.

Ginger:

Ginger is good for the gut as it helps settle stomachs, and the bitterness of the root kicks your digestive system into overdrive to clear out what the body considers to be possibly poison due to the taste (any Holistic Herbalism podcast episode where Ginger is involved).

Ginger’s anti inflammatory properties also help reduce pain and inflammation with a sore throat you usually get with a cold, as per this medicalnewstoday article (link here).

Ginger is also antiviral and antibacterial just like lemons are. So it helps get rid of any unwanted viruses or bacteria building up because of the cold, flu, etc.

Important note about ginger—if you or a loved one is on blood thinners don’t take ginger. Ginger’s chemical compounds will have a reaction with your blood thinners and make the blood super thin. This will cause excessive bleeding that is potentially life threatening.

Honey:

Honey is a natural cough suppressant and throat-soother. It is also antimicrobial. A Harvard Health article (link here) indicated that honey works well for upper respiratory viruses (such as a cold) and some studies observed that taking honey shortened the duration of the cold in some participants.

Conclusion:

Well that’s it! That’s my Lemon Ginger Honey Infusion that I have with my tea when I’m sick. My preference as a tea pairing with this concoction is usually Moroccan Mint, Peace of Mind Tea, or just normal green tea.

It depends on what we have in the house.

I usually pour it into the tea with the intent of helping me feel better soon as well. Just to add a boost of magick to an already great cold cure.

Have any of you tried this before? Do you have alternatives for this cold cure? If so, tell me!

Thank you all for reading and have a wonderful day!

[momilabs]

All-Natural Drinks for Allergy Relief, Congestion, and Morning Energy

Natural Allergy Drinks: Tired of seasonal allergies? Try these natural remedies in liquid form. Chamomile tea infused with honey and lemon can soothe irritated throats and reduce allergy symptoms. Ginger and turmeric shots possess anti-inflammatory properties, aiding in sinus congestion relief. Nettle tea, a natural antihistamine, can provide allergy relief when sipped throughout the day.

 Congestion Relief Drinks: Combat nasal congestion with these effective concoctions. A warm cup of peppermint tea can ease sinus pressure, while eucalyptus-infused steam inhalations can help clear airways. Golden milk, made with turmeric and almond milk, has anti-inflammatory benefits. Additionally, hot broths with garlic and chili can help relieve congestion and boost immunity.

morning energy drink: Kickstart your day with a natural energy boost. Combine fresh orange juice with a shot of wheatgrass for a vitamin-packed elixir. Matcha green tea, rich in antioxidants and caffeine, can provide sustained energy without the jitters. A smoothie made with spinach, banana, and almond milk offers a nutritious morning pick-me-up. These drinks will help you start your day with vitality and focus. Here check for more details: https://momilabs.com/product/morning-miracle 

[skyloftian-nutcase]

I woke up with a sore throat and sneezing.

If you feel up to it, how would one of the healthcare AU boys handle waking up sick?

Legend knew it was going to be a pin when he woke up feeling congested. His stomach clenched uneasily, not quite nauseous but definitely not comfortable. His head pounded, his throat ached, and he was already over this.

I swear, if this is War’ head cold I’m gonna clobber him.

For a second, he felt relief - he could call out from work since he was sick! - and then he remembered that he worked in healthcare, that nobody cared if he was sick, that this was just a head cold and he would have to suck it up and deal with it.

He remembered Wind one time wishing everyone got sick so they would get a break, and Time had said what they’d all been thinking: “No, then we’d just be working and miserable.”

Trilling out a breath through his lips, he dragged himself out of bed. Some cold medicine would hold him over. He hopefully put a hand to the back of his head, feeling a little warm, but even a fever wouldn’t stop him from getting an occurrence if he called out, so there was no point in checking.

“Typical,” he grumbled as he wandered into the kitchen. There was some cold medicine that was still half full, so he took the prescribed about and washed it down with an energy drink before brushing his teeth and washing his face. His stomach… did not appreciate the concoction, so he carefully sipped some ginger ale to try and settle it.

His mood was certainly sour as he drove to work, but he tried to rationalize with himself. This did just feel like a bad cold - there was no point in lamenting not missing work, because there was no point in not going in. A cold wasn’t an excuse. It wasn’t like he was dying. He’d worked through far worse.

But the fact that he had to be sick while working was a pain.

When he trudged into the ED, Warriors shot him a suspicious look. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Legend grunted hoarsely. “Just a cold.”

“That’s what you get for working straight nights,” Wars commented with a click of his tongue. “Destroys your immune system.”

“So says the guy who sounded like a congested goose the other night,” Legend snapped. “Pretty sure you’re the one who got me sick!”

“That was allergies! I don’t have a cold!” Warriors argued.

Someone sneezed, making the two whirl in their direction to see Wild leaning against a stretcher, looking pale and miserable.

“It was you, wasn’t it!” Legend accused.

Wild blinked, confused. “Me?”

“You’re getting everyone sick,” Wars joined in. “Put a damn mask on!”

Wild rolled his eyes. “I’ve been wearing a—hey!!”

The transporter hissed as Legend and Warriors armed themselves with alcohol wipes and sanitation spray, warding him off like some hellspawn before grumbling as they got their assignments for the night.

[kieraelieson]

"One Emo Latte, with Extra Soulmates"

Chapter Two

Roll the Poll fic 1: Janus, Virgil, and Remy in a triad. In a Hurt/Comfort fic with a Soulmates universe and the prompt ‘housing’. AO3

Content warning for kidnapping, fear of death, quite a bit of cursing, as well as societal and specific poly-phobia, resulting in violence.

Virgil was going to die. 

He’d thought he could just slip into the apartment and to his room with everyone asleep, but Roger was still up, and saw him immediately. He confronted Virgil, ruining all plans of laying low as his words quickly became yelling. Virgil tried to defend himself, that he couldn’t help how many soulmates he had, and he hadn’t even met them! But Roger didn’t care. He wanted Virgil out. 

Virgil, with a confidence built only of the coffee he could still taste on his tongue, had refused to leave. He’d thought that, angry as they might get, his roommates wouldn’t actually escalate to physically pushing him out. 

Oh how wrong that was. 

His ribs still ached from the several hits they’d absorbed before he’d been shoved out the door. And his head was spinning and aching from the impact against the coffee table. 

And also the fact that he was going to die. 

That guy with the hat was doing some, some drug deal or something, who knew, and Virgil like a supreme dumbass had opened his mouth. 

Tall, big, and stinky had grabbed him, an arm wrapped around both of his, pinning them to his torso, and the other hand clamped over his nose and mouth. He couldn’t scream, couldn’t get the breath to. All his kicking and wriggling hadn’t been enough before he was pulled into the car. 

And now they were driving away. 

He was So Dead. 

The guy holding him shifted the hand over his face once the car was moving, uncovering his nose so Virgil could breathe freely. He sucked in air, tears beginning to leak from his eyes. 

He was the fucking worst, unluckiest son of a bitch to ever exist. Two soulmates, homeless now, kidnapped. And they didn’t have masks on. No masks meant he could recognize them, and they wouldn’t leave him alive. 

He was going to die. 

He didn’t want to die! 

His whole life he’d been looked down on or bullied for having two soulmates but he’d never even met them! He wanted to at least see them before he died. 

Virgil’s breath came faster, catching in his congested nose and making him panic. He needed to breathe! He couldn’t breathe! 

His chest heaved with sobs and his desperate attempts to get air. 

“Might get loud,” the man holding him said, and then abruptly the hand over Virgil’s mouth was gone. 

Virgil gasped, drinking in the air. Without the cover over his mouth his sobs rang out loud in the otherwise silent car. If he wasn’t so thoroughly miserable and about to die anyway he would’ve been embarrassed, might’ve managed to stop himself, but he just couldn’t. 

“I don’t wanna— Please, don’t kill me!” He forced out between sobs. 

“We’re not going to kill you,” the driver snapped. 

He didn’t know if he could believe it. But even without a single assurance that it was the truth, relief flooded through Virgil. 

“I didn’t see anything,” he blurted. “I-I don’t have a clue who you are. I don’t know what you were doing. I d-don’t know anything. I swear I won’t tell anyone anything!” 

The driver made a frustrated sound. “Just— shut up.” 

Virgil fell silent, other than his breath coming in hiccuping half-sobs. 

“What is our plan, Jannie?” The man holding him asked. 

The driver made a rough, growling sound. “For now, I’m getting us out of town. We’ll have to find a way to manage him without you carrying him everywhere so I can drop you off. I’ll figure out what to do from there. And I’ll need to keep the car.” 

“I’ve got duct tape!” The man said, entirely too happily. 

Virgil squirmed against his hold, trying to get his arms free to— to— to make a nuisance of himself at least. Of the two men, one had recognized his need to breathe, and the other had told him to shut up. He liked his living chances better with both of them than just the one. 

But the man holding Virgil was far too strong for him to fight against, and soon Virgil was pressed down into a car seat, his arms pulled behind his back. He bit back another sob as his wrists were taped together, and then the tape wound around his torso and arms haphazardly. 

“Check him for anything dangerous,” the driver said. “And anything he could use to contact someone.” 

A chill ran down Virgil’s spine. He was gonna die anyway, wasn’t he? 

••^*^••

Janus’s mind had been nothing but a steady stream of ‘Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck’ ever since he’d heard the crash in that apartment. 

Now he had a man tied up in the car, terrified for his life, and no idea what to do with him. 

Now that he had the folder, Janus’s plans had been to buckle down and work on the contents. It would take him days, and that was if he managed to be fast enough. He didn’t have Time for a problem like this! 

And even if he Had time, that still left the question of what was he going to do?? He couldn’t let him go, that was obvious. He definitely wasn’t going to kill him. The only other option seemed to be keeping him, but that wasn’t at all viable long term. 

At least for the moment though, Janus couldn’t see any other options. 

Remus had flipped up the man’s hood over his eyes, so he couldn’t look out and around at where they were as they approached a place where Janus could drop Remus off. He also properly buckled him in before he got out, a thing he ought to have done ages ago. Since then, the man had been quiet. 

Janus drove, looping around and doubling back multiple times on his way to his house. The less the man knew about where they were and how to get back, the better. 

Janus sighed heavily as he parked. His gut was already twisted in knots, his conscience screaming with how much he’d already done to this random person. And here he was about to scare him more. 

He pulled out the gun he knew Remus had hidden in the car, pointing it at the man, held low enough that he could see it under the hood. 

The man stiffened, but Janus didn’t give him time to beg for his life again. He didn’t think he’d manage to hold onto him at all if he did. He was cursed with a bleeding heart and if this man begged again he might just let him go and fuck all the consequences. 

“You’re going to stay quiet.” Janus commanded. “You’re going to come with me into the building, and you’re going to do everything I say.” 

The man nodded rapidly, his breathing getting fast and shallow. 

“I don’t want to bother keeping this gun pointed at you the whole time, but be assured I will always have it on hand.” 

The man nodded again. 

Janus tucked the gun into his waistband, wishing he’d had the forethought to bring a holster. Then he got out of the car. When he opened the back door, the man stayed silent, as he’d been told to. Janus undid the buckle and guided him into the house. 

He breathed slightly easier once he was inside the house with the door locked. 

Now what? 

He couldn’t just start in on work with curious eyes wandering around. 

It was nearly seven now. Maybe he’d make breakfast. 

He knew he was just continuing to push the real problem down the road, but he hadn’t come up with any answers. 

Janus left the man standing in the dining room and started looking through his fridge. He wanted something that would take a bit of time. Push that problem just a bit further before he reached a point where he had to deal with it. 

He finally pulled out some vegetables and started chopping them. He took his time slowly making complex omelets, only looking towards his captive when the man maneuvered his way to the floor to sit. 

Unfortunately, even after the long cooking, Janus didn’t have any better ideas. This was so far out of the realm of what he expected he’d never planned for it, never considered it before. 

He carried the plates into the dining room and set them at the table. He helped pull the man up so he could sit in a proper chair. Then he flipped back his hood. 

It was the first real look he’d gotten at the man’s face. Janus swallowed. His… very pretty face. If he wasn’t careful this would be Remy all over again, only worse because he’d already drug this man so deep into his mess he couldn’t see a way to get him out again. 

Janus’s second reaction was pity. The man was blinking in the brighter light, out from under the shade of his hood, and his face was tearstained and red, streaked with black eyeshadow. Janus also noticed a large bump near the back of his head. 

He gently probed it, concerned as the man winced, trying to duck away from his hand. This was recent. Remus hadn’t knocked him around any. It must have been in the commotion in the apartment. 

Janus went back to the kitchen. He got a cloth and dampened it, then also got an ice pack. 

“If I take off the tape, you will not attempt to attack me or run away,” Janus said. He’d found that in many cases, phrasing questions as statements and statements as questions tended to throw off the other person, and he got what he wanted more easily. 

The man nodded silently. Janus remembered that he’d told him to be quiet earlier. He moved behind the man, cutting at the tape with scissors. “You’re welcome to speak, so long as you aren’t loud.” 

“Thanks,” the man muttered. 

“Are you in pain?” Janus asked, considering whether this was a simple ice and ibuprofen type of situation, or whether he would need to attempt further first aid. 

The man shrugged, picking up the cloth and cleaning his face, then holding the ice pack to the bump on his head. 

Janus rolled his eyes at the non-response. “Would you object to taking painkillers?” 

That prompted a quiet, “No.” 

Janus retrieved the bottle, opening it in plain view so it could be seen he wasn’t switching the pills with anything. He got two cups of water, and then sat down to eat his own, rather cool by now, breakfast. 

“What’s gonna happen now?” The man asked, looking up at Janus. 

His gaze was piercing, possibly even more so because he didn’t intend it to be. Janus feigned nonchalance. 

“I’m not telling you. You’ll find out as it happens.” 

He could see a faint shudder run through the man. He didn’t have a better answer though, for him or for himself.

••^*^••

Remy had been thinking about Virgil ever since he left. He hoped it had gone well, getting picked up by his soulmate. 

It drew his mind to his own soulmates. At a young age they’d come to realize how dangerous it was to be three, and they tried to spare each other the danger. 

He didn’t know either of their names. Didn’t know where they lived. What they did for work. Nothing. He hadn’t even contacted them in several weeks. 

He wanted to. 

The desire built up over the remainder of his shift, and when he got home Remy caved to it.  He scrawled in sharpie, high up on his thigh where it wouldn’t be easily noticed regardless of what he chose to wear, Heya. How’s it going?

[winters-mistress]

The Tenderness of a Wolf

Normally, Ciri wakes up in cold sweats, shaking from the memories of the fire and the smoke and the feeling of Lazlo's body slumping over her, of the feeling of Calanthe's blood underneath her fingernails, of Eist kissing her forehead before he went to war, or of Mouseack's poor body mutilated somewhere as somebody wears his face like a child wears a mask just before the winter frost.

She normally cries when she wakes up, her body so exhausted from her dreams but her fear keeping her from reliving those horrible few weeks, when her heart and her home were taken from her. Normally, she will compose herself and wipe her face clean and cover it in ice cold water to soften the puffiness of her cheeks and rejoin her new family of burly mutated men who have gruff voices and big muscles yet tender hearts she's only now beginning to see.

But today is not like those days. Today she wakes up and the first thing that happens if not a cascade of salty water flowing warn down her cheeks, it's a coughing fit so hard that it shakes her entire body, loud and barking and sore on her already ravaged throat, tasting the horrible bitter thick fluid that flies put of her chest in thick yellowish-green slug shapes, her chest and ears cracking with every motion.

She's too hot and she's too cold at the same time, her body burning from the inside yet the air around her is so cold she wants to burrow into the heat behind her. Her head hurts and she's confused and her temples pound and there's weight against her ribs and she doesn't understand what's happening and she coughs and coughs and coughs and she can't breathe and-

"Shh, cub." A low voice rumbles in her ear. It takes her a stupidly long time to realise who it is and why he's there.

It's Geralt. Of course it's Geralt. He had stuck by her the whole night when all of the witchers had noticed how her skin had started to pale and her body body begin to sweat despite the freezing cold temperatures of the keep, when Vesemir had placed a hand to her forehead when she had refused her favourite dinner of venison steaks with crispy, salted potatoes with winter greens and sweet roasted carrots, and had promptly sent her to bed with hot tea and a shit ton of water. He hadnt liked the sound of her cough, and when they all sensed her breathing begin to be more laboured with her congestion, all the wolves had agreed to lay off her chores and training when her breathing began to crackle and her chedks beginning to redden.

That had been last night, and her fever and chills and cough had apparently only gotten worse since then.

And of course, through it all, the famed white wolf had never left her side.

He does some sort of Axii, she can barely recognise the hand symbol when her bleary eyes open and try their best to focus on his hand. Her breathing eases and her coughing stops, and suddenly there's a smooth, crooked, hollowed stick in her mouth.

She trusts Geralt, Ciri loves him, so she drinks whatever he deems safe and sighs with relief when it lessens the tightening in her chest and the pressure in her ears. Her eyes flutter closed again, and he places a hand on her forehead.

"Still burning up." He mumbles. "In and out all night."

Is he talking to her, or is someone else in the room? Is Vesemir in the chair next to her bed, the great protector of all his pups, that now includes her? Is it Eskel, with his knowledge of things medical and scientific. Or is it Lamb? Who could be gathering ideas for a concoction to make her feel better? Is it anyone, does it matter?

"Mmm." She tries to speak, but she can only make a vague squeaking sound that cracks in the middle. Good gods, she sounds rediculous with her throat and nose so congested as they are now, but all she manages to do is roll over and push her face into Geralt's chest, whining in misery. She feels so sick, sicker than ever before, and just wants to feel better.

She opens her mouth, ready to beg for water, but for all of his accusations of telepathy in the past, it is Geralt who reads her mind now, as he gently -oh so gently, the physicans were never so gentle with her as a child, fearing the lioness' wrath should anything happen to her cub- lifts her with him, pressing her against his chest as they both sit up. She sags against him, lips parting again.

Her body aches all over, in a way it hadnt ever done when she had ran the killer or trained until her muscles screamed. He seems to read her mind again, resting all her weight on his chest, and that combined with his arms that dwarf her little body, brings tears to her eyes as he brings another cup to her lips. This time it is water, and she gulps greedily until it's all gone, opening up to beg silently for more again.

Ciri downs three glasses before her stomach hurts, and he says nothing as she belches slightly as her stomach accustomed itself with having something inside.

Good gods, she's never felt so sick before. Not in the skelligan snowstorms, not anywhere. Her stomach aches, her head pounds, her throat hurts, breathing is a struggle, and she reaches back to touch Geralt, to make sure he's still there despite the fact she's laying against him.

He humms for her, voice blessedly soft. "You've slept in an our for a day and a half, managed to get some broth down you early this morning. Kept up a mightily impressive fever."

She blinks, too many words for her to comprehend, and swallows thickly again. He takes hos opportunity, pouring thick, sweet fluid into her mouth, and Ciri had no choice but to swallow it down.

The effect is almost immediate. Her chest feels lighter, her breathing easier, her eyes become heavy, and she sags into his arms.

"Sleep, little one. I'll be here when you wake up."

[hzbinnerdlover]

Late Evening sickness (Part 2)

(I gotta request to do a part 2- and I couldn't resist so here's that lol. Enjoy!)

Val laid in the bed as he ate the takeout that Vox had promised him, yearning and missing his TV demon husband. Vox had to suddenly rush back to work after breakfast, some kind of emergency or something which pisses him off, but he understood since he could just take the elevator back to their floor easily. So the rest of the day Kitty took care of him, bringing him drinks and water and tissues, anything he could need really.

Val whined as he laid back against his pillow and felt his throat, the soreness coming through as he sighed. "Goddammit. Course this fucking happens to me." Giving a stuffy sniffle he goes back to his phone for entertainment.

"This fucking blows! I just...want....gah...GA'SHOO!!! ECK'SHUU!!! HIP'SHUUUU!!! Ugh...."

"Bless you beautiful", Val perked up as he looked over, seeing Vox standing in the doorway as he smiled softly. "How are we feeling hm? Any better?" He asks as he takes off his suit jacket and hangs it up, clearing his throat a bit.

"Yeah, better. The medicine helps a lot. Makes me feel a little less congestion, sneeze a bit less. But I still feel like shit", Val sighs as he grabs a tissue and blows his nose, sighing in relief afterwards and tossing it away. "Yeah well, you'll probably be sick for at least a few more days Val. That's typically how colds work." Vox goes over to his drawer as he starts taking off his bowtie, back turned towards Val as he's putting it away in the drawer. Giving a loud whine Val shakes his head. "Yeah well I hate it! I just want it to stop! It just hurts and makes me cold, and it's worse if you can't be here with me and I feel so-"

"Hzztu!" A small noise interrupts Val, leaving the moth rather confused as he looks around. "The fuck- did you hear that?" Vox shrugged as he started making hus way towards his closet and rubs eyes, looking for something more comfortable as he removed his vest.

"Huh- well. What was I saying? Right. Being sick is a fucking BITCH! I'm telling ya! My fucking nose is gonna fall off from all this fucking sneezing, I can't stand it. It just makes it....all the....heh...", Val hitches slightly as tho about to sneeze before he hears another small sound. "H-Hzztu!" Val immediately stops and blinks, the sound distracting him from his sneeze as he groans. "Dammit Vox, is something glitching in here? If so it's pissing me off."

"Sorry baby, not sure what it is. I'll have to check it out in a bit." He sighs as he looks around for something, giving a slight shiver. "Shit. Val, have you seen my hoodie? The blue one with the Giant shark on the back?"

"Huh? Oh. Pretty sure it's in the very back there hon. You haven't worn that one in awhile-"

Vox rolled his eyes and reaches back as he starts pulling it out with a pair of pj pants, quickly changing as Val continues his rant, "Ugh they really did make this hell didn't they? It's unbelievable!!!" He gives an eye roll as he coughs a bit.

Vox rubs his head, getting tired of all the whining. "I know it sucks Val, but I'm sure you'll feel better soon. Can we not talk about this right now...? My head is pounding..."

"Well- this was gonna happen whether you were here now or earlier- so it's happening now cause I've barely had anyone to talk to except texting Velvette! And that isn't very-" he stops when he notices Vox's eyes close and tilts his head confused. "Vox- shit does it hurt that bad...?"

Vox simply nodded as he turned his back to him, raising a sleeve to his face as another sound came out. "Hzztu!!! Hzztu!!!"

Val raises an eyebrow at him and blinks. "So that is you? The fuck kind of noises are you making there, it's hard to tell"

Vox groaned as he looked at him with a slightly annoyed look. "Look can I just get 5 minutes to just...think things throught...I....heh...." shutting his eyes again Vox shook his head, no longer able to stifle.

"H-HIT'ZZZZZZUUUUUU!!!", giving a groan as he swiped hie hand across his face, his cheeks giving a slightly flushed look as he looks at Val. Val stared back, the two of them going into a silence for a moment before the moth finally spoke. "......YOU'RE FUCKING SICK TOO?!?!"

"Um well- just a little Val- it's fine. Not a big de-"

"Dont start with that shit!!! Did you go to fucking work like this?! While you were fucking sick?!"

"Uuuuuuuuh-" Vox blinked as he looked away, thinking back to earlier today.

(Earlier that day)

Vox groaned as he starts walking down to the office. "Jesus this fucking sucks....course I have to get sick same fucking day Val does. H-Hzztu!!!", he stifles into his sleeve to try to keep the sneezes as hidden as he can. He did NOT want anyone else to know he was sick around here. Quickly he got into his office and sighed in relief. "Thank god...I just stay in here, and no one has to know."

He walks over to hus chair and slumps down, sighing as he pulls up hus forms and emails and starts getting to work. Hearing footsteps enternhe groans and turns around.

"Yes? Who the fuck is-" he then saw it was hid assistant, Eli, giving a smile with some of paperwork and reports he no doubt had to share. "M-Mr.Vox, I have this week's reports to read to you sir." Of course he did. Of course he fucking did. Vox sighed and stood back up as he walked over. "Fine fine, let's just get this over with. Quickly please."

"O-Oh right- so. There was an incident this week with the marketing department, but it should be relatively easy for us to fix and-", Eli swished his eel tail back and forth as he continued reading the rest of the messages and reports that came for this week. Vox could barely pay attention tho as he felt a familiar itch hitting his face. Trying desperately not to focus on it he mentally told himself, "No no, come on not now. Please", but it was no use. The itch was pursuing and there was no way to stop it.

Seeing Eli was focused on the task at hand Vox quickly turned away to attempt to stifle again. "H'zzztu! H'zzztu!"

Eli blinked for a moment as his eyes looked up from the paper. "Did you say something sir?"

Vox sniffed as he shook his head. "No, nothing. Please continue" he insisted as he put hid hands behind his back. Unfortunately stifling all the time like this just made Vox's nose itch even more, so badly that as Eli went back to his reports, Vox's breath started hitching a bit.

It only got deeper and deeper, more noticeably audible as Eli once again looked up rather concerned. "Sir...?"

Vox shook his head as he tries to fight it back. "D-Dont worry about it, i-it's j-just heh...." Turning away again he knew he couldn't hold back. "H-HZZZZZTUUU!!!!!", sneezing loudly this time around he groaned in annoyance, feeling his nose run as he sniffled.

"Oh! Bless you Mr.Vox! Are you feeling well there...?" Vox nodded as he attempted to respond. "I'm fine, I'm just- TSK'SHIEEEW! HIT'ZUUUUU! Ugh....I'm fine." He finally spits out with a damp sniffle and another groan.

Eli looks at him rather worried, reaching for something in his pocket. "Um, if you don't mind me sir, I believe I have something that'll help." Giving a warm smile he pulls out a travel sized packet of tissues and holds them out to his TV demon boss.

Looking over slowly he glances at the tissues, sighing in defeat as he reaches over and takes one from the pack. "Ugh, thank you. Just don't tell- ACK'SHEEEW! Scuse me, don't tell anyone about this okay?"

He then let's out a gurgling blow into the tissue and let's out cough.

"Yes sir of course. Feel free to take the rest of the pack if you need it, and if you're falling ill I can bring some lemon tea for you. I imagine your throat must hurt."

Vox nods as he sighs and takes the pack of tissues finishing up wiping his nose with the wet used one. "Thank you...that would be wonderful. I'm gonna try to get some work done, don't let anyone else in for the day." Sighing he watches Eli leave and goes back to his work, slumping in his seat as he focuses at the task at hand.

(Back to the present)

Val gave a heavy sigh and facepalms. "You fucking idiot-"

"I had to Val! There's was shit that needed to be done!"

"Oh please, I'm sure your little assistant could've handled everything just fine. Now you listen to- Dammit hold on-" Val turns away and inhales sharply as another sneeze fit goes through. "Ech'shuuu! HI'CHUUU!!! IP'SHUUUU!!! Heh...HICK'CHUUU!!! ACHIEEEW!!!! Fucking christ"

He sniffles loudly as he groans and grabs a couple tissues, blowing his nose into them with a heavy breath.

Vox rolled his eyes as he mutters under his breath. "Bless you...can you not get on my- Hzztu!" Turning into his sleeve he let out a few stifled sneezes. "Hzzztu! Hzztu! Hzztu! Ugh..."

Raising an eyebrow Val rolled his own eyes and gave a slightly amused chuckle. "Bless YOU, Cariño, you really should stop trying to stifle them. It just makes the itch worse. Tho I'm sure you know that at this point." He grabs the tissue box and holds it out. "You need one?"

Vox nods as he groans. "God yes please, I ran out in the office." He walks over, hovering a bit as he shivered and coughs. Reaching out he grabs one immediately. "Thank you- Hzzztu! Thank you so much." Giving a sniffle he wipes his nose before coughing again.

"Voxieeeee, now what was I saying before hm? As amusing as thus is~ You're not doing yourself any favors." Vox shot him a glare as he finishes mopping up his face. "Oh fuck you, it's a hard habit to kill okay? I'm used to it. Heh....oh fuck..." Throwing the tissue out he breathes deeply for what he assumes is an incoming sneeze, only for it to get stuck as he stops and groans. "Come ooooon, seriously?" Plopping onto the bed he looks at Val desperately. "Vaaaaal it's stuck"

Val gives a slight chuckle to which Vox gives a slightly annoyed look. "You little- heh....heh....gaaaah dammit stop laughing at me!!! I'm serious I just wanna fucking-" he stops when Val leans over and gives a simple blow of air towards Vox's face.

"Heh.....heh....", suddenly the tickle came back in an instant, freeing his poor sinuses. "Heh....HICK'SHUUUUUU!!!!! ECK"CHHHUUU!!!! HIT'ZUUUUU!!!! H-HECHEEEEW!!!! HECHEW!!!! HECHEW!!!! HECHEW!!!! Hi....HET'ZZZZZZZUUUUU!!!!" Once the fit finally ended the bedroom lights flickered, and Vox was out of breath, his nose running like a faucet as he sniffled.

"Ugh....fuck that was gross...", Vox groaned as Val laughed a bit, grabbing some more tissues and passing them along. "Sorry, figured you'd want that pesky itch out."

Rolling his eyes Vox took the tissues gratefully, blowing heavily into them and snatching the box to repeat the process a couple times before finally finishing. "Ugh...where's that medicine i gave you this morning?" He asks through his raspy voice, laying down and cuddling close to his husband.

"Ah, I think it's over here", reaching over he hands it to Vox, the tv demon immediately taking two ofnthe pills and plopping back down. "I'm ready to fucking sleep...."

Val chuckles and nods as he lays down and holds the poor tv demon close. "Goodnight Voxie~ Dont worry, I'm sure you'll feel bet...better....fuck" He sniffles and rubs his nose.

Vox raises an eyebrow. "Val you...you good?" He starts to ask, feeling his own nose itch again as both demons are now left hitching for a moment till finally-

"HECK'SHUUUUU!!!", sniffling softly among themselves they blink at the realization of their shared sneeze before chuckling and closing their eyes, falling asleep with their love and sickness.

[call-me-little-sunshine84]

Sick Day

Steven Grant x female reader

Characters: Steven Grant x female reader

Rating: mature

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: Steven takes care of you when you're sick and you want to repay his kindness 😏

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, a lot of him calling reader 'love', that's about it

A/N: I have never written for the moon boys before. I don't mention the alters in this, I wanted this one to just be about Steven because he deserves so much love. It's fluff with some smut (probably a little self-indulgent); hopefully I did him justice.

Comments and reblogs welcome!

It started halfway through your shift at the office, that feeling that you were coming down with something. Head congested, sinus pressure, body aches, it hit you all at once. By the time you made it back home to the apartment you shared with Steven, you were barely staying upright. Apparently, you must have looked as badly as you felt, because as soon as he came out of his office to greet you, concern flashed across his face. “What’s wrong, love?” he asked, moving to embrace you. Backing up, you said “please stay away, I don’t want to get you sick too. I think it’s just a cold or something. Too much time in the rain, or maybe too much public transportation.” Grimacing, you threw your purse on the table by the door. “Let me take care of you tonight, darling,” he said, and even though you felt like garbage, it still warmed your heart.

He proceeded to run you a bath, even adding eucalyptus oil to soothe your congestion. He helped you remove your clothes, and you sank gratefully into the hot water, letting it seep into your aching muscles. He stayed with you, keeping you company and helping you bathe. He ran the washcloth gently over your body, and you sank into his touch. When he was done, you dried off while he grabbed your robe from the back of the door. “You go get comfortable in bed, and I’ll bring you some soup,” he offered. You accepted gratefully, throwing on your softest pajamas and turning the tv to a mindless reality show. He returned before long, holding a tray with a steaming bowl of soup and some crackers. He even brought a bottle of cold medicine. Your heart swelled. He had to be the most thoughtful, caring man you had ever met. 

You ate quickly, like you were starving. After drinking the awful tasting medicine, you could barely hold your eyes open. He came back in to get your bowl and gave you a tender kiss on the forehead. “Get some rest, love,” he whispered, turning off the light as he exited the room. 

When you finally woke up the next day, you almost had a panic attack when you looked at the clock and saw it was 2:30, and judging by the sunlight streaming through the window, it was afternoon, not morning. You jumped out of bed, almost tripping in the tangle of twisted sheets. Running to the kitchen, you searched for your phone to call your boss. “Hello darling, how are you feeling?” Steven asked when he saw you. “Why didn’t you wake me up? I’ve missed almost an entire day of work!” you said, anxiety taking over. “Love, it’s Saturday. You don’t work today,” he reminded you. Relief coursed through you. Of course. Once you calmed down, you realized you actually did feel a lot better. Then you remembered the previous night. 

“You're right, I’m sorry. Thank you so much for everything you did for me yesterday. I feel much better now. Maybe it was just a 24-hour thing,” you told him, and his cheeks turned an adorable shade of red from your praise. “Nonsense, it was nothing. I’m glad you’re well,” he replied. You moved over to him, hugging him tightly. “I am so grateful for you, Steven,” you told him, placing a feather soft kiss on his cheek. “I’m going to take a quick shower,” you said, heading for the bathroom. Using your best smelling soap - and actually being able to smell it - finished lifting your mood. You decided you wanted to do something to show Steven just how much you appreciated him, and there was one surefire way to accomplish that. 

Wrapping yourself in a towel, you exited the bathroom. He was in his office, nose buried in a book. He looked up when he realized you were in the doorway. Walking over to him, you slowly unwrapped the towel from around you, dropping it on the floor. He visibly shivered looking at you, desire vibrating off every inch of him, and you could feel the excitement pooling between your legs. “Are you sure you’re up for this?” he asked, looking deep into your eyes for confirmation. “Yes baby, I’m sure.”

Closing the distance between you, you straddled him in his chair, kissing him deeply. Tongues tangling, he ran his hands over your body, roaming over you like he had never touched you before. You moaned into his mouth, feeling his erection through his pants. You ground down onto him, searching for contact. Running your hands through his chocolate curls, you gasped as he touched your breasts, tracing small circles with his fingertips, hardening your nipples. Then he took first one, then the other into his warm mouth, sucking softly, the sensation pulling sounds from you that you didn’t know were possible. “Come with me,” you said breathlessly, dragging him from the chair and toward your bedroom. 

All of your plans went out the window once you reached the bed. He quickly removed his clothes, pushing you onto the mattress and crawling on top of you. One look in his wide lust-blown eyes and you knew you were done for. “Steven…,” you whined as he positioned himself between your thighs and slid inside you. This was unusual, the lack of foreplay, sex without preamble. “Sorry, love, need you now, couldn’t wait,” he grunted as his thrusts became steady, pushing deeper each time. 

Relishing the feeling of being full of him, you wanted to give him anything he wanted, give him the world if that’s what he asked for. The look of utter concentration on his gorgeous face as he worked so hard to please you made you even wetter. “That’s it baby, you feel so good fucking me like that,” you told him, and the praise from you seemed to break loose something in him. He grasped your hips, pulling your center as tightly against him as he could. Sweat dripped down his chest and you reached out to lick it off. He trembled at the feeling of your tongue on his skin, and you bit gently at his nipples, pulling groans from him that you wished you could record for later. Clenching down on his dick, desperately seeking release, you hissed as he placed a thumb on your swollen clit. Swirling gently, applying just the right amount of pressure, he worked your body until pulses of white-hot lightning shot through you over and over. Yelling his name repeatedly, an orgasmic love song, Steven also reached his climax, shooting his warm seed into you and he collapsed on the bed beside you, wrung out. 

Rolling over next to him, you placed your head on his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat slowing as you drew random patterns on his torso with your fingernails. You looked up at him adoringly. “Thank you, Steven,” you said sincerely. “What on earth for, love?” he asked, genuinely puzzled, running a hand through his curls. “For being you. For always taking care of me and just for...well, everything. I love you,” you replied, hoping he fully understood just how much he meant to you. Holding him tightly, you knew right beside him was the only place you ever wanted to be.