#high fever books

[nymph-of-water]

Keep the light shining in your heart; death is a hungry darkness. It wants to swallow us. You’re different and will always be misunderstood—never let that touch you. You’re a terribly real thing in a terribly false world. The world is fucked up, not you.

-Ryodan, High Voltage

[turnthepagevn]

"The only god here is me, darling."

but what is a god Robin?

"Don't worry about it. :)"

[moryera]

Entirely too amused by this tempo marking.

Do I look moderate to you??

[anti-gravity-insanity]

I PROMISE no spoilers for any of the new Percy Jackson show on this blog (I have a massive queue that I’ve built up and it will be released only with prior warning and proper blockable tags), but I did just reread the whole first 5 books and will be waxing nostalgic by means of spam revblogging PJO book stuff probably for the next couple days (I guess??? I guess this is where the night takes me) . Anyways, just wanted to make that distinction of spoilerless spam before I start blasting away in fucking nostalgia-zone over here.

[seth-whumps]

I MADE A WHUMP EVENT: get ready for July folks

welcome to the Whumperless Whump Event of July! for your sickfic, situational, and completely apersonal whump needs--comfort included, of course. follow @whumperless-whump-event for more information and details!

Image transcripts, tagging rules, and guidelines under the cut!

RULES

Any and all art types allowed (GIFs, drawings, music, writing, etc.)

No AI generated content allowed

OCs and Fandom works alike are welcome :)

Trigger and content tags required, even if the prompt explicitly requires the content (eg. Vomiting still needs the emetophobia tag)

NSFT and NSFW are allowed, if tagged appropriately. This blog will not reblog them, as minors do follow it. However, you're still free to write as you please :)

If enough interest is shown, I will make an Ao3 collection (edit: ao3 collection is made and can be found here)

Side note: please let me know if there's anything I can do to make this post or event more accessible. Should I put the image transcripts on the ID too? Is the formatting causing issues? What can I do?

This is not a contest, just an event. The only awards will be announcements for people who completed the whole darn thing. My entries will not receive any announcements or awards, because I'm hosting

TAGGING

Tag with, per example: #whumperless whump event day 1; #whumperless whump event; and (optional) #whumperless whump event day 1: alcohol as a sanitizer

Tag @whumperless-whump-event please! If not, I may not see it or be able to reblog it!

If desired, tag the medium you used

Trigger tag and content warn (including nsfw/nsft)

If posting early, tag with #wwe early entry. If posting late, tag with #wwe late entry. If posting just for fun, no need to tag these!

IMPORTANT:

There are NO OTHER RULES. Do one prompt! Do seven! Do 'em all! Repeat the same prompt six days in a row! Switch them around and do them all out of order! Post them eight months after the event is over! Finish the prompt list early! Write one long-ass story that deals with every prompt or do a one-sentence drabble for each one! Recommend your favorite scenes regarding the prompt! Write, draw, sing, play music, make playlists, do fic recs or show recs or episode recs or book recs, fucking crochet or something! FOLLOW THE VIBE. DO WHAT'S FUN.

Prompts (text):

Emergency First Aid: Self-done stitches / Alcohol as sanitizer / “It's just a scratch, I've had worse.”

Does your insurance cover this?: Car accident / Bystander caretaker / “Eyes open, ambulance is almost here.”

Like a record, baby: Vertigo / Struggling to stand / “Is the room spinning, or is it just me?”

It's every day bro: Chronic pain / Massage / “I'm used to it.”

Stealing my breath (give it back): Wheezing / Light-headed / “I'll count, you just breathe.”

Summer is a curse: Heat Stroke / Panting / “Why don't we… find some shade, quick?”

Accidental Cryotherapy: Falling through a frozen lake / Hypothermia / “Hey, c'mon, you gotta stay awake.”

Put your head on my shoulder: Migraine / Light & Sound Sensitivity / “I can close the curtains…”

White and red handkerchief: Coughing up blood / Can't speak / “You just can't shake that cough, can you?”

Your work is never finished: Forced to work while ill / Workplace emergency / “...sit down, I'm calling HR.”

A minor annoyance: Stuffy nose / Hate to be sick / “I'm fine, I can work.”

It's going down (I'm yelling timber): Building collapse / Trapped under rubble / “I can't move my legs.”

It's just a pebble: Avalanche / Stuck in the mountains / “Well, this wasn't how I thought the hiking trip would go.”

Lay down your sword: Fighting back a cold / Cuddling / “Just let yourself be sick so you can get better.”

I'm going down (you're yelling timber): Passing out / Exhaustion / “I've got you, let's sit down, I've got you.”

Say goodbye to filters: Half-conscious / Delirious / “You would never say that in your right mind…”

In hot water: Dangerously high fever / Cool baths / “We have to get that number down somehow.”

I don't see it: Hallucinations / Fever dreams / “It's just a nightmare. You're safe.”

The whump morning after: Tending to injuries / Domestic hurt comfort / “Let's check the bandages, okay?”

It's not fun if you're panicking: Stuck in an elevator / Claustrophobia / “Get me out.”

Where's the exit: Lost / Stuck in the wilderness / “Surely someone will notice we're gone.”

Better out than in: Nervous Stomach / Vomiting / “I got your hair, it's fine.”

Well, that doesn't taste right: Accidentally poisoned / Allergic reaction / “My tongue feels like bees, is that normal?”

Be one with the fish: Drowning / Rescue Breaths / “Why did you think that was a good idea?!”

We didn't start the fire: Severe burns / Running into flames / “I know it hurts. Breathe.”

That's no barn spider: Venomous bite / Arachnophobia / “You'll be okay, we can help.”

What's your name again?: Concussion / Temporary Amnesia / “I don't remember what happened to me.”

Nothing behind the eyes: Fully unconscious / Force feeding / “It's just me, go back to sleep.”

Wrong place, wrong time: Robbery / One of many hostages / “Stay behind me, I can take a hit.”

I don't mean to get emotional: Fear / Breaking point / “I can't stop crying, I'm sorry--”

Only way out is through: Tunnel collapse / Accidental Journey / “We can't just sit here and wait.”

ALTERNATES:

Seizure

Choking

Withdrawal

Mugged

Wild animal attack

Hangover

Strain/sprain

Broken bone

Bloody nose

Panic attack

[moonstruckme]

hi, loveyy. if you'd like, would you write for reader x dr!remus where she's really sick and tries to hide it from him so he doesn't worry?

Thanks for requesting!

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

Remus keeps your apartment torturously cold. Normally you don’t mind it, but today you’re achy enough without the chill. The first thing you do when you get home is crank up the thermostat, then take a steamy shower and start warming the kettle. Proactive measures. 

You’re taking better care of yourself than you possibly ever have, all to the end of eluding your boyfriend. 

When Remus comes home, you’re sitting on the couch in your cozies waiting for your thoroughly honeyed tea to cool. You’re quick to remove the warm cloth from your sinuses before he can see. You make sure your throat is clear before you speak. 

“Hi, how was work?” 

“Swamped.” Remus bends over the back of the couch to kiss your hair. “Everyone has the flu, strep, or both. Every year, no one gets their flu jabs, and every year they’re shocked when they catch it.” He comes to sit by you, smiling tiredly. “I’d want to throttle all of them if they weren’t already so miserable.” 

It’s an effort to keep your shame from showing as you return his smile. Remus starts to lean toward you, but you back away, keeping your mouth a safe distance from his. 

At his questioning look, you say feebly, “You smell like your office.” 

He lets out a breath of laughter but moves away. “Alright. I’ll change.” 

You send him a guilty look as he goes that he doesn’t know the half of, but Remus only smiles indulgently back at you. 

From down the hall, you hear, “Dovey, did you change the thermostat?” 

Shit, you forgot to switch it back. 

“Yeah, sorry. I was chilly when I got home.” 

“It’s fine. Do you…want me to leave it like this? It’s set fairly high.” 

“Um…” Honestly, yes. “That’s okay. I’m good now, you can set it back.” 

“Alright.” 

You hear the ticks of the thermostat being turned down, and you grab a throw from across the back of the couch, wrapping it tightly around your shoulders. 

“Do you want some tea?” you ask him after a minute. “I’ve just made myself a cup.” 

“That’s okay, sweetheart, stay where you are.” Remus emerges from the bedroom in his own house clothes, looking painfully snuggly. He heads for the kitchen. “You left the honey out. Do you still need it?” 

You wince. “No, I’m alright.” 

When Remus rejoins you in the sitting room, you pretend to be busy with your book. He sits back in his spot, and you cozy up to him before he can try to kiss you again, your head on his shoulder. 

“Are you still cold?” he asks, adjusting the throw over you. 

You hum a lie. 

Remus seems satisfied with that. He tucks you under an arm and picks up his own book. 

You’re a few pages in when your nose starts to tickle. You try to breathe through it, hoping it will go away, but it’s no use. You’re hardly able to pinch your nose shut before a sneeze pitches out of you, violent and head-throbbing. 

“Bless you.” Remus rubs your back. “You okay?” 

You sniffle. “Yeah. Sorry.” 

“No reason to be sorry, lovely girl,” he chides gently. You feel his lips touch down on your head. 

You soak up the comfort like warmth on a wintry day. Miraculously, Remus doesn’t question you any further, and eventually you lay your head back on his shoulder. You flip pages without truly reading them, your mind fuzzy and your body exhausted, until your eyes grow heavy and you forget to flip them at all. At some point, Remus’ head tilts so it’s resting atop yours. When he starts massaging the back of your neck, it feels so nice you don’t even really register it. 

“Dove,” he murmurs. 

You hum in pleased, half-asleep acknowledgement. 

“You need to stay home from work tomorrow, sweet girl.” 

You blink your eyes open slowly. Pick your head up off Remus’ shoulder, and look at him in confusion. “What?”

He looks back at you patiently. “Your fever’s gotten worse, and you’re contagious. It’s not good for you or anyone if you go in.” 

“But…” Your brow furrows. You feel like you’ve missed a chapter. “How did you know?” 

Remus gives you an amused look. “I see sick people all day long. You thought I wouldn’t notice?” You frown. He chuckles and cups your face in his hand, thumbing over your cheek consolingly. “You were clearing your throat all evening yesterday. But it didn’t seem bad yet, and you didn’t seem to want to tell me, so…” He shrugs. “But now it’s time to let me take care of you, okay?” 

You rub your lips together. You think you’re waiting for him to be angry with you, but your boyfriend seems only sympathetic. And a bit smug. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble. “I didn’t wanna be another thing for you to deal with.” 

“Oh, hush.” Remus tsks, shifting so he can wrap his arms around you. “I like dealing with you, have I not been clear about that?” 

“You don’t want to throttle me because I’m another idiot who didn’t get the flu jab?” 

You feel the reverberations of his quiet chuckle in his chest. “First of all, I said I would want to throttle them. I’m a doctor, I can’t just be contemplating throttling my patients. And no, sweetheart.” He slips his hand from your shoulder down the length of your back, rubbing through your blanket. “I don’t think that about you. I wish you’d gotten it, but there’s nothing to be done now. You’re sick, and I only want to look after you.” 

The onslaught of tenderness melts you. You let your face slip down to his shoulder, nose pushing into his neck. “My head hurts,” you mumble. 

“Awe, dovey.” Remus brings his other hand to your nape, massaging the achy muscles there again. “Have you had paracetamol since you’ve been home?” 

You shake your head mutely. 

“I’ll get you some in a minute, then. And we can have soup for dinner, yeah?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” You feel frighteningly teary. “Will you stay here for a while with me first, though? Please?”

Remus’ lips press softly to your forehead. “Sure, of course.” 

[hurlingdown]

we need needy pathetic OMEGA ZORO

imagine omega! zoro being horny and cock-hungry 24/7 even if he's not in his heat.

it's fine even if you're not always up to fuck. he'll be quiet and satisfied if you let him fall asleep with your dick stuffed in his mouth like a good boy, nose pressed into your pubes until he gets high and dizzy from the overwhelming pheromones.

that, or let him sit on your lap and cockwarm you while you read a book or do something else, giving him the opportunity to rub his scent glands all over your neck until you're all oily and smell like him. and even if your pants end up getting soaked with the amount of slick he keeps producing just from sitting on you, it's worth it.

oftentimes you'll wake up to him humping you in his sleep, whining and purring needily into your ear with his thighs clamped around one of yours, desperately rutting his naked wet cunt onto you as though trying to imprint his scent into your skin.

on other days though, you might jolt awake to him riding you so hard it almost feels like a fever dream when you blink open your eyes — all eighty five kilos of muscle jumping on your cock, each thrust accompanied by lewd squelching sounds as you realise that this isn't the first orgasm he's chasing.

there's a heavy blush on his cheeks and he glares you down while choking on a whine, calling you a "useless alpha" for not satisfying his omega needs enough last night.

[multific]

In Sickness and In Health

Paul Atreides x Reader

Summary: Paul fears leaving you while you are sick.

Paul hated to leave you alone, especially since you haven't been feeling so well lately.

Paul knew he needed to go with his father, but he didn't want to.

"I will take care of her." his mother tried her best to reassure him, but Paul was worried.

The love of his life, his beautiful wife has been forced to bedrest for the last few days.

The doctors examined you and determined that you had a simple illness.

A simple one, yet you suffered greatly because of it.

You had a high fever, you could barely eat and sleep was a difficult task.

You were separated from Paul the second day of your illness, now, he was only allowed to visit you.

He was kind enough to bring you books or read you some of his own.

"You must go, Paul, your father expects you to."

"I do not care. I don't wish to leave you alone."

"I understand, but I will be fine, I do feel better already, so please, don't worry too much."

"My mother said she will visit you often," he said as his grip tightened around the book he was reading to you. "I still don't want to leave you." he promised to be by your side, in sickness and in health.

"I will be fine." you said with a smile. Your smile made him believe that it might be all fine after all.

Yet, his worry never left him.

The next day, he left with his father.

Lady Jessica kept her promise and visited as often as she could.

You even started conversations with her. And she did enjoy talking about Paul when he was young.

Then, she even mentioned her marriage, and how she wished you and Paul wouldn't have to face the same or similar difficulties.

The week soon passed, and you were much better as you awaited Paul's return.

And soon enough, you were told that he was landing.

You rushed over, by the time you got there Paul was already off the ship, making his way to you.

"Paul!" you smiled as you slowly jogged over to him, he fully started running.

You opened your arms and wrapped them around him as he lifted you off the ground. You giggled into his ear.

"I'm so happy to see you." he said. "You look so much better."

"Your mother gave me a special tea, it truly helped," you said as he finally put you down on the ground and kissed you.

"I missed you so much." he said and you laughed a little.

"I missed you, Paul."

Paul never felt so relieved in his entire life. He was worried about coming back, so when he saw you, full of life and smiles, running over to him, the weight from his shoulders just disappeared.

All his worries left his body in a matter of seconds.

He held onto you tight and strong, afraid to let you leave his sight as he watched your face, full of life, your eyes, filled with love as you looked at him.

Not even in his best dreams did he ever imagine coming back home and finding you like this.

He was forever grateful for his mother for healing you.

He made a vow to never leave your side ever again, and it is a promise Paul intends to keep for the rest of his life.

Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @brascaris @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[loveinhawkins]

When Steve gets to his last year at Hawkins High, it feels like some kind of veil has been lifted right in front him. Or maybe it’s more that the veil’s actually been slowly lifting for years, and he’s noticing it all the more because it’s no longer there.

Either way, when he receives his yearbook, it doesn’t seem like the huge deal that his younger self would’ve made it out to be; he flicks through the pictures half-heartedly, doesn’t even care when the candid ones taken at sporting events catch him in unflattering poses, lip jutting out in concentration.

If he tried to voice his disinterest, Henderson would probably spout off some precocious shit about societal expectations, and Steve would pretend to nod sagely before stealing whatever dorky hat he happened to be wearing—it’s not like he could let the little shit suspect that he occasionally had a point, Steve would never hear the end of it.

The yearbook signings are predictably inescapable: people passing their books back and forth in class or in the cafeteria—and that one’s a risky move, with the threat of drinks spilling on the pages, whether accidental or malicious.

Steve thinks the fever’s dwindled out until he spends a free period in the school library. The seniors typically all bunch together in one of the far corners, the spots with the comfiest seats—loners included, like the perks of age for once outweigh the usual ridicule.

But that silent truce is not exactly being upheld, Steve notes—Eddie Munson is sitting alone at a nearby table.

It becomes painfully obvious when the signing starts up again. There’s a cluster of girls on the yearbook committee who initiate it, and soon every senior in reach is either passing over their own book or signing one.

Almost every senior.

It’s not like Eddie’s the only person ever to be held back. He’s not even the only one to be held back for next year, either: John Nelson off the swim team is in the same position, and he’s still been asked to sign.

But Steve knows that’s not what the source of exclusion is, not really.

He’s gotten good at spotting silent cruelty—good at avoiding it too, before his popularity gave him a temporary shield.

It’s all just bullshit, he thinks. It’s been a recurring thought lately.

He brings out his own yearbook because he knows it’s expected. When it’s finally passed back round to him, he ends up right near the seat opposite Eddie’s, just by chance.

But actually sitting there is his own choice.

He can tell that Eddie has spotted him even though he’s not looked up from whatever homework he’s doing; there’s a silent tension in the way he’s holding his pen.

Steve mulls it over before he asks the question. It could blow up in his face, but what did that matter, really? In the grand scheme of things, it would hardly count as a major embarrassment; it’s not like it’d be any more mortifying than telling his dad that he didn’t get into any colleges whatsoever.

So he pushes his yearbook across the table, because what the hell.

“Wanna sign?”

Eddie glances up. There’s a guarded look in his eyes, and Steve can almost hear him mentally replaying the question.

“Pardon?” Eddie says with pointed emphasis, like he’s daring Steve, let it drop and we’ll say no more about it, Harrington.

Steve doesn’t take it back. He shrugs and flicks open the yearbook, finds a blank spot and taps it once with his finger, a silent offer.

Eddie stares like Steve’s a riddle, like he’s wondering just who the show’s for—but the other students have turned away, have gone back to their seats, yearbooks temporarily forgotten.

Eddie’s hold on his pen relaxes, ever so slightly.

“You sure, Harrington?” he says. There’s still a wary edge to his voice, but there’s an undercurrent of something else, too, like he’s secretly amused despite himself. “Haven’t you heard what folks say? I could curse you.”

Steve scoffs. “That all you’ve got? I’ve dealt with way worse, man,” he says mildly.

A corner of Eddie’s mouth twitches into a surprised smile. Then it’s gone almost like it had never been in the first place, his gaze turning thoughtful rather than defensive.

And obviously this isn’t Eddie’s first rodeo at the whole senior year thing. Steve wonders if there’s a veil that’s been lifted for him too, wonders if he can see straight through it right now.

The bell rings.

Eddie stands up, gathering his stuff.

Steve thinks that’s the end of it: something that’s neither a success or a failure.

But then, lightning fast, Eddie darts across the table and scribbles something on the open page. Slams the yearbook shut and pushes it back over, and it feels like a challenge, like some of his caginess is back—like he’s just daring Steve to reveal that it had been a joke all along—

“Bet you’re counting down the days till you can hold your own copy, huh?” Steve says dryly, as he stuffs the book into his bag.

It’s a risk; he knows Eddie could easily take it as pure ridicule, could misinterpret it as Steve throwing the failed school years back in his face.

Eddie just shakes his head, but he could be laughing—the moment’s gone too quickly for Steve to know for sure.

“Nah, Harrington,” Eddie says easily, thrown over his shoulder as he leaves, “those things aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on.”

Steve doesn’t check the yearbook until he’s home. He eventually finds Eddie’s signature, simple black ink right in the upper corner of one page.

Good luck, Steve. —Eddie

Some of the letters are bunched a little too close together, drifting upwards on the blank page, as if they usually need lined paper to guide them—left-handed, Steve thinks vaguely.

Within a sea of scrawled nicknames and loudly enthusiastic messages, Steve finds that he kind of likes how mundane Eddie’s truly is. Likes the sign off with minimal fuss. Just “Eddie.” Likes how he was just “Steve”, too.

And yeah, if anyone needed to be told good luck, Steve thinks, with the kind of amusement that only comes from distance—pictures his past self, freaking out about monsters come to life.

He slots the yearbook into his bookcase. By summer he might forget about it altogether, left to gather dust as he works for 3 bucks an hour, but for now he marks its significance: something real, hidden alongside the bullshit.

[reilemon]

♥︎Amore Immortale♥︎ Ch. 1

♡︎ synopsis: A simple foraging trip takes an unexpected turn when you wake up in a mansion hidden deep in the forest. Now four captivating men are nursing you back to health, but their intentions—and identities—are a mystery.

♡︎ pairing: vampire!Xavier, vampire!Zayne, vampire!Rafayel, vampire!Sylus x fem!reader (separately and together)

♡︎ cw: depictions of head injury and fever

♡︎ tags: vampire au, slow burn (-ish), eventual romance, eventual smut, eventual polyamory

♡︎ word count: 4.3k

♡︎ a/n: the first chapter of the sixth and final story for kinktober 2024. I wanted to finish off kinktober with a gang bang, but I got carried away and now this is going to be a multi chapter story. I hope you'll like this one.

♡︎ Thanks to my dearest friend and beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for helping.

divider by @cafekitsune

"Poor little bunny." The blue eyed man coos as he find the source of the sudden loud noise - you. The clumsy human probably slipped and fell when the sky opened and heavy rainfall started. He carefully scoops you in his arms, with your head resting on his shoulder.

A small whine barely hits his ears and he catches the moment you briefly gain consciousness. He softly chuckles when he hears your silly question before passing out again. He ignores how a little of your blood is mixing with the rain on the fabric of his coat and starts walking away.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Your eyes flutter open, heavy and bleary. You adjust slowly to the dimness around you, the fireplace in front of your bed the only source of light. The ceiling looms high - a ceiling you don’t recognize. The walls are covered in wallpaper, worn and peeling in places. You don’t recognize that wallpaper either. The royal purple catches the dim firelight, a color you could never possibly afford.

You shift against the bed beneath you, the silk sheets cool and smooth against your skin. Over you is a heavy wool blanket, its weight like a comforting presence. A low groan escapes your lips as you rise and rest on your elbow. The room is beautiful, with expensive furniture, but there is this dormant energy to it.

You glance at the thick velvet curtains covering the window. The sliver peeking in the corner shows you a glimpse of the outside world. It’s nighttime, the downpour relentless, drops thrumming against the glass.  

‘The rain!’

You sit up abruptly, a sharp pang of pain zapping through your skull, making you wince and press your fingers to your temple. Your fingers try to rub the pain away as you lean on your other arm to rest. Right, the rain. After closing up the bookstore, you've gone to the forest to search for some mushrooms and sweet chestnuts. A hearty dinner and sweet dessert would be a great start of your two week long vacation. The last visitor commented how their elbow hurt which meant a thunderstorm is coming. You politely smiled and packed up their books. You should've listened to their elbow.

Now, staring around this unfamiliar room, unease twists in your stomach.

‘Where the hell am I?’

Right on cue, the door creaks open, and a tall, raven haired man steps into the room. He pauses in the doorway as his eyes meet yours.

“Hello,” he says, his voice smooth and deep. “How are you feeling?”

You swallow, his presence suddenly making you aware of the mess you must look. Embarrassment prickles your skin, and you rub your temple, trying to compose yourself, only to see his brows knit with concern.

“Um, I’ve been better,” you manage, forcing a chuckle. The grogginess in your voice doesn’t help the embarrassment. You smooth a hand over the blanket, feeling a little exposed. “Why am I here?”

“My friend found you,” he explains, “Out in the forest, just before the storm. You most likely slipped on the mud and hit your head.”

He nods towards your forehead, then reaches for a small, gold hand-mirror resting on the bedside table. The antique metal glints softly as he holds it, and you take it with a hesitant hand. As you lift it to inspect your reflection, you catch a small bruise just above your brow, the skin tender and slightly swollen. Considering the circumstances, you think, it could’ve been much worse.

The man, whose name you still haven’t learned, clears his throat. “I was the one who changed you into dry clothes,” he shifts in his seat, averting his gaze briefly before meeting your eyes again. “For that, I apologize. I wouldn’t have done it if there were any other choice.”

You shake your head with a small, reassuring smile. “It’s fine, really. If you hadn’t, I’d probably be shivering with pneumonia right now.”

His expression softens with relief. “I’m glad you understand. I would still like to listen to your lungs, Would you be comfortable with me examining you?” then he adds, “I’ve been in the medical field for quite some time, I assure you.”

Something about his demeanor, calm and controlled, makes him look trustworthy. And considering how thoroughly he must have tended to you—removing every speck of mud, leaving you dry and warm in a comfortable bed—it’s clear he has your wellbeing in mind. You nod. “Of course.”

He gives a curt nod and shifts closer to the bed. “You don’t need to do much, just sit as comfortably as you can,” he murmurs, the calm, low timbre of his voice steadies you. The shirt you wear—a loose button-up clearly meant for a man—hangs loosely over your shoulders, open at the collar. Suddenly, you feel the pulse of your own heartbeat, wondering if he might hear it already. His hand moves lightly over the fabric, as he leans closer, and then he places his ear gently against your chest, just above your heart.

The moment feels both entirely professional and so intimate. You tell yourself that this is completely normal, this is the usual routine. But he is not your doctor, and you can’t shun the butterflies you feel from having a handsome stranger resting his head on your chest. His hair, thick and dark, grazes your collarbone as he listens, his breath warm against your skin. Your heartbeat, which you’re certain must be thudding wildly beneath his ear, betrays you, a deep flush creeping up your cheeks as you try to steady yourself.

“Breathe in deeply for me,” his voice a soft murmur, his cheek brushing against you.

You comply, feeling his presence with every rise and fall of your chest. When he shifts, his head moves closer to your collarbone, the tickling brush of his hair sending a wave of goosebumps along your chest. You’re conscious of every small movement, every slight intake of his breath.

He shifts back a little, his hand grazing your shoulder as he adjusts to press his ear against your back. “One more time,” his tone is still composed, though you’re unsure if you catch a hint of restraint.

You breathe in, slowly, deeply, feeling the warmth of his palm on your shoulder. He holds still for a moment longer, listening intently. Then, he slowly pulls back, settling into his seat with a neutral expression.

“You do have a small fever,” he calmly states. “Although, there are no signs of anything serious.” He offers a faint, almost apologetic smile. “You should lie back down and rest.”

Your cheeks are warm, and not just from the fever. You nod and do as you’re told, sinking under the comforting weight of the blanket. The man briefly explains that you were unconscious for around two hours, and that your clothes are being washed.

You nod again, processing the details. “Thank you�� that’s all very considerate of you.”

He offers you a faint smile. “It’s the least we could do.”

He rises from his seat and steps toward the door, his hand resting on the brass knob. “I need to check on my friend in the kitchen. There may be a fire to manage. And I’ll bring you some herbal tea.”

You chuckle. “Well, thank you, Dr…?”

A flicker of amusement lights his eyes as he opens the door, pausing for a moment. “Just call me Zayne.”

You tell him your name in return, and with that, he’s gone with the soft click of the door.

After Zayne leaves, the room slips into an almost eerie quiet. You prop yourself up against the plush pillows, trying to get comfortable despite the persistent ache in your muscles and the dull throb in your head. The room feels larger now that you’re alone. Every detail catches your attention—the thick velvet drapes, the intricate patterns on the worn wallpaper, the faint smell of stale air. You’d get up to investigate the room or try to figure out more about where exactly you are, but your body protests with every small movement. So you have to settle for gazing around the space instead, picking out details you hadn’t noticed before. The furniture is old but well-kept, the kind that belongs in a property far grander than any home you’ve ever been in. This place—it’s not like the humble cottages back in your village. No, this is different. Larger. More isolated. Somewhere far from the familiar streets you walk every day.

A shiver crawls down your spine at the thought of how far away you could be from your home. You’ve never ventured beyond the edge of the forest. You’ve heard stories about the other side. It was always whispered between older folk who’d lived through enough strange events to keep their superstitions alive. Vampires, werewolves, creatures of the night. They’d mention them, always in passing, as though acknowledging them would draw something out of the shadows.

At first, you’d dismissed it. What else could it be but old folklore? Some scary tales to spice up their lives, stories passed down from generation to generation. Something for them to talk about when the nights grew long and dark, to keep the children from misbehaving. Those creatures don’t exist. You were certain of that.

Or, at least, you had been.

You replay the events in your mind, trying to make sense of it all. Zayne said that his friend found you unconscious in the woods. They’d brought you here, tended to your injuries, and kept you warm. His behavior had been nothing but kind, gentlemanly even.

But then, why does your skin prickle as you think of him?

What if he is one of them? The pale complexion, the unnerving quiet, the way he’d moved with such elegant grace. And those eyes... there was something about the way he looked at you. Your pulse quickens. You try to reason with yourself—if this man, Zayne, were a vampire, wouldn’t he have done something by now? You were unconscious and vulnerable. He could have easily taken advantage of that moment, but he hadn’t. He’d taken care of you.

But what if... what if this is all part of some darker plan? You swallow hard, trying to silence the growing paranoia. What if they want to keep you here? What if, right now, they’re simply playing a long game, to coax you to be their little blood doll—

‘Stop.’ You force yourself to take a deep breath, trying to calm your spiraling thoughts. There’s no proof, no reason to believe that Zayne—or anyone else—is anything other than a human.

You glance toward the window. Your body feels like lead at the moment, but tomorrow you will probably be well enough to leave. The storm can’t go on forever.

A sharp knock on the door pulls you from your thoughts.

"Come in," you manage, your voice wavering just a little.

Zayne steps in, balancing a tray of a delicate ceramic tea set. The gentle clink of porcelain against porcelain brings comfort to your senses. Behind him, another figure slips into the room—a man with handsome, soft features. His tousled, blonde-gray hair looks like it would be soft to the touch. And his eyes, though shadowed by the dim lighting, have a dreamy quality, like someone lost in thought.

A faint smell of something burnt drifts into the room, cutting through the soothing scent of the herbal tea. You can’t help but frown a bit at the scent, but neither man acknowledges it. Zayne places the tray on the small bedside table, the teapot steaming. The air feels warmer now, not just from the tea.

The second man steps forward, offering you a polite nod, “Hello.” he says, his voice silky and mellow. “I’m Xavier, the one who found you.”

His soft smile makes your heart stir. It takes you a beat to find your voice to introduce yourself.

“Thank you… for, well, rescuing me,” you say with a shy smile.

Xavier gives a gentle shake of his head, his smile widening. “Why were you so deep into the forest with a storm on the way?” he asks, his tone feels almost like teasing.

You chuckle nervously as you feel the faintest flush of embarrassment creep up your cheeks. “I – Well, I wanted to gather some things for dinner,” you admit. “It’s my first real break from work, and I may have gotten a little too excited.”

His gaze lingers on you for a moment, as if he’s trying to fully take you in.

“You’re lucky he was done fishing at the time.” Zayne adds as he hands you a cup of tea. His fingers brush lightly against yours as you accept it, deepening the flush on your cheeks. You are lucky to be here. Even though you’re sitting in a room with two men who are strangers, they still have cared for you with such tenderness. You could feel their warmth in every gesture, in every word. It’s hard to hold onto fear when faced with such care. Even now, you can feel yourself relaxing, the tension in your shoulders unwinding.

You take a sip of tea slowly, trying to mask the strange tide of emotions flooding through you. You had been so afraid, so convinced of something dark lurking beneath the surface. But now, in this quiet moment, with the warm tea in your hands and their watchful eyes on you, you feel strangely safe.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

The clock on the mantel ticks softly, the brass hands showing it’s almost 1 a.m. The fire burns low, casting a warm, flickering glow over the room. Your eyelids feel heavy now, the weight of exhaustion settling deep in your bones. You turn onto your side, pulling the duvet tighter, forming a cocoon around you. The warmth, the softness—everything lulls you closer to sleep. But your mind drifts, recalling the conversation with Xavier after he’d brought you dinner.

He’d placed the bed tray gently over your lap, making sure everything was within reach. Before he turned to leave, the sound of your voice stopped him.

“Did you manage to catch anything?” you asked, your voice quiet but curious.

Xavier had looked confused for a moment, then his face lit up with a soft smile. “I did. Fried a few, but Zayne didn’t let me serve it to you.” He chuckled. “Said he didn’t want you choking on a bone.”

You laughed too, the sound easing the leftover tension you’ve been holding. That explained the faint burnt smell that had lingered earlier, and why Zayne had to rush to the kitchen.

“And don’t worry,” he added. “I brought back your basket too. Everything’s intact.”

You were about to thank him, but then an image flashed in your mind—a fleeting memory of him, his hair wet and clinging to his face. The moment felt so vivid, so real, that it stopped you mid-thought. You stared at him, squinting slightly.

“What’s wrong?” His voice softened with concern, his brows furrowing.

You shook your head quickly, flustered for being caught staring. “Nothing… it’s just—did I say something to you?  When you found me?”

Xavier hesitated, his lips twitching as though trying to suppress a grin. He glanced to the side, his hand coming up to cover his mouth, but his eyes gave him away. “Oh no…” you said, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks. “Was it something embarrassing?”

“No,” he replied, though the gleam in his eye said otherwise. “It was cute.” He paused, then looked back to you, “You opened your eyes for a moment, and asked me, ‘Are you my prince?’ Then you passed out again.”

Your heart practically leapt into your throat, your face instantly flushing. “Oh, that’s definitely embarrassing,” you groaned.

Xavier laughed then, his voice soothing. “Don’t worry, I’ve been called worse.”

And just as you wished for the shadows to come alive and swallow you, Zayne entered, saving you from further humiliation. He brought you a bowl filled with ice and a cloth. You thanked both of them, adding that you planned to leave in the morning.

Their faces changed for a heartbeat when you said that, though you didn’t miss it. It wasn’t worry exactly, more like hesitation, as though they weren’t entirely convinced you would be gone by morning. Or perhaps… that they didn’t want you to be.

That thought lingered now, swirling in your mind as your body sank deeper into the mattress. Their kindness, their calmness—they made you feel safe, soothed the fears that had gripped you earlier. Yet, there was something unspoken between the three of you.

A sigh escapes your lips. You can feel sleep creeping over you, warm and heavy, pulling you under. The memory of Xavier’s reassuring smile and Zayne’s attentive gaze lingers in your mind, their faces blurring at the edges as your thoughts dissolve into a haze.

They are both so kind. And so handsome.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

A low whine escapes your lips before you even open your eyes. The ache in your body is heavy and relentless. Every muscle protests as you shift, but you force your eyelids open. The room is warm, the fire crackling faintly in the hearth. Someone must’ve light it while you were still asleep.

‘I said I’d leave in the morning.’ You glance over at the clock—it’s 11 a.m. That’s not really morning, but it is time for you to leave. If only you felt better.

You wince as you slowly, painfully, push yourself out of bed. Your legs feel weak, your body sluggish, like you’re moving through water. Every movement sends a wave of soreness through your bones, but you grit your teeth and push through. You don’t want to linger here any longer than you have to.

Grumbling under your breath, you stagger toward the door, your feet barely shuffling across the hardwood. You’re still dressed in the warm clothes Zayne gave you, though they feel a little too big now. You’ll just ask for your things and be on your way. You’ll return their clothes once you fully recover.

Goosebumps spread all over your skin as you open the door, the chill air of the hallway shocking your senses. It is completely quiet, only the soft creak of the floorboards under your slippers breaking the silence. More doors sit along the hallway, likely bedrooms as well. You glance at them briefly, but you step towards the staircase ahead. The polished mahogany wood gleams faintly, and you internally groan at the thought of making it down the steps in your current state.

You’re about to take your first step when—

“Hey!”

The voice comes out of nowhere, stopping you in your tracks. You freeze, your heart jumping in your chest as footsteps echo from above, growing louder as they approach. Turning, you find yourself face-to-face with a man descending the stairs. He’s tall and moves with an almost feline grace. His hair is gorgeous - messy curls of muted violet and his eyes, an unusual blend of blue and pink, are sharp and full of curiosity. His plump lips are pulled in an amused smirk.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice is teasing, though there’s a touch of disapproval in it. His arms cross over his chest, as he takes in your disheveled state.

You blink at him, still trying to shake off the fog in your head. “I - I need to leave.”

He narrows his eyes, looking you up and down. “You should stay in bed,” he says firmly, stepping closer. “You look like you’re about to collapse.”

He is right, you do feel like you’re about to collapse, yet you can’t help but notice how striking he is. His hair, his eyes, even the way he moves—it’s all captivating. But you force those thoughts away, shaking your head slightly. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

He uncrosses his arms, offering a small smile that’s both charming and a little smug. “Oh, right. I’m Rafayel.” His voice dips slightly, your name falling from his lips. “I’m staying here too. Zayne told me what happened.”

You blink again, taken aback by how easily he says your name. You hadn’t expected to meet another guest in the house. “Rafayel,” you repeat.

He nods, brushing a hand through his unruly curls. “Yeah. I took care of your clothes. They’re drying in my room,” he adds. “It’s still raining, though, so they might take a while.”

At his words, you pause and listen. Sure enough, you hear the soft, steady patter of rain against the windows. You’d been so focused on leaving that you hadn’t even thought to check the weather. ‘Of course it’s still raining.’ You sigh inwardly, frustration and weariness settling in your chest.

“What about Zayne and Xavier?” you ask, hoping to at least get some help from them.

Rafayel smirks, shaking his head. “They’re sleeping.”

You frown. “Sleeping?”

“Yup,” he says with a shrug, almost dismissive.

Your mind races. You know why you are up so late, but why are they still sleeping. Your mind is about to wander to that corner again, but you stop yourself. ‘They must’ve been exhausted from taking care of an injured stranger.’

Still, the unease lingers. Rafayel’s gaze flickers over you, his eyes softening slightly as if sensing your discomfort. “Look,” he says, his voice gentler now, “you really don’t look like you’re in any shape to leave. Why don’t you rest a bit longer?”

You hesitate, your body aching with every breath, the fatigue weighing you down with each second. He’s right. You’re not ready to leave yet.

Rafayel’s eyes hold yours for a moment. “You’re safe here,” he adds softly.

Just as Rafayel is about to steer you back toward the bedroom, another voice cuts through the air, deep and teasing, with a velvety edge that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Is that the lost kitten?”

You look down the stairs, and there he is. The man who appears next makes the very air around you seem heavier. He’s taller than the other men, with strikingly sharp features. His white hair is tousled yet elegant, and his eyes - a deep, mesmerizing wine-red, lock onto yours with an intensity that makes your stomach flutter.

Before you can even react, the man is standing right in front of you, his height towering over you. You can’t help but gawk, unable to stop yourself from tracing every detail of his sharp jawline, the way his lower lip looks so plump and soft.

Rafayel’s voice, sharp with annoyance, snaps you out of the trance. “You know her name, Sylus.”

But Sylus just smirks. He takes your hand, his fingers long and strong, enveloping yours completely. Your breath catches in your throat as the warmth from his touch sends heat rippling through your body. His hand is so much larger than yours, making you feel almost fragile in his grip.

“My name is Sylus. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Your name drips from his lips, and he bends forward and presses a tender kiss to the back of your hand. The sensation of his cool lips against your flushed skin sends tingles across your arm. You can’t help but blush under the attention.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Rafayel roll his eyes, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. “You’re shameless.” he mutters, though there’s a playful lilt to his voice.

Sylus simply laughs, a low, rich sound, before releasing your hand. With a light touch on your back, Rafayel guides you back toward the bedroom, his hand steady and firm against you. Sylus trails behind, watching with an amused expression.

When you’re back in the bedroom, Rafayel’s hands gently but insistently push you down by the shoulders, guiding you to sit back on the edge of the bed. “Seriously,” you protest, exasperated, “I feel better already! I don’t want to be a burden.”

Sylus leans lazily against the doorframe, his arms crossed, a smirk dancing on his lips as he watches the scene unfold. "You look much too cute to be any kind of burden, kitten," he says, his eyes fixed on you.

Before you can say anything else, Rafayel presses you back into the blankets, his firm but gentle insistence impossible to resist. As you sink back into the bed, Sylus pushes off from the door and approaches with an almost predatory grace. The teasing glint in his eyes fades slightly as he crouches beside the bed, his expression softening as his hand reaches out to press against your forehead. His touch is cool—no wonder, since the rest of the mansion is freezing—and the sensation sends a refreshing chill through your heated skin.

“You still have a fever.” he murmurs, his thumb brushing lightly against your temple.

Rafayel shakes his head, giving you a disapproving look. “See? You’re in no condition to leave. I’ll prepare you tea and breakfast.”

Your protests die on your lips as Sylus pulls away, his touch lingering on your skin. Both men turn around and leave before you can say anything else.

The door shuts softly behind them, leaving you alone once again. You sink deeper into the bed, your body heavy with exhaustion. Your thoughts swirl, still caught in the lingering effect of their presence. You turn on your side, facing the window, staring at the thick velvet curtains that block out the view of raindrops racing down the tall windows. As much as you want to leave, as much as you should leave, you know your body isn’t ready. The fever might not be severe, but it’s enough to weaken you. Slipping away now—especially into the woods with no clear path—feels like a death wish.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips. For now, the best option is to rest and regain your strength. You can’t deny how safe their presence makes you feel, even if you don’t fully understand why. Something about them pulls you in, something more than just their looks.

You close your eyes, letting the exhaustion pull you under.

[syluslnd]

I NEED MORE PREGNANT MC X SYLUS!!

Like, how he would take care of her, how he would react in the birth, discovering the gender..

/my baby fever is killing me i need sylus

sylus when you’re pregnant

Finding out the gender

When Sylus learns the gender of your child and finds out it’s a girl, he’s silent for a moment, absorbing the news with a mixture of surprise and realization. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as he imagines a tiny version of you—someone he could protect, someone who would have his whole heart. Though he’s not one to show too much vulnerability, the thought of a daughter softens his usually intense demeanor.

He’d lean back, watching you with an amused smile. “A girl, huh?” He’d chuckle, reaching out to pull you close. “Guess I’ll have two of you to spoil now.” You’d catch the warmth in his eyes, that flicker of rare, quiet excitement.

Still, Sylus wouldn’t be able to resist teasing. “I better start teaching her how to keep secrets from her mother” he’d joke, his fingers brushing your belly. But when he thought you weren’t looking, you’d catch him in quieter moments, hand resting protectively on your belly, as if he was already prepared to keep both of you safe, no matter what.

Taking Care of You While Pregnant

From the moment he learns about your pregnancy, Sylus becomes almost obsessive about keeping you safe and there’s no negotiating his terms. He insists you stay home, especially on days he’s away and he’s steadfast in his ban on high heels. When you try to argue, Sylus simply raises an eyebrow, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Not a chance, kitten” he’d say with that teasing edge, though you can tell he’s dead serious. “You can save the stubbornness for when you’re not carrying our child.” If you try to wear heels or go out without him, he’d catch you in the act, effortlessly slipping the shoes out of your hand. “I don’t remember giving you permission for these”he’d say and you’d huff, knowing any argument was pointless.

When you’re feeling restless from being cooped up, he’ll pull out every excuse to keep you distracted. “Relax, sweetheart”he’d purr, settling in beside you with a stack of books or a movie. “I’ll keep you entertained.”

He’s vigilant in other ways, too, always attentive to your needs. He’d have the kitchen stocked with anything you might crave and would be the type to insist on doing everything himself, from carrying anything remotely heavy to running out at odd hours for your favorite snacks. Despite his intense, often merciless exterior, you’d see a softer, doting side of him emerge—one that speaks to how deeply he cares.

Being There During Birth

When labor starts, Sylus’s usual calm, controlled demeanor would crack just slightly, though he’d never let you see it. Inside, he’s bracing himself, knowing he’s powerless to control what happens next. But he stands right beside you, gripping your hand, a rare hint of nervousness showing in the tightness of his jaw.

“Easy, sweetie” he’d murmur, brushing the hair back from your face. “Just focus on me, alright?” His voice is steady, even gentle, though there’s an edge in his eyes that says he’d do anything to take the pain for you if he could.

When the pain intensifies, he squeezes your hand a bit tighter, his presence grounding you. He would keep whispering reassurances, telling you how strong you are, how proud he is. At one point, when he catches you wincing, he’d lean in close, his gaze unwavering. “You’re not doing this alone, kitten. I’m right here.”

Once he hears the first cries of your daughter, Sylus lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his hand still tightly holding yours as he looks at you, a flicker of raw emotion in his eyes.

For once, words would escape him; instead, he’d gently brush a kiss against your forehead, his quiet, intense gaze saying everything he couldn’t.

In that moment, he’d be entirely yours and hers, a side of him reserved for only the two of you.

[crypticminx]

nate w reader that has baby fever

Hi anon, this was fun lovey xx

Baby Fever with Nate Jacobs

Slight breeding kink mentioned but not rlly, ditzy reader, Nate being reasonable??

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა

“Nate”

“No.”

“But Nate—“

“Y/n, please.”

You stare at your now provoked boyfriend, who is frustratingly trying to get through his school work. He’s sat at his desk, his books messily sprawled across the surface of the smooth wood, textbook open and notebook filled with neat handwriting as he burns through each question. By this point, his mind is eagerly fighting to stay focused, but as long as you’re there in his bed beside him, he knows he won’t finish.

“Nate!” You yell again, this time biting your tongue from laughter as you can see his face grow red with tension.

“Y/n, I said no,” he runs his fingers through his hair, feeling like he can’t keep up with neither you or his homework. Defeat wasn’t an easy solution for him.

“But whyyy,” you whine as you turn off your phone and lay on your chest, your legs happily kicking away. Dressed in nothing but Nate’s oversized sweater and some knee high socks, he would be an absolute liar if he didn’t find you so desirably hot in this very moment.

But he also found the strength to maintain his composure with what little self respect he had for himself.

“Because we’re too young to have a fucking baby,” he sighs, stopping himself from raising his voice at you without the further intent of making you feel like you’ve done something wrong.

It doesn’t phase you though.

You roll your eyes, exaggerating the size of them as you huff in annoyance of your boyfriend being extremely noncompliant with your needy request.

In all fairness, it wasn’t your fault.

You were cute. Nate was really fucking cute. Thus, the rash realization that the two of you would definitely make cute babies.

“Okay so not now…,” you speak to him as if you’re trying to trick him. The way your voice trails with giddiness sets him to believe that whatever you’re conspiring isn’t going to be reasonable or ideally realistic.

He stares at you with a blank expression, his eyes don’t flash their usual sparkle and he seems rather unimpressed by how good you are at making him feel irked.

“Sooooo what about tomorrow?”

He slams his textbook down, the noise is loud and almost thunderous as you slightly jolt. Your smile fades as you can see he might actually be upset, but it didn’t make sense.

When the two of you got down to business, he praised you. He acted like he worshiped the very ground you walked on and treated you like a princess. He’d whisper things to you—very private, sentimental statements that made your heart flutter with an overwhelming sense of pride.

And now he was mad at you?

You cross your arms, trying not to let out all the steam burried inside your frustrations as he was quick to apologize.

“Babe, I’m sorry,” he groaned, rubbing his forehead as he took a seat next to you. He ran his fingers down your bare thigh, the smooth motion of his hands were enough to make you feel relaxed again, but he wasn’t off the hook.

“If you’re so sorry, why can’t you give me a baby…” you pout, tossing him a big frown that almost made him feel sorry for you.

He doesn’t know how to explain it, it seems you’re too cooped up in your own little fantasy world where having baby isn’t unrealistic and wouldn’t be a huge deal.

“Y/n,” he carefully plays with your hair, pushing a loose strand behind your ear to see the full extent of your face on display, however, you didn’t seem happy. “We’re in high school, how are we going to juggle having a baby?”

“Ugh,” you push him away, playfully of course, “don’t give me that talk, Nate.”

He shrugs his shoulders, letting his mind trail to the possibilities of getting you pregnant. and in all honesty, it didn’t seem too bad. He always wanted a child, but the timing and the moment just didn’t match up with that idea.

It would cause havoc, with both your family and his. He had no doubt about that as he could hear his fathers aggravating voice shout in his head, telling him how much of an awful father he would turn out to be. That alone was offputting.

“Don’t you wanna cum in me?”

And there you were, edging him with that soft voice of yours that knew how to get him riled up with heat. You bat your eyelashes, titling your head with a devious grin.

“Fill me up with your baby? I know you want to….Nate.” The words roll off your toungue as he fails to keep himself from melting away. He wants nothing more than to make you his—but would he ruin his life just to give you something that you want?

That would be something the two of you would find out—in a few months time.

[starlight-library]

Impromptu dates | LN4

pairing: lando norris x sick!bookworm!reader

summary: a bookworm & f1 driver + stomach bug = the best lazy date ever.

warnings: none!

fc: none!

wc: 859

Most people hated being sick.

It’s understandable that people hated being sick. They don’t feel. They feel gross. They feel off. The list goes on and on on why people hated being sick. Especially people who are more independent and hate the idea of someone else taking care of them. Which you understood as it hit a bit too close to home.

Which is why as someone fiercely independent as you are, people never understood why you enjoy being sick. 

You could never find the words to explain it when people ask you on the spot. You try and try yet you’re never happy with your answer and people never quite believed you which was fair but you didn’t care. You enjoyed it when you were sick. 

Not violently ill, which you emphasize. You did not enjoy running a super high fever, or running to the bathroom, or having your head constantly over a toilet vomiting up basically nothing. That was not fun. You enjoy the kind of sickness where you can’t go out into the world for a day or two. Maybe a low grade fever that’ll pass or a quick stomach bug that’s out of your system fast but you still take the precaution and stay indoors. 

Why?

Well that’s because it means you can stay under the covers after a shower with your kindle in its little tablet holder. Page turner remote in hand while having your water and drink of choice (mostly iced coffee), and some white noise as background noise. It was truly perfection for you.

Yet it was Lando’s hell.

Lando, your boyfriend, hated when you were sick. It meant no cuddles. No hugs. No kisses. Any physical contact was on halt and it was already torture given his schedule so the rare time he did get to see you in person and you were sick? He was miserable. Sure, you two video called but it just made him more sad that he wasn’t there to take care of you even if you swore that you didn’t need someone to take care of you. He refused to believe it so he would send you meals and medicine. He refused to let you pay him back so you’ve learned to accept it without the guilt weighing on your shoulders. It was a nice agreement you two had silently made and nothing really could beat this.

Until now.

There was a month break in between Singapore and Austin and Lando was going to soak up every second he could get and it was fine till somehow you caught a stomach bug. Lando refused to leave which also meant he caught the stomach bug.

You’re happily half laying/half sitting next to Lando against some pillows under a weighted heated blanket. You have one of his sweatshirts on while sipping your iced coffee and looking at your kindle while Lando tosses and turns next to you. You tried offering him medicine or some crackers and soup but he’s turned all the options down but now it seems he’s settled down. You look over and are greeted with the same green-blue eyes you’ve grown to pick out of the crowd in a moment. You see the curls sticking to his forehead and gently you push some out of the way and smile. “Hey.”

“How are you drinking iced coffee right now?” The Brit asks.

You shrug before smiling, “I don’t know. Guess I feel better after cleaning my stomach out and taking some medicine unlike someone.” Poking his forehead, you giggle while he huffs slightly and moves his head away. You hear Lando grumble something about the medicine tasting bad and you roll your eyes. “You’re such a big baby.”

Lando pouts slightly grumbling he is not a big baby before you return to your book. You look back hearing a huff and raise a brow. “Yes?”

“How do you just lay here and read and do nothing? I’m so bored yet too tired to get up.”

You shrug, “I just get really engrossed in my books sometimes I forget to even eat or pee.”

“You what!?” Lando sits up a bit in surprise before laying down and whining at his upset stomach.

“Oh come here.” You start.

You shift and sit up a bit more and reach over and rearrange your nightstand. You move your drinks further back along with your tablet holder before grabbing your TV remote and turning the TV on. You watch Lando lay there for a moment before shifting closer. He tosses and turns before slowly he settles on his stomach letting a soft sigh of relief out. Wrapping his arms around your waist, the Brit nuzzles his face into your stomach before settling down and looking at the TV. Lando flips through some apps and television options before settling on ‘The Hangover’.

Settling back down against the pillows you run your fingers gently through his hair while you go back to your book, the movie becoming background noise for you. This is how you two spend the evening and it’s the best impromptu date and now becomes your go to date.

[sigh-tofm]

when they’re sick…

… price

- banishes himself to the couch and refuses care (to begin with). huffs and gruffs about not needing any special treatment, “‘s only a cold, hon”. his high fever begs to differ, though, so you pull out wool socks and thick knit jacket for him, not willing to let this cold develop into pneumonia. he goes on and on about how it’s not necessary, but you gently ignore him and cook up broth and toast for him in the kitchen, all the while overhearing his violent coughing fits. when you go back out to the living room he’s already asleep, not even snoring, and so pale in the face that he looks much older than he is. you pull a blanket over him and patiently sit next to him in an armchair, reading your book. when he wakes up he lets you dote on him without much complaining (though he doesn’t let you spoon feed him) and begrudgingly agrees to let you call his doctor in the morning if the coughing gets worse. he won’t say it but he secretly likes being taken care of for once.

… kyle

- loves being doted on by you. knows how to play it up a little, has observed his sisters get exactly what they want once they start coughing. bats his lashes at you and for lunch he sweetly asks for that chicken soup you know he likes so much. you let him get away with it because he is the most attentive boyfriend ever every time you’re even slightly under the weather - and you like getting to take care of the man who normally is so attuned to your needs. he will forgo the couch in favour of the bed and smile the way only he can when you come by with a tray of food for him. when the evening comes he’s long since fallen asleep when you come to bed. he’s grown more and more feverish throughout the day, despite your careful ministering of hydration and nourishment, and his face is ashen. you get a cool washcloth to put over his eyes and lie down next to him, gently spooning your wonderful boyfriend who could use some extra loving right now.

… johnny

- kinda wants you to get sick too. not in a malicious way, but in a ‘let’s rot on the couch together’-way. will beg you to stay home with him, says he needs you to keep him company while he watches footie reruns and that you’ll probably get sick either way when you already live in the same house and sleep in the same bed, so you might as well just take the week off. is in a cheery mood, especially considering the number showing on the thermometer and the way he slowly stumbles across the floor. you almost start thinking he’s making it all up, maybe heating the thermometer on a light bulb like a schoolboy, until you come home one day and find him bent over the toilet bowl, groaning. you take a little pity on him then and cook him plain rice and slice up a banana for him, easily digestible foods. he has no complaints nor requests and is unusually silent as you bundle him up and serve him the food (but still make him sit on the bathroom floor, he’s still looking a little green). he gets a sad little smile when you tell him you’ll take the day off tomorrow, because he shouldn’t be alone if he can’t keep food down. and as he said, you’ll probably get sick anyway, so you might as well.

… simon

- is lost. it happens so rarely to him that he doesn’t know how to respond to it. gunshot wounds, stab wounds and broken bones are fine; those he knows how to handle. rattling coughs, nausea and fevers are so rare for him that he doesn’t quite know what to do. one thing he does know is that it makes him vulnerable. a man who can’t stand up without leaning on a wall or can’t breathe silently is no use, he knows, so he does his best to hide it. denies it when you ask about his cough and shakes his head every now and then to fight off the nausea (it doesn’t work). you catch on when you lie a hand on his neck and retract it quickly when you feel the heat on his skin. you make him take a lukewarm shower and sit him down on the sofa with a blanket over his shoulders, while you go make soup. when you come back he’s laid down, as if he’s finally let the sickness catch up with him. he looks like the child he never got to be, all glassy eyed and skin blushing from the fever. you sit with him the rest of the night, spoon feeding him soup and gently petting his hair. if that’s a tear running down his cheek, none of you say anything about it.

[bananayuyu]

Cabin Fever [part 1]

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: fluff and smut

Word count: 9.8k

Summary: A trip to the woods with your friends is always the highlight of your year. But sometimes, your body gets in the way of you being able to enjoy anything. Thankfully someone is there to comfort you, in just the way you need.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, fingering, reader is on her period while said fingering is occurring, reader has really severe period cramps

A/n: My period this last week was the worst one I've had in a while, and I kept thinking the whole time I wished Yunho was there to comfort me. This is for my fellow chronically ill besties <3 I hope everyone is taking good care. Also I'm thinking of making a part two, if not turning this into a whole series as I have so many ideas of where to take things. Let me know your thoughts!

You can read part 2 here!

Every year you and your high school friends visited your favorite cabin in the woods. It was cozy and old and probably too small for the seven of you; it was perfect for a summer get away. Each year you all saved up, and when the weather became too hot to bear in the city, you booked a week in the forest. The natural hot spring tub out back, the easy trails on the mountain behind, and the trees that occasionally graced you with their delicious fruit, made it your favorite place. Each and every summer you anticipated it with a giddiness that nothing else could make you feel.

***

You lived with two of your friends from high school, in a small two bedroom house not far from the neighborhood you grew up in. You and Seonghwa each had a bedroom, and Yunho's bedroom was the basement. You wouldn't have thought living with two men would lead to the clean and orderly house you resided in, but thankfully Seonghwa was as much of a clean freak as you. You lived meticulously, due to having many health issues that had been with you your whole life.

It started when you were little, with allergies developing what felt like every week. You had to be careful with what you ate, what you drank, what medication you took. Then there were the fainting spells, which started in high school. Eventually it was understood that your blood pressure was to blame, and your weak heart. And then there were your periods. Always horrible, no matter what you did. You had been put on every type of hormonal birth control at one point or another, and nothing worked. Finally you decided it wasn't worth it anymore, the hoards of drugs and doctor's appointments, and you decided to live a simple life instead, to take things easy, to not ever push too hard. To stop trying to force your body to be normal. You didn't really have a choice in the matter; your body broke down whenever it needed to, and school and work and your social life had to be pushed aside. It made these yearly trips to the woods all the more exciting. Sometimes it was the only time you got to see the group together all year.

This year as you, Seonghwa and Yunho prepared for your trip you realized one achingly frustrating thing. Your period was due to arrive on the fourth day of the trip, if it came on time. You sighed heavily when you realized this, dragging yourself up to grab pads, tampons for the hot spring, your massive bottle of Tylenol and your heating pad, and placing them in your suitcase. You just hoped it wouldn't be too bad, if it did come during the trip. Sometimes they could be late or early, and you hoped that maybe this time your body could make things easy on you, and delay it just a bit.

That night you fell asleep on the couch, accidentally staying up reading too late. As the morning light broke through the blinds you stirred, eyes squinting at the brightness. You groggily made your way towards the bathroom, barely seeing where you were going. You almost ran right into Yunho as he walked down the hall towards the kitchen, and he grabbed your shoulders to prevent you from crashing into each other.

"Good morning," he said, laughing at the state of you.

"I fell asleep on the couch," you groaned.

"Yeah I know, I saw. The book was that good?" he teased. You rolled your eyes. He didn't totally understand your obsession with reading.

"So good it almost felt like I was playing a video game, or something," you teased back.

This was the nature of your relationship with him. He was one of your closest friends by far, but you two were just so different. You worked part-time as the assistant of an accountant, and in your free time read books. He was a choreographer with a crazy schedule, and loved nothing more than gaming whenever he could. He was full of energy; you were prone to exhaustion and fainting. He needed his busy schedule, his stimulating life. You could barely handle leaving the house most of the time. But regardless of these differences your friendship blossomed. With Seonghwa it was sweeter; he was the sweetest person you'd ever met. He was usually the one who took care of you when you'd had a bad allergic reaction, or helped clean up your room when you were far too exhausted to. But Yunho had been there every time you'd had a bad fainting spell, carrying you to the hospital, staying with you overnight. He was always there for you, and made you laugh when you felt like shit. He was an invaluable part of your life, even if he didn't totally understand you.

"Ari texted the group chat late last night, did you see?" he asked you. Ari was the only other girl in the friend group, and you usually shared a room with her on your trips.

"No, what did she say?"

"She's bringing San," he said.

"Ooh, we finally get to meet him for real," you reply, lifting your eyebrows in excitement at finally meeting her new boyfriend. You'd seen pictures and talked to her about him for hours, and you couldn't wait to finally meet him in person.

"And Wooyoung is gonna bring his cousins, I think?"

"Yeah he said he's bringing Yeosang and Jongho with him this year," you reply, having just heard the news the day before while packing. "There's going to be so many of us this year, I'm not sure how we'll all sleep and everything."

"We'll figure it out when we get there," Yunho says reassuringly. Then he looks at you and chuckles. You narrow your eyes, knowing he's laughing at you. "Just go look at yourself in the mirror," he says.

You playfully shove him out of the way and make your way into the bathroom, seeing your ridiculously messy hair he was laughing at. You quickly get yourself ready for the day, knowing you all have to leave soon to pick up Ari and meet up with everyone else. When you make your way to the kitchen you see that Yunho has made you a cup of chamomile, your favorite tea. As you sip it you taste the honey he added and smile, smile at the way he seemed to read your mind. You were craving chamomile with honey today.

Seonghwa exits his room looking extremely put together in a black turtle neck and fitted black pants, his suitcase fully packed and his hair perfectly coiffed. You look down at your tank top and comfy jean shorts, and back up to him.

"You always make me look so underdressed," you say with a small pout.

"Well, you're so beautiful so you don't even have to try," he says, pulling you into a hug. A crazy thing for him to say to you, given that he's literally employed as a model. And quite successfully, at that. "Some of us have things to compensate for, clearly." He spins around, showing you his outfit and laughing at himself.

"It looks so good, but you are going to burn up in the car, Hwa," you reply.

"I'll be fine, I'll be fine," he laughs.

"He's got someone to impress, y/n, remember," Yunho interjects, handing Seonghwa the cup of coffee he made for him. Hongjoong is who he means. You giggle of the memory of them hooking up at the last summer trip, thinking they were being so sneaky when everyone knew exactly what was happening.

"How are you simultaneously so annoying and so nice," Seonghwa says to Yunho, making you all laugh.

"That's the perfect description of him," you say, shooting Yunho a smirk.

"How dare you both," Yunho replies as he makes his way down to the basement to grab his bag. He also stops by your room and grabs your suitcase, taking both down to the car and placing them in the trunk. You and Seonghwa follow after him, your tea in one hand and book in the other. You couldn't wait for a little time spent reading in the cabin.

"It's so funny how he always carries my stuff for me, like I'm some weak little thing," you say to Seonghwa.

"Well you kind of are, honey," Seonghwa says, looking at you softly. Your health issues had been flaring up again recently, and it broke his heart to see his close friend suffering so much.

"I know. It's annoying," you reply, looking away from him as you exit your house. "I just hope nothing happens while we're on the trip."

"We'll all take care of you if anything does," he says, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to comfort you.

"Thank you," you reply as you climbed into the back seat. You make eye contact with Yunho through the rear view mirror, his look attentive and curious.

"Ready?" he asks you, and you nod, holding his gaze. Since living with him, and really even since high school, he had driven you basically everywhere. You couldn't help but love it.

***

After meeting up with everyone at Ari's apartment you split into your two cars. You, Yunho, Seonghwa, Ari and her boyfriend San would be in Yunho's car. And Wooyoung, Hongjoong, Mingi, Yeosang and Jongho would be in Wooyoung's. You weren't sure how having ten people in the cabin would go, but you decided not to worry. This time of year was not for dread or anxiety; it was for joy and laughter.

After spending time on the drive talking to Ari and San, you realized he was just as handsome and kind as she told you. You squeezed her arm in excitement, elated that your friend had such a wonderful new boyfriend. Yunho and Seonghwa had expressed concern when they first started dating, given that Ari's last relationship wasn't healthy. But even they seemed swayed by just a few hours with San, with his sweet smile and warm conversation. You all arrived in the highest spirits, you and Ari ditching the car to let the boys carry your things while you excitedly ran to the backyard to dip your toes in the hot spring.

"God, I'm so excited we're back," she said, grabbing your hand. "And I'm excited you're meeting San. What do you think, so far?"

"He seems wonderful. Are you happy, is he always this kind?" You look at her fondly, wanting nothing more than for her to finally experience a healthy love.

"I'm so happy dude. It's just been so smooth, so calm. It's built the way I think these things are supposed to, you know? No rushing, no fighting and making up and fighting again. None of that awful shit that I used to look for. I feel like I'm finally an adult. I guess 25 is my 18," she laughs.

"Girl I'm 25 and barely even independent from my parents. You don't need to feel bad about what's come before." You squeeze her hand, a silent message of love passing between you. "I'm so, so happy for you."

As you make your way inside Yunho calls you over to him.

"Hey, we were just discussing sleeping arrangements. We were thinking Ari and San can have the room with the actual queen bed, and the rest of us boys can sleep in the living room on the couches. There's that little bed nook in the library, would you be okay sleeping there? I know you and Ari usually shared the real bed but I figure her and San would want to sleep in the same room together," he says.

"Oh, of course. But, are all of you going to fit out here with Yeosang and Jongho along?" you ask.

"Well, I'm not sure. We'll see."

"Isn't there a pull out couch in the library?" you ask. It's no surprise you know the small room better than him.

"There is?" he asks.

"Come, let's go see." He follows you through the cabin to your favorite room, seeing the small blue couch in the corner.

"I swear this thing extends or something," you say, crouching down to try to find where to push. Eventually it gives and starts moving, surprising Yunho. When it's finally extended it takes up a lot of the room, and looks almost goofy. But it's reasonably long, definitely somewhere someone else could sleep. You look up at Yunho, assessing how tall he is and how long the bed is. "Think you could fit?" you ask.

Yunho lays himself down, his legs hanging only slightly off the end of the new bed. You go and grab a pillow from your bed nook, tucking it underneath his head.

"Well it can fit one person, for sure. I doubt any more though, unless any of the boys want to be cuddled up that close," he says.

"Seonghwa and Hongjoong?" you offer. Yunho laughs.

"You want them in here doing stuff at night right next to you?" he asks. You cringe at his suggestion.

"They wouldn't do that to me," you say, shaking you head at him.

"You never know," he says, starting to make his way out of the room. "If you really just want the room to yourself, that's okay."

"No it's totally fine. You can sleep in here, if you want to. Or Seonghwa. I'd be okay with either of you. Just let me know."

Yunho nods as you both exit, heading back to the kitchen where everyone is getting ready to make dinner. Wooyoung has nine assistants today, far more than he really needs. But it's fun, bustling around the kitchen with everyone as you prepare a big feast to celebrate the start of the vacation. Soon you see Yunho carrying your bag to the library and soon after, his own bag. And you feel something in you become warm, something low in your gut.

"What are you thinking about?" Ari asks you, seeing the distant look in your eyes.

"Huh?" you say as you turn to her, genuinely surprised.

"You looked like you were daydreaming or something."

"Oh no, just spacing out, sorry," you chuckle, not sure what had just come over you.

"Well look what I got you," she says, holding up a giant bag of your favorite cheesy crackers.

"So I guess you can read my mind or something?" you joke, grabbing the bag and her in a big hug. "Wait, wait right here. I have something for you too."

You run over to the library to grab the bracelet you made Ari last month. You still hadn't had a chance to give it to her and you couldn't wait. As you enter you see Yunho slowly unpacking his bag, setting his phone and charger on the small end table but the blue couch. You rifle through your own bag to find the small box you had packed for Ari, yourself unpacking a few things in the process. In the silence of the moment you begin to feel warm again; you look over at Yunho and soak in his messy hair, his loose clothing that makes him look so soft and comfy. You stare unabashedly, unsure of what's come over you. Usually you hate starting, hate eye contact.

"What?" is all he says, but you feel like there might be something more he wants to ask.

"So you're staying in here?"

"Yeah, Hwa wants to stay with Hongjoong out there. I figured you would rather it just be one person in here with you, more comfortable for you."

You smile and reach your arms out to him, still sat on the floor. He gives you a quizzical look, insure what your gesture means.

"Come, give me a hug," you say. "You've been so thoughtful today."

In the short moments of your hug a silence hangs around the two of you. Yunho had never been one for serious sincerity. He definitely never knew what to say when you said things like this. When he stayed with you in the hospital and you cried in his arms, thanking him endlessly for being there with you. When your allergic reactions left you weak and groggy and you wouldn't stop telling him how much you loved him, and how much you worried he'd abandon you for being so needy and sick. You said the same to Seonghwa too, but Yunho could understand that better. It made more sense to him. When you said it to him it made his brain stop in a way that he still hadn't figured out.

***

The evening was off to a perfect start. Ari loved her bracelet, the project you had been promising to make her for months now, and everyone else loved it too. Everyone showered you with compliments and showered Wooyoung with them too, after tasting the delicious meal he had whipped up. You all gathered in the living room to eat, spreading out over the large L-shaped couches and the floor. A favorite cheesy movie was watched, a bottle of wine opened. Everyone laughed and relaxed, helping to clean up in the kitchen after the movie was over. And then to the hot spring you all went, as was tradition. You always started and ended the holiday with a group soak; attendance was mandatory.

In the heat and steam of the tub everyone opened up, even the most quiet among you. There was something about the nature of the tub that made everyone vulnerable, and for you it had always been one of the best parts of these trips. Everyone was cuddled up together given the size of the tub, and the proximity seemed to fuel the spilling of secrets. This year especially, with all ten of you, everyone was shoulder to shoulder. Ari sat on San's lap to try to save on space, and as everyone began piling in you ended up squeezed between Seonghwa and Yunho. The crowdedness felt like too much for you, and before he could make an objection, you decided to sit on Yunho's lap.

"There's not enough room in here," you said quietly to him when you felt his surprise.

"Yeah I know," he replied, letting you wrap his arms around you. You sensed some tension and hesitation in him, though.

"Should I move?" you asked, turning around to face him.

"No, no, you're fine. How else will we fit everyone?" he replied.

You turned around satisfied but then caught a smile on Mingi's face, one that seemed to be in reaction to you and Yunho. You shot him a confused look and he glanced away, clearly feeling caught in his reaction. And then you turned and saw Wooyoung eyeing you, too.

"What?" you said to him, turning your head and looking at him sideways.

"Nothing, nothing." But then his characteristic smirk formed on his lips; he had lost the fight in trying to delay it. You knew exactly what this meant.

"Oh god, don't tell me you have some huge piece of gossip to share with all of us," you said, sighing. It was always Wooyoung who started out with something, anything dramatic to share. He always broke the ice, and really, you appreciated it. Even if you made fun of him for being so obsessed with gossiping.

"Well, no, not really," he replied, looking almost shy. It didn't seem very characteristic of him. He took a deep breath and swallowed, and you all held your breath as you awaited his story.

"He has a crush," Mingi broke in, clearly not wanting to wait any longer. "It's this woman who choreographed for that music video we worked on a couple of weeks ago." Mingi and Wooyoung were backup dancers, and often worked on projects together.

"It's not just a crush, we're like kind of dating now," Wooyoung added, clearly shocking Mingi with this new information.

"Are you serious?" Mingi replied, and Wooyoung nodded his head. "Guys she's gorgeous. And so intense and smart. And isn't she like 40?"

"She's 37 Mingi, god," Woo replied, giggling and looking very pleased with himself. It had been a long time since he'd even been interested in dating, and everyone in the tub was looking surprised and amused. "We actually.... we hooked up on set one day."

"Wooyoung! Bad idea!" you replied, shocked he would even share this information. But then again, you were in the hot spring tub. And plenty of wine had been consumed.

"How did you even manage that?" Mingi laughed.

"In a trailer, you know.." Wooyoung trailed off, clearly embarrassed and nervous to tell the story. But just as always it had achieved the affect it needed to, and soon everyone was spilling their secrets, updating everyone on every funny thing that had happened in the past year. You continued to sip your wine, drinking slowly given how much of a lightweight you were. You hadn't finished your first glass still, even through the movie and dinner. Yunho kept making you drink water too, nervous that you'd become dehydrated and get sick. As the night wore on you relaxed more into his lap, more into his arms. You held his hands on your lower stomach, over that place that felt so warm earlier when you looked at him. Finally, when everyone decided to call it night, he wrapped a towel around you both and led you through the dark path back to the house. In your tipsy state you kept repeating "shower, shower" so he led you there, running to grab your phone when you demanded it. As you stripped out of your swimsuit and took a look at yourself in the mirror you saw that happy girl you always saw here, surrounded by her favorite people and completely content. The shower was quick but felt delicious, and as you exited you felt blissful and relaxed. Until you realized you'd forgotten to bring a towel with you.

There were only two bathrooms in the cabin, one connected to the actual master bedroom with the actual queen bed, and one for everyone else to share. You couldn't walk through the house naked and dripping with so many people here, especially Wooyoung's cousins who you didn't know well. Thankfully your phone was still there on the counter where Yunho had left it, so you called him.

"Can you bring me a towel?" you asked when he answered. And then quickly, "and some clothes too, please."

"Anything else, your highness?" Yunho teased you.

"Shut up, I'm cold," you whined.

"What clothes do you want?" he asked.

"Just, those black shorts and one of my t-shirts, I don't care which. Just something comfy for sleeping in."

"No underwear?" he asked.

"Yes no underwear, I'm about to go to bed. I usually sleep naked but I have to wear clothes when we're here." You swore his breath hitched a bit.

"Be there in a moment," he replied before ending the call. In a moment he was there, knocking the door. You opened it slowly, and saw him holding his arm out to you while dramatically facing his head the other way.

"You don't have to be so damn weird, I know you've seen plenty of naked humans in your life," you said, laughing at him.

"You make me sound like a slut," he replied.

"Maybe you are, how am I to know."

"I can't believe you of all people are calling me a slut."

"What the hell does that mean?" you ask, eyes wide.

"I know those little romance books you read are full of smut," he challenges you.

"I'm literally reading a book about history right now, thank you very much," you respond.

"Yeah the history of changing attitudes about sex. Even your non-fiction reads are horny."

You stand still for a moment, mouth agape. You didn't realize Yunho payed that much attention to the books you were reading. To know what he just said about your current book, he would have had to at least read the synopsis on the inside cover, if not a bit of the introductory chapter. You feel a little weird that he'd sneakily been perusing your book when you hadn't been looking, probably this morning while you were asleep on the couch, you guessed. But something about it felt really nice too. Like he cared to know you, cared to know about the things you liked. Even if they were so different from what he usually was into.

"Are you two good?" Seonghwa asked as he meandered down the hall, hearing the slight intensity in your tone during your conversation with Yunho. At the sound of his voice you both snapped out of it, and at seeing you naked he turned around with a quick, 'oh, sorry,' before heading back to the living room.

You dried off and dressed quickly, realizing you spent several moments naked in front of Yunho while you argued. It wasn't really an argument, more a discussion maybe? Or a confession? He admitted to knowing what kind of books you liked to read, and you hadn't denied it. None of it had to mean anything, you implored yourself. As you had said, he'd seen plenty of other people naked before. Well, at least several. It's just the trip, the glass of wine consuming your brain and making you fuzzy. But it felt like things had shifted that day.

***

As you and Yunho settled into bed you began chatting, and before you knew it, it was the early hours of the morning, the time you rarely stayed up to, the time when the world felt like a completely different place to you.

"I've missed you," you said, sighing into the comfort of the blankets and pillows beneath you.

"Me too," Yunho replied, quickly. Like the response was almost involuntary. You opened your eyes to look at him, as his words weren't what you were expecting.

"I'm sorry I've been so busy. I miss hanging out with you, just the two of us," he continued. "You're one of my favorite people on planet earth, you know that right?" It was completely out of character for him. Like the years of sincerity he'd kept inside had been begging to be let free and he finally obliged. You sat up and walked to the couch he laid on, mere steps from your bed. You leaned down next to him and hugged him, too tired to give a verbal response. You sighed and nuzzled your face into his shoulder, relaxing on top of him completely.

"Are you still tipsy?" he asked.

"No, why?" you asked. You were too tired to move your head.

"You're only this touchy when you're drunk usually."

"I don't really ever get drunk though."

"I know, I mean, this is how you used to get when you would get drunk. Like in high school, when we'd drink."

"Oh. Sorry?" you asked. You didn't really understand why he was telling you this.

"No, I like it. I was just, trying to joke around," he sighed. "Wasn't the right moment probably. Wasn't funny."

You fell into a silence again, briefly.

"So it's fine, right? I can hug you?" you asked.

"Yes, of course." To prove his point he wrapped his arms around you more tightly, one hand coming to rest on the back of your neck. "You seem happy right now, today."

"I am, these trips always make me happy," you reply.

"Your happiness means a lot to me." He seemed almost nervous to say it, like he had to work himself up to it.

"Why are you being so sappy today?" you laugh, nuzzling farther into him. He glanced at the clock on the wall, looking for an excuse.

"It's 2am, I don't know."

"Shit, it's that late? I should really get some sleep." You knew the plan for tomorrow was hiking up to the water fall, and though the hike was neither long nor strenuous, you still wanted to be well rested. "Goodnight," you said as you dragged yourself up, planting a quick peck on his cheek before crawling into your bed. Sleep enveloped you quickly, given the relaxing nature of the day and the late hour. Yunho turned himself over, trying to get comfortable on the small pull out couch. You didn't see the bright pink of his cheeks, or the rapid rise and fall of his chest. You had no idea you had any affect on him. A life of sickness had left you mostly uninterested in pursuing romantic affections, and you'd truly never dreamed of a long term romantic partnership with anyone. Yunho knew this, well. But he couldn't stop his feelings, no matter how hard he tried to.

***

In the morning you were woken by a bright, hot stream of sun that shined through the window, that late morning sunshine that is surprisingly warm on clear-skied days like today. With a groan you cracked open your eyes to see that Yunho had already awoken and left, the room silent. Your head felt groggy and your stomach ached a bit, and you instantly scolded yourself for drinking your first night and staying up so late. Sure, it had been fun in the moment, but you couldn't afford to make yourself feel poorly on such a special trip. You hoisted yourself up, taking a swig from your nearly empty water bottle that Yunho must have put on the side of your bed. You certainly didn't remember putting it there.

When you finally pushed yourself up to stand you felt something wet on your bed. You turned around expecting to find some spilt water, but were instead greeted with a disappointing and frustrating sight. A small streak of blood ran across the beautiful, light blue sheets. As you felt around your shorts you found a spot there too, wet and cold against your fingers. You let out a frustrated sigh, running yourself to the bathroom with a new change of underwear and shorts and a pad in hand. You desperately rinsed your shorts in the sink, your mind beginning to spin and spin. What were you going to do about the bedsheets?

As you came back into your small room you didn't notice Yunho, your focus entirely on where you could hang your shorts to dry. When he spoke you jumped back in complete shock, nearly falling over.

"You okay?" he asked, lurching forward to try to prevent you from falling. You thankfully caught yourself in time, but then your eyes wandered to your bed and you knew he'd seen.

"I don't know what I'm gonna fucking do," you started, tears forming your eyes from the embarrassment. It wasn't getting your period that made you feel so weird, it was the fact that you'd stained the nice bedsheets at the nice cabin you and your friends were renting, and it was only the second day.

"Well, what do you need? I'm sure we can get that stain out of the sheets," Yunho offered, hoping it would make you feel better.

"We? They have my blood on them," you responding, trembling. Why were you so worked up, what the hell had gotten into you? Your own anxiety at the situation shocked you and Yunho both.

"It's just blood, y/n. And it's like barely anything." Yunho grabbed your upper arms to steady you, worried your trembling would land you in a heap on the floor. And then suddenly, a horrible cramp stabbed its way through your abdomen. You immediately groaned and grabbed your side, leaning against one of the bookshelves to support yourself.

"Fuck, I need my Tylenol," you breathed out, trying to calm yourself. It felt like your entire body was collapsing on you in an instant. And your period had only just started early this morning, maybe only a few hours ago from the looks of it.

Yunho grabbed two Tylenol and and opened your water bottle, offering you both one after the other. He had seen Seonghwa do this many times and he hoped he was doing it right. You quickly swallowed the pills and took a deep breath, worried you wouldn't be able to join everyone for the hike that day. A tear slipped down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away, wanting to push down your feelings of discomfort.

"I just need to wait until this kicks in and I'll be okay," you said, hoping it sounded convincing. Hoping it was true.

"Let me clean your sheet, then," Yunho said, leading you down to lay on the pull out couch.

"Do you even know how to clean out blood?" you asked, shoving your face into his pillow. It smelled so good and suddenly you felt warm again, this time through your whole body.

"I was gonna ask Ari about it," he said. "If it's okay for me to tell her."

"Ask Hwa for help too, he knows," you replied. With a sigh you wrapped yourself tightly in his blanket, hiding your face. Everything that had happened this morning was so frustrating, and you couldn't stop feeling angry at your body for always ruining your plans.

Remarkably, twenty minutes later you did feel a lot better. No more severe jabs of pain had come, and once you got some food in you and washed your face, you felt ready for the day. Everyone packed their bathing suits for the falls and put on their good shoes for hiking, and with snacks and waters in hand you made your way up to the edge of the forest to find the start of the trail.

You walked arm in arm with Ari, picking flowers off the side of the path to put in each other's hair. The blossoms in this area were beautiful during this time of year, and the trees made the trail quiet and calm and cool. When you ran out of space in Ari's hair you started putting the flowers in Seonghwa and Hongjoong's too, the only other two who walked the trail as slowly as you and Ari did. Even with the slow pace you began to feel queasy about half way up, and when you sat down, unable to take it anymore, Seonghwa called out to Yunho. He came and crouched down in front of you, telling you to climb onto his back, and carried you the rest of the way, the gentle breeze blowing his hair into your face and tickling your nose. It was a bit longer now than it had been in a while, looking almost like a shaggy mullet. As it brushed across your face you realized you thought it looked really good on him, how it complimented his long neck and round cheeks. You shook your head trying to stir yourself out of your daydream. You had always recognized he was attractive, but you didn't like him like that, never had. Why did you care how well his hairstyle complimented his face?

At the falls you sat on a long log at the edge of the small lake, not feeling up to swimming and playing with everyone else. Seonghwa could sense it easily, and after Yunho asked for his help that morning cleaning your sheets he knew why. He sat with you, not bothering to put on his suit either. He had wanted to talk to you anyway, wanted to spend a moment alone. These trips were always fun but it was hard to get one on one time with anyone.

"You okay?" he asked as you watched the others playing in the water, Yunho and Mingi wrestling each other for an inflatable ball. It seemed like they were all playing some sort of water polo from the looks of things.

"Yeah, yeah. Just my period. How are you?" you asked turning to him, seeing the conflict behind his eyes.

"I'm... I'm fucking spiraling, girl." He shook his head and dropped it onto your shoulder, letting out a massive sigh.

"Why, cause of that guy?" you asked, looking in the direction of Hongjoong. Seonghwa just nodded. In the brilliance of the mid day sun Hongjoong looked like he was shining, his tattoos standing out starkly against his pale skin. The ball was in his hand and San lunged for him, and he threw it up just in time as they crashed into each other, a laughing mess. As the two came up for air San was repeatedly apologizing, the both of them being yelled at by the other players to get back in the game. After some more moments of play Hongjoong grabbed onto a rock on the side of the small lake underneath the waterfall, pulling himself up to grab a bottle of water a few feet away. As he pulled himself up you saw the ripple of his chest and abdomen.

"Damn, he's like really ripped," you said, smiling down at Seonghwa.

"Don't say shit like that to me," he groaned into your shoulder. "You're just making this worse."

"What's wrong? Why are you spiraling?" you asked him.

"Dude, I like him a lot. Like a lot a lot." Seonghwa's hand came up to his face, a small whimper escaping his lips. You knew he was on the verge of crying.

"Come here," you said, turning towards him to give him a proper hug. "Everything's gonna be okay."

"Not if he doesn't like me back," Seonghwa replied.

"He obviously likes you back, what do you mean?"

"I'm just, I just- I don't know what's going to happen. When we all go back to the city. When we're here we're all over each other but then real life comes and I barely see him. I thought I was over it. But clearly not." Soft tears fall from his eyes, down his cheeks and onto the dirt of the forest floor.

"Oh, honey. I'm so sorry," you replied, rubbing your hand up and down his back to comfort him. "You've got to talk to him about it."

"I know, I know, I just." He sighed. "I know I need to, and it's gonna be awkward as hell but I just need to."

"You can do it, I know you can," you said, squeezing him tightly. "Crushes are the fucking worst aren't they."

Seonghwa laughed as you separated, wiping the final tears from his cheeks and sighing more freely. He knew you'd always be there for him, no matter what happened. You didn't need to say it now. And you'd already discussed how it might be awkward for the group if they dated and then broke up. Last year, after your last cabin trip, it was discussed. Even with Yunho. You all agreed that Hwa should do what he wanted, and not worry about everyone else in the group. You were all adults now, and he didn't need to torture himself just to save everyone else's feelings. But it seemed he had tortured himself this last year, anyway. You had thought he maybe was over Hongjoong, that it was just a little fling at the cabin that year. But now you saw that wasn't true.

***

Back at the cabin Wooyoung made another delicious meal, and everyone gathered around the table in the living room for some charades. You took more Tylenol with dinner, your cramps having returned in full force once you made it back to your home base. All through dinner and games you tried to put on a smile, tried to get distracted in the fun. But it wasn't working. As soon as you finished your food you excused yourself, cleaned your dishes and then made your way to your room. You changed your pad for what felt like the fourth time that hour, then plugged your heating pad into the wall as you readied your bed. It was maybe only seven or eight in the evening, but you couldn't take it any longer. And your trusty Tylenol didn't seem to be working well tonight.

After some time resting in bed you heard the door open. Turning your head you saw Yunho walking in with a steaming cup of tea, gingerly handing it over to you to grab.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. The gentle light from the lamp in the corner made his eyes look soft and shiny. He looked down at you with concern, his eyes locked on yours.

"I'm okay," you managed, trying hard not to wince obviously at the pain that had just seared through you.

"I thought, some tea might help. I don't know," he said, his cheeks and ears going every so slightly crimson.

"It does, it's very soothing. Thank you, Yuyu," you said, his favorite nickname rolling off your tongue. Another streak of pain runs through you and you can't stop your face from scrunching up in pain, making Yunho's heart sink.

"What can we do, what makes it better?" he asked.

"There's not much, really, other than what I've done. I took my Tylenol, I've been drinking water, my heating pad, this tea..." You trailed off, smiling for a second at the only other method you know to help alleviate the cramps a bit.

"What, is there something else?" Yunho asked.

"No, well, not really. Basically, at home sometimes if my cramps are really bad it actually helps to like, you know, masturbate. Like it doesn't even necessarily feel super sexual, it just seems to help the muscles down there like relax, when they're all tight and like spasming and stuff." You quickly took a sip of your tea, suddenly noticing your heart rate had sky rocketed. "Obviously I can't do that here, so like it's not an option right now but, yeah, that just, uh, came to my mind."

"You can do that here, if it would help," Yunho replied, fascinated by your rambling. You really didn't get that way often, and he thought it was funny that this was the topic that made you this way.

"No, stop. Plus, I don't even have my tools or anything," you blurted out, suddenly wishing you hadn't.

"Tools?" he asked.

"You know, like, vibrator, dildo, et cetera," you replied, looking at him mildly mortified.

"Ah, I see," he replied with a simple nod of his head. "You don't have to be so nervous talking to me about this. I literally saw you naked last night. Plus, I swear I've heard you and Hwa talking about this kind of stuff a lot?"

Your body fluttered at his admission that he looked at your naked body, and suddenly you felt flushed and flustered. "It's different with him," you said, not meaning to sound so pissed.

"Why, cause he likes guys like you, and I don't?" Yunho asked. He really was genuinely curious.

"Yeah, I guess, I don't know. Yunho, I can't do this right now. I feel like shit." Tears welled in your eyes at all of the conflicting feelings you were having, and you just wanted everything to stop.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," he replied, his tone softer. He came over to stroke his hand through your hair, hoping it would distract you from your pain. "I just want to make you feel better."

"There's not really much to do, I just have to bear it. First day is always the worst. Go, have fun with everyone. I don't want this to ruin your evening along with mine."

With a final stroke of your hair Yunho stood, and repeating your action from the night before, leaned down and planted a kiss on your cheek.

"Feel better," he said. This time he saw the color come to your cheeks, and your shy smile as your turned your head away from him.

***

When he reentered your room it was dark, only the light from the moon illuminating the floor. Your heating pad was on the floor, and as he walked towards you it looked like you were asleep; your eyes were closed, breaths were steady and you were curled up on your side with your blanket tucked high into your neck.

He settled down himself, trying his best to be silent. The pull out couch wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep, if he was honest. But he really liked sleeping with you in here, and he was thankful you had let him. He had wanted to ask you straight away, when you showed him the pull out couch. But he treaded lightly, not wanting to push anything.

After a few moments spent responding to texts he finally settled into bed, curling up himself. He heard you shifting around slightly but figured you were just dreaming. Same with the changes in breath he swore he heard. He pleaded with himself to stop worrying and just let you be. But then, he heard a sniffle. Then another. And finally a small whimper, unmistakeable.

"Y/n, you're awake aren't you?" he asked, his voice low. All you could do was let out a groan in response. On instinct Yunho's body shot up, and within a second he was at the side of your bed peering down at you. "Hey, look at me."

You turned over slowly, the pain of your abdomen making it hard for you to move. You looked up at him and he caught a glimpse of your tear stained cheek, your blood shoot eyes and your puffy face. You had been crying, silently, for a while.

"Why did you turn off your heating pad?" he asked you.

"I need to sleep," you squeaked out, sniffling.

"But you're in pain," he said, resting his hand on your cheek. "Can I turn it back on for you?" You nod your head, feeling exasperated and desperate for relief.

"Are you sure there's nothing else that would help? What if I rubbed your back?" Yunho asked, as desperate for your pain to end as you were.

"That might help," you manage, closing your eyes and trying to take in the relief of your heating pad being back on.

Yunho crawls behind you on the bed, and slowly starts massaging you back, focusing his movements on your low back and side that you always seemed to grab onto. His hands feel searingly hot on your body, even with your thin shirt in between, and you begin to tremble uncontrollably.

"Sorry, I'm so cold," you tell him. "And I didn't bring anything warm to wear cause I'm stupid and assumed it would be hot out here."

"Hey, hey, stop that. You are not stupid," he replies. You feel him pull away for a second. "Here, sit up," he says as he reaches his arms out to help you. Before you know it you're being enveloped in the feeling of his hoodie that he just took off; it's warm and smells sweet. He settles back behind you, hands under the hoodie but still over your shirt as he continues to massage you gently. He can feel how tight the muscles in your back and side are, and he can't imagine how awful everything feels inside.

With his hoodie on and his hands on your back you feel like you're surrounded by him, and you aren't ready for the way it makes you feel. You're still groggy but you feel more grounded, and your body feels tingly and alive. It makes the pain almost more present, but it also makes everything else so clear, like the way his strong hands move along your side and the way the hoodie smells better than anything. Your body aches, even your legs, but it's your throbbing pussy that catches you off guard, the way his smell makes you want to open up and be taken.

All at once you realize the dilemma you are in. Being horny on your period wasn't exactly out of the ordinary, but now you were in a bed, horny on your period with a beautiful man, one who clearly loves you and wants nothing more than to make you feel better. You sigh, putting a hand on his to stop his movements, and you roll over to face him. His perfect face is inches from yours and you can't bear it, instead moving yourself down to bury your face in his chest. Your legs intertwine as you grab onto him, the two of you cuddling closer than you have in a very long time. He reaches his arm around you to keep rubbing your back, nuzzling his face into your hair. He's never told you, but he loves the smell of your hair so much. You use an unscented shampoo, due to your sensitivities. So he knows it's just your smell. And fuck it makes him feel creepy, but he's thankful every time you hug him and he gets a moment to take in that smell. Now, as always, he's fighting with himself to not get hard.

Your sighs become deeper as he continues to rub, and he reaches his hand under your shirt, testing the waters. You sigh blissfully at the skin to skin contact, his hand making your skin feel alive. As he keeps rubbing your head falls back, your body going nearly slack at how good it feels. You don't even realize for a moment but you've started moving your hips, rubbing yourself up and down his thigh that sits in between your legs. Your breath deepens and Yunho can't believe what he's seeing, his head swimming with desire as he watches your face, hears your soft sounds. A surge of pride washes through him at seeing how good you are feeling. "Baby," the word slips out of his mouth and you open your eyes, met with his large pupils and full pink lips.

"Kiss me," you whisper, opening your lips to let him in. He doesn't hesitate a moment, and suddenly your met with plush softness and his warm tongue as it brushes ever so slightly across yours. The feeling is intoxicating, igniting something in you that you hadn't felt in a long time. Your buck your hips against his leg harder, almost painfully, but it feels necessary. Your pussy is throbbing harder now, harder than you thought was really possible for you. You deepen the kiss, opening your mouth wider and sliding your tongue over his, moaning at the way it makes your clit feel. You need more, need something inside you soothing the aching muscles of your cunt, but you don't want to break the perfection of the kiss. You break away for a second, whimpering and throwing your head back in pained bliss. When your lips make contact again your hands are under his shirt and grabbing onto him, desperation dictating your every move.

"Please, can I touch you? Can I make you feel better?" he's asking, and his voice feels so good in your ear it's almost like you're on another planet.

"I'm bloody," you cry softly, the reality of the situation still not entirely escaping you.

"You really think I care about that?" he asks you, his hand coming up to brush along your cheek. You look at him with pleading eyes, wanting nothing more than to let him take care of you. Another wave of pain strikes through you and you whimper, grabbing your side again. Yunho brushes over it, kissing you gently on the cheek. More tears form in your eyes, the pain not subsiding this time. You begin to cry, your body shaking as you do. You don't know what else to do.

"Please help me," you plead out, still shaking.

"Where do you want me to touch you?" he asks, moving his hand down, now rubbing over your hip and upper thigh. The closer his hand gets to your core the more needy you feel, and you whine and buck your hips into him instead of responding.

"Baby please use your words, I don't want to hurt you," Yunho begs you, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Inside, please. But be gentle, the muscles are so tight," you say with a pout, making Yunho's head spin.

"Wait a sec," he says, moving off your bed to grab a towel from his bag. He places it down next to you and then begins removing your shorts and panties, one at a time. He's slow and steady in his movements, which makes it feel all the more intimate. Once they are off he gently moves you onto the towel and then slowly spreads your legs, massaging your thighs as the muscles there are tight as well. Your short frame dwarfed in his hoodie is maybe the cutest thing he's ever seen, and the look of desperation on your face is maybe the hottest.

"Are you ready?" he asks, his voice low and his hands oh so close to where you need them. You nod, spreading your legs even more in an invitation. Slowly he makes his way up, gently brushing his hand over your exposed lips, hoping not to shock you with the contact. Once you've settled into his touch he finally starts circling your entrance, making you mewl in anticipation. He sinks one finger in and immediately you groan in relief, already feeling so full. He can't believe how tight you are, can't believe that only one finger can fit. He begins moving slowly, as gently as he can, stroking up and down and finding that spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back. Your body immediately starts feeling better, the muscles in your core finally having something to squeeze onto. Your pussy feels warm and perfect and he desperately wants to see you come undone, on his fingers, on his cock. As you relax into his touch he feels your walls finally open up a bit, and slowly he pulls back, this time pushing two fingers in.

The wave of pleasure is instant, filling your low belly with sparkly warmth. You begin to rock yourself onto his fingers too, desperate for a bit more. He starts moving with a bit more force, still holding back and scared to hurt you. It's just the right amount of speed and pressure and you find your mind drifting, everything around you feeling warm and tingly and soft. You don't pay attention to your sounds; you don't care. Finally after your terrible day of pain he's taking care of you, and you just relax and let your body take control. Your high is building, oh so slowly. You can feel it in your legs all the way to your toes, the sparklers dancing down your body. Yunho's own breathing deepens as you start to moan, his body reacting to your sounds of pleasure. He needs desperately to make you come, to make you feel good. But he can feel your body resisting, ever so slightly.

"Baby, relax, relax if you can," he coos down at you, stroking his free hand over your thigh muscles that still feel tight. "Just focus on what feels good."

Your mind goes to his long fingers, to how deep they are inside you, how perfect they feel. The pressure in the perfect spots, making your entire body loose and happy. Suddenly he moves his free hand up, his thumb stroking gently over your clit. You moan loudly, all of your muscles finally releasing, and suddenly the feeling builds out of nowhere, from your fingertips and your toes and the top of your head, surging towards your center. You come, gently at first and then harder as Yunho continued to stroke you, intense pleasure rolling over you. It takes a long time for you to fully ride it out, your whole body processing what just happened. Finally your head feels clear and settled, your body no longer achey.

In the moonlight Yunho cleans you up, kissing you and whispering, 'I'll be right back.' After cleaning his hand and helping you back into your panties and shorts, he wraps himself around you, kissing your cheek and your exposed neck and relishing the relaxed state of your body. You are out before you know it, his warmth sedating.

***

A light storm rolled over the mountain in the night, covering the sky in gentle clouds. Without the brightness of the sun to wake you, you and Yunho both slept in, your bodies wanting nothing other than rest and each other's company. In the later hours of the morning Seonghwa became concerned, worried that you weren't doing well. When you left dinner early the night before he worried too, but when Yunho checked on you and returned assuring him that you were fine, he had let it go. He never wanted you to feel bothered, like he was keeping too close of an eye on you. You were your own person and capable of asking for what you needed. He knew that.

But when the time reached 11am he couldn't stop himself. It was just weird, given how early you had gone to bed, and the fact that you were normally an early riser. Gently he opened the door to the library, feeling mildly awkward. He wasn't sure what he would be greeted with, thought he did have a few ideas. He shook his head trying to brush his suspicions away. He knew if they were really true, you both would have told him.

"Y/n," he called from the open door, not seeing Yunho on the couch. Your body was hidden by the nook in the wall you slept in, forcing him to walk more into the room. You groaned at the sound, coming up from such a deep state of sleep. You didn't realize where you were, didn't realize Yunho was still cuddling you. As you went to stretch you accidentally hit him, waking him up with a jolt.

"Fuck, sorry," you said in a groggy voice, laughing. He instantly wrapped around you tightly, his mind not totally awake. As he squeezed you tight you let out a squeak, not expecting it. Neither of you realized Seonghwa was right there.

"So I'm guessing you're both okay?" Seonghwa said, and your brain finally registered it. You looked up at him in shock, feeling suddenly exposed. You nodded, trying not to be awkward. What did it matter really, that Yunho was sleeping in the same bed as you?

"I'm feeling better," you replied. "Got a lot of sleep."

"Sure," Seonghwa chuckled, looking between the two of you.

"Hwa! Go away!" you retorted, playfully rolling your eyes at him. Yunho remained uncharacteristically quiet behind you, but his arms didn't leave you for a second.

"Okay I will. Just glad you're alive," he chuckled again, making his way out of the room.

You shoved your face in your pillow, pushing yourself back further into Yunho's embrace.

You definitely had some explaining to do.

[bamfkeeper]

Pregnancy

RQ: 'Hi! Hope you’re having a good day! I Saw your requests were open! Would I be able to get some headcannons for Kurt as a father/with a pregnant reader? If not that’s perfectly fine!' - @cherri-leaf

Warnings: Kurt x f!reader, pregnancy topics, birth and baby themes

A/N: This is not helping my baby fever. Do I care? Nope. Soo happy to get one of these, I love writing things like this. Ignore any grammar errors bitte und danke.

Kurt would be the best father to be. When he found out you were pregnant, he was completely overjoyed.

He would absolutely do everything in his power to make sure that you are comfortable and happy throughout your pregnancy. He can hardly wait, and he'd want you completely stress-free during.

Kurt would always ask what he can do to help, he wouldn't want you bending over or lifting anything.

Kurt is an excellent cook, so he'd be cooking a lot of your meals. He doesn't want to control you, but he only wants you to be eating the best foods he can get you. And cooking it himself, he knows exactly what is going in your body and feeding your baby.

His German heritage comes out more, he likes to feed you typical German meals, most of which are high in protein and good for your body. Lot of meat and potatoes, and lots of fruits and veggies.

He does let you have desserts too, he makes them himself though. Or if you want to bake with him that's obviously okay! He loves to bake, as long as you don't get too tired with your belly.

He loves massaging you, knowing how laborious and exhausting pregnancy can be. He always tries his best to massage parts that hurt. Kurt massages your legs, ankles, feet, back. He also tenderly will massage your breasts, it's good for milk production and to help the tissue as your milk comes in.

One of his favorite things is to sit down and lay his head beside your belly. He loves listening to your little one most around, gently rubbing over it and speaking to it. He talks in German to your little one, speaking soft and sweet, laying kisses all over your stomach.

Kurt does a ton of research on pregnancy too. Before you are even pregnant and you're both trying, he reads books and watches videos of pregnancy and what it does to your body, getting as much information as possible about it. He wants to know what he can do to take the best care of you. Plus he wants to understand what's happening to the love of his life.

Some of it makes him cringe, and he frowns seeing how your internal organs shift, or all the symptoms and mental strain pregnancy causes. "Liebe...I will do everything I can to help you. It is scary, but I will be right here." he reassures, even if you have no worries about it.

Does he go nuts over the nursery? YES. Circus themed, naturally. Without the bad parts of his youth of course. Lots of fun colors, circus stuffies, (elephants, zebras, lions, tigers, bears, oh my!), and he absolutely paints it with you.

He also loves to shower you with gifts during your pregnancy, some for the baby, but some for you too. He always makes sure your friends know what you need when the baby showers comes along.

Baby clothes shopping? He goes nuts. "Liebe, bitte, bitte our little one has to have lederhosen! Bitte!" he begs and pleads with you, and you can't resist for long.

He makes a lot of jokes when your baby moves around a lot. "Heh, takin' after me already? Mein Gott...a little acrobat you are..." he coos to your belly, "Careful now, little one, you're gonna hurt your mama." he kisses your belly where the baby seems to be doing summer saults.

Kurt does really well with your hormonal changes too. He understands, sometimes you get impatient or lose your temper, never at him, but things are so overwhelming and stressful sometimes. You get frustrated with your self esteem or the fact that standing up is always a struggle. He calms you down, helping you ground yourself. "What do you need, schatz...anything. Food, space, love?" he questions, wanting to ensure you are okay.

When you go into labor, he tries his best to stay calm but...he can't help it. He freaks out. He rushes to you, no teleporting, it makes you too dizzy. He helps you to Beast's lab, no hospitals, he heard about how they treated Madelyne, he didn't want to deal with that.

You feel better surrounded by friendly faces anyway.

Of course it's just him in the room when you do give birth, he talks you through, telling you how good you're doing...how close you are, to breathe, etc.

He is so worried, giving you lots of love and making sure you're doing okay above all else.

When your little one arrives, he is in complete awe. Imagine how you want the baby to look ofc, but come on...it's gotta be a little blue!

It is such a sweet bundle of joy, it doesn't cry more than necessary when it's first born, and you hold your baby as it's placed on you. Kurt doesn't care if it is a boy or girl, that is his little one and he will cherish it with you.

Kurt respects the motherly bonding, so he steps back and lets you hold and be the first one to cuddle and kiss, and of course warm the baby with your skin. It's a sight he won't forget.

Ideally, he'd like to name the baby a German name, but he of course talks with you if you have any cultural or personal preference. You both come to a conclusion on what to name your new baby.

He's the best after too. He does everything he can while you recover with the baby, and helps wherever is needed. He helps if you nurse, he cleans and cooks still, makes sure you have hot showers ready, anything you could imagine.

You know you and your baby will be forever and always be loved by your adorning blue teleporter ~

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

Dividers by @/adornedwithlight