#i took an ibuprofen and a shower so i feel much better now

[girlboysollux]

augh

[j0hnj4ej3n]

nct dream taking care of you when you're sick

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: mentions of food, not eating well, vomiting, fainting, covid and a pregnancy scare, let me know if i missed out anything  

Notes: hello everyone! i’m back from my family holiday and will be posting more now~ here’s a little something for you all hehe <3 hope you all enjoy reading it!! if any of you have any requests, do feel free to send them in, till next time, have a wonderful week ahead everyone <3

𔘓Mark:

When Mark finds you curled up under your blanket on the couch when he gets home, he’s already worried. Because one, you’re usually excited to engulf him in a hug and two, it’s summer and he’s sweating from the short walk back from the bus stop but you’re wrapped up like a burrito, unmoving and pale. “Babe? You okay?” Mark comes to sit by you, instinctively pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. “Dude, you’re burning…” “I’m fine Mark, just need to rest,” you mumble out. You’re sleepy and cold and finally comfortable on the couch after feeling unwell all afternoon. You’ve been really busy recently, with classes and your part-time job and it seems your body is finally breaking from your packed schedules and lack of sleep. “You’re running a fever babe, come on,” Mark says as he lifts you up bridal style, together with your blanket still wrapped around you into your shared bedroom. He tucks you in properly, making sure the room isn’t too cold for you and even filled a jug of water and placed it beside you on the nightstand along with your cup. Mark digs through the box of medicine you two have in the kitchen cabinet and rushes to offer you ibuprofen for your fever. “I’ll go shower, be right back okay?” Mark tells you as he leans in to give you a kiss, but you’re quick to put your hand over his mouth, gently pushing his face away from yours. “Don’t, I’m sick. You can’t afford to be sick,” you say as Mark pulls your hand away from his face, holding it in his instead. “Don’t care,” he mutters out before swiftly stealing a peck, earning a frown from you. He only chuckles as he pulls the blanket up to make sure you’re properly tucked in. “Don’t worry about me babe, I’m a lot stronger than you think,” Mark tells you almost smugly, hitting his chest twice before flexing an arm to prove his point. “Shut up smelly, go shower already…” you jokingly nagged as you laughed weakly. And even though Mark was really busy himself, he stayed by your side as much as he could. Studying beside you while you rested, running out to get takeout for the both of you. He makes sure you’re drinking enough water and taking your medicine regularly. At night, Mark doesn’t let himself sleep before you do until your fever is finally gone and you’re almost recovered. And he was right, despite sticking right by you while you were sick, juggling his part-time internship and classes, Mark was still holding up well. In this time, you couldn’t help but be grateful for your lovely boyfriend who took care of you dutifully despite his own busy schedules and you wondered if you could love anyone more than you love Mark Lee.

𔘓Renjun:

You stir awake as you feel someone slightly shaking you. You slowly open your eyes to meet your boyfriend’s kind ones, they’re laced with both worry and adoration. “I made you some tea, it’s supposed to be good for your throat. Drink it while it’s hot.” Renjun tells you as he helps you sit up, holding the cup against your lips as you take small sips of the warm tea. “Thanks love,” you whisper out as much as you can since your voice is still strained, your sore throat preventing you from speaking at your normal volume. Renjun offers you a small smile, brushing your hair out of your face, “Did you sleep well my love? Feeling better?” “Mm, just a little better.” Renjun frowns slightly at that, he puts the tea on the bedside table and pulls you up slowly so you could go wash up for breakfast. While you’re beginning to brush your teeth, Renjun stands behind you, gathering your hair together before tying it up into a ponytail so you can clean up without your hair getting in the way. He places a soft kiss on your shoulder before leaving to heat up your breakfast. He doesn’t close the toilet door on the way out, afraid you’ll have another fainting spell since you are still recovering. You think your immune system hates you because once you’re even just a little unwell, you would get fainting spells but Renjun has gotten used to it and is always so alert. It makes you feel bad because he’d get so worried but you also feel so safe and thankful because you know Renjun would be there to catch you if you fall, quite literally. “Here, I made some soup, it should be easier for you to swallow,” Renjun tells you once you come out from the toilet. You haven’t been eating well since your throat hurts so much so Renjun has been sweet enough to cook or buy soft foods to make sure you still get enough nutrients. He joins you at the dining table, though he’s just eating bread with jam. Renjun looks at you as you take your first sip, chewing his bread while looking at you with expectant eyes. You sigh as flavours explode in your mouth, warmth spreads down to your chest as you swallow. “It’s so good,” you tell him and a proud, tight-lipped smile appears on Renjun’s pretty face, “Thank god, eat up then.”

𔘓Jeno:

You were never someone who had a big appetite, so when you fall sick you practically have no desire to eat anything. It’s really bad, you know but you can’t stomach too much food in fear that you might throw up. All you want to do when you’re sick is sleep all day. But Jeno can’t bear seeing you being sick and not eating or drinking enough, so he takes it upon himself to try and get you to eat even just a little. So now the two of you are on the couch, you’re wearing a hoodie (jeno’s hoodie) and pouting while curled up beside him, hugging your knees to your chest. Jeno’s holding a bowl of porridge in his hand and a spoon in the other, gently blowing the porridge that’s on it. “Aaa,” Jeno says as he moves the spoon to your lips. You look at him, eyes round and almost glistening with tears, “Jeno… I can’t, not hungry.” Jeno sighs, looking at the bowl and then back at you before he says, “You didn’t even eat much baby, you need to eat…” You feel miserable, your head is pounding and even with the hoodie on, you’re still cold. Everything is tasteless and you really don’t feel like eating. But you also know that Jeno’s right and you just feel bad because he’s trying to take such good care of you. “Just two more mouths? Just two and we’re done,” Jeno says as he smiles at you, wiggling the spoon in front of you. Okay, you thought to yourself, you could do two more. Jeno just wants you to be well, he knows it’s not like you asked to be sick so he’s willing to do whatever to get you well again. Whatever you need, he’s ready to do it just for you if it means you’ll feel better physically and emotionally. You slowly open your mouth and Jeno pushes the spoon gently into your mouth. He scoops up some more porridge, remembering to make sure there’s some minced meat on the spoon too before he blows on it. And after you finish the last bite, Jeno gets up to do the dishes, not before he pats your head, cooing out a “Good job~” at you for the last two bites you managed to eat. Jeno returns after doing the dishes to see you nodding off on the couch. So he joins you, pulling you to lie on top of him as he runs his fingers through your hair, soothing you into a deep sleep.

𔘓Haechan:

“Oh shit!” was the only thing Haechan managed to say when he saw the way you were hunched over the toilet bowl, throwing up. He rushed to hold your hair back, firmly rubbing your back as you were calming down after throwing up your lunch. You’ve been nauseous all morning and after eating lunch, your stomach started churning. You wondered if it was the sashimi you had last night that was making you feel funny. Haechan passes you some tissue to wipe your mouth with after you rinsed it, bending down to look at you, gently brushing your hair out of your face. “Are you okay? Still feeling nauseous?” he asked timidly and you nod. You wanted to ask him if he was feeling fine since you both had the sashimi together, or maybe you just had a weaker stomach. But before you open your mouth to ask, Haechan blurts out, “You’re not pregnant, are you?” The two of you look each other dead in the eye for two seconds before you burst out laughing. “W-what? Baby, I’m serious,” Haechan says as he tugs your arm to get you to stop laughing, “My period just ended like two days ago, so we haven’t done anything recently. Plus, we always use protection anyway.” “It’s not 100% though…” “Don’t worry babe, you’re not going to be a dad that soon.” Haechan scoffs at that but you can tell he’s not convinced. “I’ll take a test to be sure if you want,” you suggested but Haechan shakes his head. “It’s fine, but if you puke again I’m taking you to the doctor,” he tells you as he holds your face, looking at you worriedly. You were fine for a while but you do puke again, your throat burns and your stomach hurts. So Haechan rushes to take you to the nearest clinic. You were right about the sashimi, it was food poisoning but Haechan was fine so you guess your digestive system doesn’t really accept raw food too well. “I told you I wasn’t pregnant babe”, “Damn, why am I kind of disappointed though?” “Shut up, you wouldn’t know what to do if I was”, “Of course I would, we’d get married and have a family together. I mean, sure, it’s a little early but I’d be so ready babe.” All week, Haechan made sure you remember to stay hydrated since you did continue to throw up a few more times. He would cook food that was more kind to your stomach and set alarms so you two would remember it’s time to eat your medicine. Thanks to Haechan, you were still able to laugh even in your miserable state and got well really quickly. And you wouldn’t tell him, but you think you fell more in love with him knowing that he had already thought of a future that had you in it.

𔘓Jaemin:

You’re finally done with your shift at the cafe and you’re ready to close up for the day. You’re tired and you’ve been having the worst headache since your classes ended. You soldiered through your evening shift despite that but now you’re feeling even worse. You’ve been pushing yourself to work almost every day after classes for some income, so you can pay rent on time without depending on your parents. But as finals draw near, your stress is through the roof. You haven’t been eating or sleeping well and you think it’s finally taking a toll on your body. You’re taking your apron off when you hear the bell from the cafe door ring, “So sorry, we’re close-” “I know, I’m here to pick my lovely girlfriend up from work~” Jaemin stands in front of you, adorning the prettiest smile on his face. And you instantly relax, smiling back at him. “Hi honey, ready to go?” “Yeah, just give me a minute”. You tell him as you rush to the back to get your bag and turn off most of the lights. You rush back out to meet Jaemin when your vision starts to blur, you stop in your tracks as your hand reaches out to hold anything to keep you steady. You try to stay standing as your surroundings start to swirl, your vision blurry and dark. Jaemin is quick to react, rushing to you. “Baby? Y/N, what’s wrong?” Jaemin calls out, he holds you by your waist with one arm as the other comes up to hold your face. He looks into your eyes, his own laced with concern and he can tell you’re kind of blacking out. You blink hard a few times, holding onto his arm as your vision slowly clears. “Are you okay? Have you eaten anything?” Jaemin asks worriedly. You shake your head slightly, trying not to trigger another near fainting spell. “Been having the worst headache and I haven’t had the time to eat after class today…” “Y/N, how many times have I told you? You have to eat no matter what.” You can’t even look at Jaemin because you feel bad that he has to nag at you constantly for something as simple as having your meals on time. Jaemin sighs and brings his hand up to hold your face, tilting your head upwards so you’re looking at him. “You had a long day, let’s go home hm? I’ll cook you something yummy,” Jaemin says in a whisper just loud enough for you to hear. And you nod, closing your eyes as you lean into his touch. He lets go of your face and engulfs you in a hug, you let yourself melt against him. When you’re with Jaemin like this, for these few seconds every one of your burdens fade into nothing and even your head stops throbbing for a while. When you pull away Jaemin is smiling down at you like you’re the single, most precious person in this world. He carries your bag and slides his hand into yours, interlocking your fingers together. You get home and Jaemin feeds you a bowl of delicious beef noodles, nagging once again about how you need to stop skipping your meals. And he goes on, endearingly. “You have to sleep earlier too, go to bed when I do for a week straight. That should fix your sleep… AND if you have a busy school day, don’t put your availability down for work. Just rest at home for a bit this week. You’re always making me worried about you baby, what do I do with you?” “Alright alright, I got it…” “I love you y/n, I just want you to be well and healthy and happy. We have to grow old together, you know?” Jaemin says as he looks at you, eyes sparkly with a slight pout on his face. You pinch his cheek, “I got it babe, I love you too”.

𔘓Chenle:

You’ve been lying in bed all afternoon, you feel cold and you’ve been sneezing and coughing non-stop. You were afraid that you caught covid again but your self-testing kit says otherwise. You put on some soothing music and tried to take another nap. That’s when you hear your front door open, Chenle is back from his basketball class. “Hey babe,” he greets when he enters your shared room but when he sees you all curled up on the bed, he does a double take. “Hi Chenle,” “What’s up with you? You feeling okay?” “No… I feel like shit.” Chenle chuckles at that as he walks up to you, ruffling your hair. “Do you want to go to the doctor? I’ll take you.” You shake your head as you look up at him, “Can you go wash up, then come cuddle with me?” Chenle frowns and says without hesitation, “But you’re sick, what if I catch what you have?” With that, you frown too. “You’re the worst…” Chenle laughs at your expression, “I’m just kidding.” Even at a time like this, there is no escape from your boyfriend’s teasing. He goes to shower and comes back out within 10 minutes, adorning another basketball jersey with his towel around his shoulders. “Have you eaten anything all day?” “No, I’ve just been laying here.” “You’re not hungry?” “I am…” “Why didn’t you text me to get something back?” “I was resting!” You raise your voice a little which causes you to cough. “Okay, chill. I’ll go make you something, after you eat then we can cuddle.” You look at him with your puppy eyes, purposefully exaggerating, “You’re the best~” “Shut up, don’t look at me like that! That was not what you said just now anyway.” And even though Chenle just made you some porridge and bok choy, you were really grateful. It was simple, homey food but you love whatever Chenle cooks so even though you’re still feeling under the weather and it’s a little hard to eat, you finish all your porridge. After Chenle does the dishes, he joins you back in bed and cuddles you as promised. You still feel sick but for some reason, with Chenle around you feel a little better. In the few days that you took to recover, Chenle calls his mum to ask for a herbal soup recipe and makes it for you until you feel better again. On the fourth day, you’re fully recovered but when you woke up, Chenle was shivering beside you even though he had practically snatched the whole blanket and wrapped it around himself. “You okay babe?” “Feel funny, it’s so cold.” Chenle got sick, turns out he did catch the flu from you. You feel so bad, “I’m so sorry… you actually got sick taking care of me…” “Don’t be silly babe, I'll be fine.” So you do your best to take care of him too and nurse him back to health like he did for you.

𔘓Jisung:

“Are you feeling better baby?” Jisung asks you when you wake up from your nap and you shake your head. He sighs and pats your head. After you texted him saying you’re having a fever last night, he came over early this morning to come take care of you. Jisung even got you breakfast, but you didn’t eat much, which Jisung understands. You went back to sleep shortly after and Jisung went out to the pharmacy to get you some ibuprofen and vitamin C drinks for your immune system. Jisung doesn’t let you move an inch until you feel better even though you are fully capable of doing minor tasks yourself. He’s always going, “No, don’t worry about that. I’ll do it.” “Just stay in bed baby, I’ll help you.” And he’s making sure you eat well and drink enough water. He stays by your side all day and night, keeping you company and making sure you have everything you need. Even after you finally get up to shower, Jisung blows your hair for you. “Tell me if it’s too hot,” Jisung says before he blows dry your hair. After that, he combs your hair for you and it makes you feel so sleepy. “Tired?” “Yes… I’m sorry Ji, I’ve just been sleeping all day…” You apologise, feeling bad that he’s over at your place and you can’t spend any proper quality time with him since you’re feeling unwell. And that he’s been running around doing everything for you. Jisung shakes his head, frowning just a little. “Why are you sorry? You’re not feeling well, it’s not your fault. You need rest so you can recover quickly,” Jisung tells you as he smooths your hair down, patting the top of your head before he begins to tuck you into bed. “Will you stay the night?” You ask him timidly, he hums in reply. “I’ll stay with you until you feel better, baby. I’ll be right here when you wake up tomorrow, don’t worry.”

[arctichotch]

hey, i saw your send request post, currently im not feeling well so can you write captain john price taking care of sick reader? also they have some cuddles, just a very fluffy fic! thank you!! :D

hey, hope you feel better soon!

(i haven't written anything in donkey's years so excuse the potential mess below)

pairing: john price x gn!reader

warnings: sickening FLUFF, sick stuff nothing gross though, short and sweet

whilst you're here check out my character list and feel free to send me more requests

You felt like your insides were on fire. That your brain was knocking on the backs of your eyes trying to bust out of the confines of your skull. You felt like a sweaty mess and judging by the looks of sympathy you got from your colleagues walking out of your office after your boss sent you home, you looked like one too.

The journey home was a total blur and you nearly collapsed onto your couch the second you got through the door, only just having enough energy to kick off your shoes. You heard the shrill ringing and buzzing of your phone dumped by the door but there was not a single part of you that felt you could go get it.

Your eyes slipped closed, and that was that. One final thought before you fell to sleep - John will not be happy that you went to work feeling unwell this morning...

-

The bang of your apartment door closing woke you suddenly.

Oh shit, you are definitely not in any position to even think of some of the self-defence John taught you, let alone using it.

Luckily, you heard one of your favourite sounds (although as much as the sound was appreciated, it still made your head throb.)

"Love, I'm home."

Shit, he was home. You had a vague remembrance of him letting you know he'd be home from his month long mission and having told him you'd take him out, treat him to dinner.

So much for those plans.

"M'here," You grumbled from your place on the couch. John rounded the couch into the living room turning on the lights, making you squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to alleviate the pounding in your head. "Think m'sick."

"You look sick, yeah. This why you didn't pick up your phone, was calling you. Got worried, love." He knelt down beside you, his knees groaning at the movement.

"You shouldn't kneel like that, you'll hurt yourself, old man."

"Oi, watch it, cheeky." He placed his always freezing cold hand on your forehead. "Could fry an egg on that head of yours. Have you taken anything?"

You shook your head, burying your head into the pillow. "Okay, I'll go get some ibuprofen to try get your temperature down, then I'll get you something to eat. I assume you've not eaten anything, right?"

"Hmphh."

"What would you do without me, eh? Just wither away from the common cold." He chuckled as he moved towards the kitchen.

After he had loaded you up with ibuprofen, some toast and a whole lot of water, he set you up on the couch all tucked up with blankets and the TV loaded up with Netflix, while he took a shower (only allowed to leave after he had promised you with cuddles after he was done.)

When he came out you immediately commandeered him and his attention, snuggling up practically on top of him while watching your favourite show for the billionth time.

"I'm sorry that we couldn't do dinner. I promise this isn't just me trying to get out of paying."

He laughed, his big belly laugh that you miss every single day he is gone. "It's okay, love. I know you're really sick, poor baby."

"I feel gross and sick, and I don't want to make you sick but I really can't think of anything worse than you not being right here."

"I don't get sick, my immune system is undefeatable and you know it. You ever seen me sick, love?"

"There's always time, babe." You slipped your hand under his shirt resting it on his stomach, trying to leach some heat off him.

"You're shaking. You cold?" You nodded and he was quick to pull a blanket from the back of the couch to cover you both.

"I missed you, lots and lots." You said, just now feeling the relief of having him back safe with you.

"Missed you too, love. Hopefully got a few days off now, so I can nurse you back to health." He gave you a big sloppy kiss on your forehead, "I'll take my payment in kisses and cuddles, please. No other currency accepted."

You smiled looking up at him, "I'll see what I can work out."

[aleksa-sims]

RL Story

CW: addiction, serious illness

Totally done and still sad because I saw Daniel and this stupid girl today I came home after work. Nico wasn’t home yet. I was kind of relieved about that. I wasn't sure, if I should tell him? I mean, nothing happened, but what I said to Daniel today was just not ok! It was totally unfair and selfish.

As soon as I got home, I went for a walk with N.’s dog. Back home I took a shower & I lay down on the bed. I wasn’t feeling so well. I got serv pain in my right knee and my hands also hurt. It bothered me so much, that I had to take a painkiller. After that it slowly got better while I fell asleep.

A little later N. came home. I heard him come up to the bedroom and watch me sleep. Nico has an extraordinary talent for disturbing me while sleeping. No, tbh it's really cute. Every morning before he leaves the house, he comes back to the bedroom to me, while I’m mostly still sleeping. He kisses me and tells me quietly that he loves me. In the beginning I found it hard to get used to. It's annoying to be woken up by him in the morning (5.00 am!) just because he has to kiss me. Yk? It wasn’t until he was gone (abroad), that I realized how much I missed being woken up by him in the morning.🩷 But back to that day, it was not in the morning, but in the evening.

N. saw the painkillers I had taken next to me on the bed, thinking I was sick or something.

Nico: Hey babe.... Are you ok?

Me: M-hm... Yea, I'm ok.... Where were you? I missed you.

Nico: I said good-bye to Damien and the others. They’re going back to Italy tomorrow.

Me: Yea, without you.... You stay here, with me. So happy about that. Right now I need you with me. I've had a really, really bad day N.... And you? How is your new team? Are they nice?

Nico: Agh...well, what can I say? Germans, yk?🤷‍♀️😉 But it was ok and it’s nice to be home, not somewhere alone abroad ..... Did you see Dilek today?

Me: No, she’s sick. She stayed home.

Nico: Are you sick too? I see you’ve taken painkillers.

Me: My knee hurt again. Somehow my whole body hurts, my hands and legs... But I'm fine. 🙂

Nico: You should tell your doc. You are pregnant. Maybe it has something to do with it?

Me: Yea, but don't worry. I know this pain. It's nothing. I’ve had this pain since I was a kid. It comes and goes, but it’s not serious. My muscles and bones are just very sensitive to pain. 🫤

Nico: It’s all right, babe. But if I see you get pain again, I’ll take you to your doc. I don’t want to scare you, you know that! But you don’t hurt for no reason. Sure, it's nothing, but it’s better to get it checked out before you need to take painkillers again.

Me: Chill Nico!! I know you’re afraid I might get addicted to painkillers . But c'mon, N.! It's just ibuprofen. 😄🤷‍♀️My pill addiction is past. I know I was difficult for you back then, but I promise, this won’t happen anymore. Love you.

Nico didn’t worry about my pill addiction, but actually about the pain I had. A few days ago, my knee hurt so badly that I could not walk. I even cried. But after I took a painkiller, it stopped again. That pain I had in my muscles and bones will get really bad after delivery. Not immediately after delivery, a few months later. But I do not want to draw too much attention to this issue now. Later, when the time comes, I will explain this in more detail. These were the first symptoms of a serious illness. Since CML is not so easy to diagnose, it will take a while for me to get the diagnosis.

And about Daniel I didn't tell Nico. I was happy with N. and we’re about to have a Baby, so I decided to somehow forget Daniel and let him go. But something happened that night!😞 Daniel texted me at 1:00 a.m. I’ll see him tomorrow again. 😢

Previous/Next

[keekee-23]

Comfort

Y/N X Damian Priest Fluff Fanfiction

You had been feeling sick for days now. It started out with a slight sniffle that quickly turned into a fever, aching muscles and a heavy bout of coughing. You hadn’t been able to leave your bed since then, the illness sapping you of all your energy and making you feel completely drained.

Just as you were about to call your doctor, there was a knock at the door. You slowly made your way to answer it and was surprised to see your boyfriend, Damian Priest.

He was wearing a black leather jacket, white t-shirt, jeans, and had a bouquet of long-stemmed roses in one hand and a card in the other. He smiled at you and said, “Hey babe, I hope you feel better soon.”

You felt your heart swell with warmth. You were taken aback by Damian’s sweet gesture. Here he was, standing on your doorstep with an incredible get-well-soon gift. You thanked him and invited him inside. He stepped into your home and handed you the bouquet. You brought it to your nose and inhaled the delightful scent of the roses.

You set the bouquet down on the kitchen counter and opened the card. Inside, Damian had written a heartfelt message, wishing you a speedy recovery. He’d even included a few sweet encouragements and a joke about how you were “tougher than sickness.” You smiled, touched by Damian’s thoughtfulness.

You expressed your gratitude to him once more and embraced him firmly, then wondered what had brought him so far. You never imagined Damian would be here; after all, with his wrestling schedule, you knew he was a very busy man. "What are you doing here?" you asked.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay," Damian said. "You're important to me, and I don't like to see you feeling bad."

Damian leaned in and kissed you gently on the lips.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

"Not great," You replied, your voice still hoarse. "I think the fever is getting a bit better, though."

"That's good," Damian said, relief evident in his voice. "What can I do to help you? Is there anything you need?"

You shook your head. "No, I don't think so," you said. "But it's nice of you to come check on me. I really appreciate it."

Damian smiled and squeezed your hand gently.

"I'm always here for you," he said.

You smiled back. You knew he meant it. He had always been there for you, ever since you both first met a few months ago. He had been your rock, your strength, your confidante. You were so lucky to have him in your life.

He leaned in and kissed you again, his lips warm and comforting.

"Let me get you some medicine," he said. "You need to get better."

You nodded. You were too tired to argue, and you knew he was right.

Damian stood up and went into the bathroom, where he quickly found some ibuprofen and some cold medicine. He poured a glass of water and brought it back to you, along with the medication.

"Here you go," he said, handing you the glass and the pills.

You thanked him and took the pills, downing them quickly with the glass of water. You felt slightly better already.

"I'm going to take care of you," Damian said softly, his voice full of love and compassion.

For the next few hours, Damian stayed with you, taking care of you, and making sure you were comfortable. He was so sweet and loving, you could never ask for a better boyfriend.

When he finally left for the night, you felt a little sad. You were so used to having him around that you had almost forgotten what it was like to be sick and alone. But you also felt a sense of warmth and gratitude that he had gone out of his way to take care of you while you were feeling so terrible.

The next morning, you woke up feeling much better. You were still a little tired and your throat was still a little scratchy, but you were definitely feeling better.

You got up and went to take a shower, and when you came out, Damian was waiting for you in the living room. He had brought you breakfast — a cup of coffee, pancakes, and bacon.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said, laughing.

“I wanted to,” Damian said, smiling.

You were touched. You couldn’t believe how wonderful Damian was being. You hugged him tightly and kissed him.

“Thank you,” you said. “I love you.”

“I love you too baby,” Damian said, smiling.

He stayed for a few more hours, taking care of you until you were completely well. By the time he left, you felt like a new person. You had never felt so loved and cared for, and it filled you with joy.

You had never felt so grateful to have such a wonderful boyfriend. You were so lucky to have him, and you knew it.

[sarahrogersevans]

You’re More Important To Me- Sebastian Stan xreader fic

Summary: Y/N is sick and Sebastian stays home to take care of Y/N and comforts her

Warnings: a bit of angst and a lot of comfort fluff, mentions of being sick, not a lot of warnings

(Y/N’s POV)

I was starting to feel a bit under the weather the last few days but today I just felt worse and I went and took a hot shower to see if I’d feel better but I just felt like crap. I called up my boss and said “hi, so I’m sorry to do this but I have the flu and I’m gonna stay home today, I hope I can make up the hours later?” My boss said “I hope you feel better Y/N and don’t even worry take as much time as you need ok?” I loved my boss a lot and I said “ok I will thank you so much, bye.” I put my phone down and went to say goodbye to my boyfriend Sebastian before he left for work and I walked over to hug him and Sebastian noticed how I was feeling and said “hey darling you ok??” I didn’t wanna worry him so I said “yea I’m fine just need a hug before you go.” Sebastian felt my forehead and said “oooh Y/N you feel warm, let’s get you back in bed ok?” I nodded and Sebastian helped me into bed and he made sure I had enough of the blanket on me and kissed my forehead and said “now get some rest doll I’ll take care of you.”

I freaked out and said “wait what about your movie honey?? Don’t you need to go in to work today?” Seb shook his head after taking off his coat and said “no doll you’re more important to me Y/N I don’t wanna leave you knowing you’re not feeling well, I love you and I wanna do this.” I blushed and said “Aw thank you so much my love you’re amazing.” I still felt guilty inside knowing he’d miss a day of filming. Sebastian tucked me in a bit more then kissed my cheek and said “now close your eyes and I’ll go make you some ramen soup and I’ll come right back ok?”

(Sebastian’s POV)

Poor Y/N I hate seeing her feeling miserable, I don’t wanna leave her alone and I love taking care of her. I just made her some chicken ramen soup and put a few crackers in a bowl and put everything on a tray to bring to her. I walked into the bedroom and put the tray on her bedside table and kissed Y/N’s forehead and whispered “hey darling I made you your favorite soup and brought some crackers to go with it, wanna try and eat??” She sat up and looked at the soup and said “yea soup sounds really good, thank you Seb.” I sat down by Y/N and handed her the bowl carefully and said “careful it’s hot.” She sipped some of the soup on the spoon and said “yum! I love ramen it’s so good, I love when it’s hot.” I let her eat and then said “ok here sweetheart time to take some ibuprofen ok?” She took the medicine cup and drank the meds and I said “good girl.” then she handed me everything and said “thank you Sebastian that was such a good lunch.” I kissed her head and said “my pleasure doll, I’ll take everything into the kitchen and come back and we can cuddle ok?”

(Y/N’s POV)

I love my boyfriend he’s wonderful, he came back into our bedroom and got into bed next to me and opened his arms and said “come here sweetheart let’s cuddle.” I scooted over to Seb and laid on his chest and I felt the medicine start to kick in and I closed my eyes and I felt Sebastian pull me closer and he said “rest well sweet girl you’ll feel better I love you.”

Hey lovelies!! I’m back with another fic!! 😊♥️♥️ hope you all enjoy!! xx

Taglist:

@lokiandbuckysdoll

@jessybarnes

@sunshine-on-my-mind

@nana1000night

@peaches1958

@marvelstarker-mha98

@writersblog20

@delicatecoffeepeanut

@imyourbratzdoll

@chrisevansdaughter

[c0rpseductor]

holy shit life could be dream

i took my ibuprofens and then went for a shower, so my muscles don’t hurt anymore, and it was so amazing. i felt totally normal in there. i didn’t have to close my eyes or anything. i didn’t turn the light on but there was a ton of natural light. i might’ve been able to turn the light on with no issue if i wanted to.

my head feels a little odd again now that ive moved back into my room but i might be focusing on it too much. overall i think the rescue medicine is way better than just ibuprofen and coffee (my jank version of excedrin) and it’s good to take it with an otc painkiller.

i do think im just gonna rest anyway. it still tired me out to get the migraine, and i didn’t get enough sleep in the first place. but i don’t feel any of the Horrific Malaise or any real pain, just some mildly irritating touchy feeling in my eyebrow. so much better to feel like this than to have all the secondary migraine symptoms

hopefully i can take a preventative once i see a doctor. i also would like to try a different rescue med since there are non-triptan ones that don’t cause the muscle stiffness side effects. that’d be nice bc having to take a long hot shower for that every time isn’t very practical, it’s better to have something i could feasibly take and then like, go to my theoretical job, and i hear you’re supposed to rest after taking triptans anyway. but a preventative might render that less of an issue since hopefully i wouldnt be needing to take rescue meds on a regular basis

[candy0097]

Affliction

a/n:

GOSSHH so so sorry for the lack of posts I've been dealing with major writer's block and work has been taking up majority of my time as of late due to losing our team leader recently😪I've had this story in my drafts for EVER, hopefully yall can enjoy it though. apologies for it being so short(':

Affliction

something that causes pain or suffering.

Reader experiences a menstrual cycle !

You start your day with a rude awakening, your sleep being interrupted by a vicious headache, accompanied by probably the worst cramps you’ve ever had. You can only groan loudly as you roll over onto your side, folding up into a fetal position to alleviate as much pain as possible. You had a feeling having your ibuprofen always in your backpack for emergencies was a terrible idea, not being able to even get up to get the pain reliever out of your bag. You lie there helplessly, only now realizing that the shower to the connected bathroom was on and running, leading you to gain the knowledge that Austin had slipped out of bed and took a shower.

You continue to lay there in pain, silently rushing Austin in hopes that he’d grab your ibuprofen from your backpack. Once you hear the water finally shut off, a wave of relief hits you, only briefly though, considering you are still in excruciating pain. It felt like you were laying there for hours until Austin finally comes out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. He dries his hair with a towel as his eyes land on yours.

“Good morning baby, you sleep okay?”

You can only nod, eyes closed and arms hugging yourself tightly in pain.

“Can you please get my ibuprofen from my backpack?”

Your voice comes out hoarse, the worry on Austin’s face apparent once he realizes the situation.

“Yeah of course, are you feeling okay?”

He grabs your bag and digs his hand inside, grabbing the bottle and opening it. He pours a pill into his hand and hands it to you along with the water bottle you had on the bedside table.

“Yeah, I’m just in a lot of pain from cramps is all…”

He sighs, grabbing a shirt and pj pants, “Is there anything I can do to make it better?”

Downing the pill you shake your head,

“Just hold me please?”

He smiles, crawling into the bed next to you almost immediately. He pulls you into his chest gently, your face pushed into his neck. Taking in his scent, you actually start to feel better, a smile spreading across your face. You groan quietly, a sharp cramp spreading through your abdomen suddenly. Austin sighs, holding you tighter and rubbing your skin with a soft thumb slowly.

“You’re okay baby, I’m sorry you’re in so much pain”

He frowns, looking down at your face now hidden in his chest, a small, pained expression on your face. You can only hold him as tight in response, arms wrapping around his torso.

After a few minutes, your loosening grip around his body leads Austin to assume that you were either sleeping or about to fall asleep. A quick glance at your figure confirms his earlier suspicions, seeing your eyes shut and soft breaths coming from your partially agape mouth.

He smiles warmly, bringing you in impossibly closer to his chest as he kisses your forehead softly.

��Rest easy baby…I love you.”

[saintsofwarding]

EMBRYO

Chapter 12: Monster Box

Someone brought her a cup of tea. Rose sat with her hands around it, playing with the teabag, not drinking it. She didn't trust her hands not to shake and spill it everywhere upon lifting it to her mouth.

The room was bland, walls beige, the furniture comfortable but waiting-room featureless. Rose hunched on an armchair, dressed in BSAA sweats, her cuts and bruises bandaged. A stream of people had handled her before she'd been left in here- medics to tend her injuries and take a sample of her blood in case the Embryo's venom had affected her too, someone with paperwork for her to sign, a team in HAZMAT suits checking her over for biohazards, ushering her into a freezing-cold disinfectant shower, taking her soaked, bloodied clothes and bundling them off to parts unknown.

Someone else brought her a sandwich. It looked a little wilted, but looking at it had made her realize just how hungry she was, and she attacked it like a starving dog.

Now, she was clean and dry and dosed up on ibuprofen, but that hardly made her feel any better. She could hear the murmur of voices and footsteps from the hallway outside, though she was alone in the room, its door locked, its walls windowless.

There was a mirror, but Rose figured that was there purely for observational purposes. Without a clock or her phone, she couldn't tell how much time had passed- it might have been minutes or hours since Chris had left her in here with an assurance he'd be back as soon as he could, he just needed to make some calls.

He didn't tell her to not worry. Somewhere, past the anxiety chewing holes in her guts, Rose appreciated that.

She tried to sip at the tea, giving it a cautious sniff first. As far as she could tell there wasn't anything in it besides leaves and water. No sedatives or anything. The heat helped bring a little feeling back into her body, helped clear the haze in her head. She was exhausted, but she didn't want to sleep in case there was news.

In case...

"In case you wake up to someone shaking your shoulder, telling you your second daddy is dead," whispered a voice in Rose's ear. "What's the quote again? To lose one father is a tragedy...to lose both looks like carelessness..."

Rose lifted her eyes. Eveline stood on the far side of the room. The light flickered and hummed overhead, throwing the other girl's face into flashes of shadow, her eyes hooded in darkness so all Rose could see of them was a bright bird gleam.

"Go away," Rose told her. "You're not real."

"Just a voice in your head? A whisper in your dreams?" Eveline slunk back and forth, a grin curling over her small, pointed face. "I'm more than that, Rosemary-rue. I'm a part of you that's never ever gonna go away..."

"Okay, fine, you're a completely real manifestation of my past trauma. Our past trauma. Whatever. I'm still figuring all that gestalt shit out." She took a swig of her tea, hoping its caffeine would kick in soon.

"You just don't get it, do you?" Eveline said. "Heisey protected you all those years, but it could have been worse. So much worse. All the monsters out there, and the worst ones of all are right at your door."

Rose rubbed her forehead. "Leave me alone."

"You'll never get it." She could hear Eveline growing closer, closer, the room darkening around them as her mold spread over the walls, the floor, the lights, spores winking like stars in the muggy light. "You'll never be free. Not really. Not unless everyone's dead. Papa Heisey. Chris. Your mommy." She cackled. "Mommy, mommy, mommy. Looking for her lost little girl, deep in the forest, but she was stolen away by the monsters in the end..."

"Go away-"

"What will you do then, I wonder? How do you think this is gonna end if you don't take control of the situation now? You could do it now. The BSAA...Chris and all his toy soldiers...they're nothing to you. Not really. You could crawl inside them. Tell them what to do. Just like I did. Then nothing would stand in your way. Nothing could."

Closer, closer. Rose's hands tightened into fists on her knees.

"Even Heisenberg," Eveline whispered. "You did it before, so many years ago, stealing his powers away when he was being a bad boy. With him under your command...all that power...all that...mm...brawn..."

She gave a theatrical swoon, her hand trailing over her forehead. "Oooh, he's a splendid specimen, all right...what do you think he could do if he really cut loose? We could see, y'know. We could make him."

Her voice was right by Rose's ear, right inside her head. Rose sprang to her feet, flinging aside her tea.

"Go away!" she screamed, the sound raw and brutal, scraping real pain from deep inside her throat. "Go away! Get out!"

She stood, panting. Eveline was gone. The mold was gone, the fluorescents unobscured. Had it ever been there in the first place?

An echo of childlike laughter, then nothing at all.

The door opened. Rose spun with a gasp, lifting her hands on reflex, but it was just Chris. His brows were drawn together, his expression somber.

The world spun into stillness around Rose.

"No," she whispered. "Is-"

"He's fine," Chris said, quickly. Rose swayed where she stood as relief crashed over her, hard enough she barely caught his next words. "Relatively speaking. Whatever's in that thing's venom should have killed him five times over, but seems Karl Heisenberg is tougher than even we gave him credit for."

"That's right." Rose crossed her arms, then uncrossed them. Mistake. She'd look fidgety. But Chris wasn't looking at her with any kind of pity, just a heavy, searching intensity that made her more than a little uncomfortable.

"And so am I," she went on.

A worn smile crossed Chris's face. "Yeah, I know," he said. "You take after your dad."

He didn't mean Heisenberg. Rose felt her lower lip tremble. She looked down at the ground, then back up at him.

"Is Sam okay?" she asked.

"Sam?"

"The...the girl in our apartment." She blushed. "She was, um, tied to a chair."

Chris nodded. "Yeah, that was pretty memorable. Last I saw Samantha Torres was being taken with a protection detail to a hospital. She's okay. Freaked, but okay."

"Good," Rose said.

She chewed her lip, took a breath, stopped.

"Can I-" she began. No. The time for being a scared kid was over. "I want to see Heisenberg," she went on, strengthening her tone. "Take me to him. Now."

She wasn't fooling anyone, least of all Chris Redfield. Still, that surprising gentleness lingered. It should have looked out of place on a guy built and battered like him, but it didn't. It stayed as he nodded.

"Okay," he told her. "But after that- we need to talk."

***

The temporary BSAA facility looked like an ordinary warehouse building save for the guards posted at the doors, the rooms of computer monitors and spills of cables strung down narrow, dimly-lit industrial corridors. Chris walked her through the facility with his hand on her shoulder; guards shifted at their posts as she passed them by.

One commando in body armor reached out for Chris, his eyes cold on Rose, his other hand on his sidearm.

"Without a collar or cuffs, Redfield?" he muttered. "You got a death wish or something?"

"Guess so," Chris said, shouldering past him, pushing Rose lightly onward.

They took an elevator down, down, down, into a deeper sublevel buzzing with greenish light. Rose smelled chemicals down here, burning in her nose. The doors were windowless, and she and Chris passed by a lot before he at last stopped at a pair at the end of the hallway.

He swiped a keycard. The doors went chunk.

The room beyond was cold as a deep-freeze, a shadowy span of girdered ceiling and concrete pillars. In the center, on a dais, was a massive, circular glass tank, its interior lit to a blinding glare. Inside was a cot, now torn to pieces and mangled into a new, thrilling shape.

In the middle of the detritus, fiddling with the bits of plastic that had fastened the cot together, sat Heisenberg.

His coat was slung over one of the cot legs that stuck into the air; he'd been stripped to the waist, his beefy torso so heavily bandaged he looked like a mummy from one of the Hammer horror movies they'd rented every Halloween, to watch until the sun came up while getting sick on shitty dollar-store candy. The color was still drained from his skin, but he was alive. Alive, not a crystal sculpture.

Joy burst in Rose's chest, lightning coursing down her veins. She stopped before the glass, her heart pounding, staring in at him as he looked back at her.

"Hey, kid," Heisenberg said.

"I hope you didn't try to escape or anything."

"Nah." He tipped his head to the side to show another collar strapped around his neck, an auto-injector aimed for his jugular. Wires trailed down to a sensor taped to one hairy, scarred-up pec. "The nice lady in the white coat was kind enough to explain that this thing measures my Cadou's energy output. It goes too high..." He clicked his fingers. "Night-night."

"Inconvenient."

"Sure fuckin' is." He nodded at her. "You all right?"

"You're not mad at me?"

"'Course I am. You're grounded for a year. No allowance. And don't even think about asking for another fuckin' pony."

Rose snorted. "I didn't even ask you for the first pony."

She glanced back. Chris hung back at a distance, his arms crossed, his head down. He was giving them a moment, Rose realized.

She crept closer to the glass. Warmth pushed at her eyes; she felt the little tremble down in the pit of her stomach that meant she might lose it again, like on the riverbank. She swallowed back her tears and pressed her hand to the glass.

"How about you? Are you okay?" she whispered.

"Thanks to you."

"How did they-"

"Stuck me with some purple shit in a syringe." He waved his hand dismissively. "Figure it was some kind of mutagen accelerant, kick-started the Cadou's regenerative abilities, stopped my calcification in its tracks. Feel like a pit of corpses, but at least I'm not one of them."

He gave a raspy laugh as he levered, slowly, shakily, to his feet and limped over. "Hosed me down pretty good, too. Chemicals everywhere. Burns like a bitch. Reminds me of the time I fell into the factory runoff. Now that was interesting. I thought my face would melt off."

Rose reached up to swipe tears from her eyes before he could notice. "You almost died, you bastard," she spat.

He noticed. Of course he did. And, of course, he was gonna be an asshole about it. "Aww, and you're gonna cry about it?"

"What you were saying by the riverbank-"

"Not now." He cut her off. A beat, then he pressed his own hand to the glass, just over hers. Without his gloves on his hands looked strangely bare; he hardly ever went without them outside of the apartment, in front of anyone that wasn't her.

She wasn't sure why; she'd never asked. She'd never asked so much. Now, maybe- maybe- if they got through this- they could begin to talk. Not just evenings in front of the TV, sinking their attention in arguments and jabs and weird experiments and jovial evasions. No more of that. She wanted to know everything, not culled from his half-forgotten memories, but in his own words. About the village, about the other Lords. Everything Miranda had tried to take from them all.

His scarred fingers curled, as if to enclose hers in his grip.

"Not now," he repeated, his voice as close to gentle as she'd ever heard it. "Don't make me say it again."

Rose nodded. She sniffed. "Okay," she said. "Fine. But I'm not leaving just because you're shit with emotions and you're getting all uncomfortable."

"Fuck you-"

"You're gonna have to buy me more than a pony if you want me to ever be nice to you again."

"You got me tongue-fucked by a monster, you little-"

"You're gonna have to buy me a car," Rose said. "To start. And a nicer phone. And I want to go shopping and you're footing the bill. For everything-"

"Bold, kid! I'd admire your demands if I cared at all about them."

"If you say no I won't love you anymore."

"Hah!" Heisenberg roared. "No!"

Rose could barely stay on her feet as they argued back and forth. Love, she thought, like grief, was a dark room full of monsters. Years she could wander blindly, never meeting tooth nor claw, until all at once she was in their grip, their jaws locked in her flesh, never letting go.

She still didn't forgive him. She still wanted to sit him down, tie him to a chair if she had to, and have a long and uncomfortable conversation with him until he admitted, by force, everything he'd pigheadedly never say in other circumstances. She wanted to know. Everything. Everything. For now, though, she was just grateful he was here at all.

Maybe it would be better for her to never forgive Heisenberg, leave him to the mercy of the BSAA. Maybe they would be safer apart in the long run.

She didn't much care about what would be better, what would be safer. She'd take all the monsters in the world so long as he was one of them.

***

"What is this place, anyway?" she asked Chris as she retreated, at last, from the glass. Heisenberg stayed there, watching them both with glinting eyes. "You just happened to have a perfectly-sized box to put him in?"

"No." Chris let out a long breath. "This whole place was built to contain an entirely different bioweapon. The Embryo. Provided, of course, we got one alive."

"So it's really not yours."

He shook his head. "My squad's been tracking those things for weeks. Each one gets bigger. More powerful. Like with each incarnation it's learning."

"Yeah, I figured that out, too."

Chris gave a dry laugh. "You sure did."

They were heading down another green-lit corridor. Rose glanced behind her as more commandos fell into step behind them, anonymous in full black tactical suits and face visors, automatic rifles at a casual ready. One of them gave her a little salute. Rose frowned, then faced front again.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked. She thought they'd go to an interrogation room or something.

"It'll be easier to show you."

"You're not gonna lock me up, like Heisenberg?"

Chris's gait slowed.

"Rose," he said. "I was friends with your parents for more than three years. I first saw you right out of the hospital, saw the way Ethan and Mia looked at you. Like you were the only thing in the world that mattered to them. They were...good people. Your father was one of the best I ever knew. And now- to find you- after so many years..."

He gave his head another little shake.

"No, I'm not gonna lock you up," he said.

He picked up his pace again, pushing open a door and heading into a long, echoing stairwell. "BSAA's turning up the heat on me and my squad, as I'm sure you can tell from the warm welcome they gave you upstairs. They gave me seventy-two hours in Regent City to get this thing done and get you and Heisenberg in the bag."

Rose hurried after him. "So you know something about the Embryo?"

"Yeah."

"Who sent it? It and the-" She took a short breath. "The thing that looks like me."

"It's an Embryo, too." He held out his hand. In his palm gleamed a metal disc like the one she'd fished out of the blackened remains in the subway. "I found this in the wreckage at the hall of mirrors."

"How can...how can that thing become me?"

"Hm. Good question," Chris said. "Part one of my theory is there are two varieties. The scout and the hunter. Come on. Through here."

He shoved through a door with a pushbar and into a long, echoing space beyond. Rows of computers were set up on makeshift desks, servers whirring at the damp, cold air. This place must be underwater; Rose smelled a faint salinous tang in the air, heard a faint churning boom, like the impact of waves. Another smell hit her, too, a moment later. Something burnt, like charcoal briquettes, overlaying the sting of acid.

Chris flicked a switch. Fluorescent lights powered on with a hum, illuminating the transparent tent set up over a table in the middle of the room. On it, arrayed like an autopsy, was the corpse of the Embryo Rose had hit with the subway train.

"Here," he told Rose, thrusting a full-body orange HAZMAT suit and pair of booties at her. "The acid can still burn your eyes real bad, and we're still studying the effects of its ash on human lungs."

She began struggling into the too-big suit. "It's not still alive, is it?"

"No cell regeneration. Seems the combination of electricity and train was enough to cook this one golden-brown." He'd suited up faster than her and helped her do up the back zipper, securing the velcro tabs around the helmet with deft movements. He unzipped the tent and held the flap open for Rose to duck through.

They emerged into the tent proper. Rose's breathing hissed, reflected back at her. She approached the table, examining with wide eyes the charred, glutinous flesh, the remnants of a cartilaginous internal structure, the half-decomposed mouth tentacles, pale and limp, like ropes of overcooked spaghetti. It looked even bigger here than it had in the subway, a gorilla-like body structure armored with plates of crystalline bone, the gelatinous sac that had once hung down from its belly now burst and deflated.

She thought of Mara in the bathroom, her relief when Rose had come back to save her. If only she'd been faster.

If only she'd gotten this thing before it got to her, Mara might still be alive.

"You know who made this thing, don't you?" she asked, quietly.

Chris nodded behind the clear visor of his suit. "They call themselves Ouroboros. The snake that eats its own tail, and lives again, and again. They've been a shadow in my radar, a reoccurring name in the books of dozens of bioterrorists I've taken down over the last ten years. They make monsters, bioweapons sold to the highest bidder to unleash as they see fit. Worse, they're smart. They never leave traces, never stay too long in one place. I've raided labs I know were theirs only to find empty rooms scrubbed clean. They never let their monsters out in the open. Until now."

"What changed?" Rose said.

Chris turned and met her eyes.

"You," he said. "I had the blood tested that we drew from you a couple hours ago and compared it to the Embryo. Rose..."

She stared at him in turn. "Tell me."

"It was a match, Rose. These things- all of them- are made from a base of your DNA." He paused. "It was no accident they started going after you. No accident one showed up with your face. Are you okay?"

She'd put out a hand against the table. Little shocks of white burst in her eyes, in time with her heartbeat. The filtered air tasted bitter as she tried to steady her breathing.

Of course, she thought.

Of course.

There were no coincidences, not being her. Heisenberg, for all his efforts in carting her around, running her from place to place always one step ahead of the BSAA, hadn't accounted for one thing- that they weren't the only ones with their eyes on her.

That there had never been any chance of peace. Not for them.

"How?" she heard herself say. "How did Ouroboros get my DNA? How do they even know about my powers?"

Chris paused for a microsecond. "I don't know. Not entirely. I suspect there was some kind of data breach after me and the Hound Wolf Squad evacuated the village, someone listening in after catching wind of Miranda's plans. She wasn't exactly subtle about them."

She turned to face him. "Okay, fine. Doesn't matter. How do we take them down?"

"I'm working on that. Like I said, they're smart, but they've stuck their necks out sending the Embryo tests into Regent City. They can't just release them kilometers out, expect them to wander into town. They've got to be within the city limits. Close to where all the attacks have taken place. Somewhere they can contain more than half a dozen huge-ass monsters without raising notice."

"That could be a lot of places."

"I know." He leaned against the table, staring into the charred depths of the dead Embryo, his eyes half-lidded and lightless.

Rose was silent for a moment.

"You said you were friends with my dad," she said quietly.

Chris inclined his head.

"What would he do if he was here?"

Chris gave a low laugh. "Latch onto the smallest lead and worry it to the bone. Hunt it down no matter how stupid it was to even try."

He glanced sideways at her. "You know what he did to save your mom? After years of radio silence, he gets one email from her. One. And he spends the night battling through the hordes of hell in the Louisiana bayou to get her back alive. Crazy bastard."

He shook his head. "Took on Miranda and her family freakshow with a pistol and a prayer. I thought it was all for nothing after Heisenberg escaped from the Hungarian facility with you in tow, but when you popped up, years later, just a glimpse of you through a Glaswegian CCTV camera...it was nothing short of a miracle. I think I'd almost given up on those."

"I'm not a miracle," Rose said.

Chris looked at her.

"I'm not some kind of symbol," she went on. "Or savior. Miranda wanted to make me into a vessel for her own dead kid, nothing more than an empty shell to use as an excuse to murder, manipulate, and destroy. I'm never gonna be that again. Not for anyone. Ever."

"Rose, it's safer-"

She grabbed him by the front of his HAZMAT suit and wrenched him closer. He outweighed her by more than a hundred pounds, towered over her by more than a head, and yet he stumbled under her strength.

Her power surged; mold unfurled from the orange material of her suit, a splayed halo of writhing tentacles that glistened like oil in the fluorescent light.

"Ever," she said again. "Get it?"

She released him. Chris rocked back onto his heels. "Loud and clear," he said, a little smile hooking the corner of his mouth.

"Good," Rose told him. "'Cause I can get way meaner than that."

Chris held up his hand; the rest of the squad that had followed him- the Hound Wolf Squad, Rose guessed- lowered their weapons.

"All right, boss?" one said in a distinctly Afrikaans accent.

"I assume you won't take my suggestion of staying out of the action," Chris said, giving his guy a thumbs up.

"Not on your life."

"You're a kid, Rose."

"A kid who inherited crazy powers from a god. You want me on your side." She paused. "Also, I'm literally the only person on this continent that Karl Heisenberg might listen to."

"Might?"

"We're kind of on the rocks."

"Yeah, I got that as well." Chris paused. "He's dangerous, Rose. I know you know that, but you should hear it again. Ethan trusted him, and Ethan died. Don't let yourself suffer the same fate because of some misplaced loyalty to him."

"He's the reason I made it past seven months," Rose said. "My loyalty is not misplaced."

Chris held her gaze for a long moment, his forehead deeply lined, his brows drawn together in a contemplative frown. Years he'd fought bioweapons like her, years he'd spent putting mutants in the dirt. Not listening to them, sympathizing with them. Not granting them mercy. That was how he kept people safe, how he kept the world from descending into undeath and chaos: doing what needed to be done, and doing it well.

Now he seemed to be giving her a chance. Rose wasn't about to waste it.

"Then what do you propose we do?" Chris asked- half-mocking, half-serious.

Take the lead and worry it to the bone. She was her father's daughter, after all.

"I have a plan," Rose said. "But there's one catch."

"Yeah?"

"You need," Rose went on, "to let out Heisenberg."

[jingerhead]

My bestie @archiveofourfoxes is sick and shared an andreil sickfic headcanon with me, so I’m writing a quick drabble for them! I know I have a million other things I wanna be writing...but I'm literally so busy and I happened to be focused on doing this so I went with it haha. I hope you enjoy!!

~*~

Andrew woke up and his whole body ached.

He barely wanted to open his eyes, squinting despite the only light in the room being what made it through the curtains. The sheets were tangled around his legs, but the rest of the blankets had been kicked off the bed at some point in the night when Andrew had gotten too overheated. He was still too hot, his head was pounding, and he couldn’t breathe through his nose, which meant his throat felt like sandpaper.

And to make it worse, it was both summer and a day off, so Andrew couldn’t skip exy practice. That was the real tragedy.

It was very rare that Andrew got sick, only once every few years, but when it hit it would hit hard. He could barely swallow the little spit that was in his mouth, but moving at all sounded like the worst plan ever, despite Andrew needing to drink some water. He slowly turned his head on the pillow to glance at the clock, seeing that it was almost seven in the morning, which meant that Neil would be home from his morning run soon. All Andrew had to do was wait for a little while and then things would be fine.

After attempting to swallow again with little success, Andrew managed to weakly kick the rest of the sheets off his body and turn on his side. He sniffed, but despite feeling congested, his nose was just as dry as his throat, which probably meant that he’d need fluids soon. But Andrew wasn’t getting out of bed when his limbs felt brittle and yet like jelly at the same time, head pounding so much he was sure he could tap a rhythm along to it.

Not only that, but he felt disgusting. He wanted a shower, and for Neil to get back soon so that he could bring him a glass of water. Hell, Andrew would choke down some pills as well just to feel a bit better, and he hates swallowing pills. He tried to remember what medicine they had around, sure they had ibuprofen and cold medicine from the last time Neil had been ill. It’s always a nightmare when Neil is sick, because he always goes with his default ‘I’m fine’ excuse until Andrew can get a list of his symptoms out of him.

Speaking of Neil, where the hell was he?

Andrew suffered for another ten minutes in silence. He didn't even have the cats for company to keep him distracted, but that was probably for the best. Sir would want cuddles, and King would get hair everywhere, which would only make Andrew feel even more uncomfortable than he already was. He heard the keys at the front door, heard footsteps walking towards the bedroom, and then finally Neil was there, eyebrows furrowed and a plastic bag clutched in one hand. He wasn’t even wearing running clothes.

“Hey,” Neil said, toeing off his shoes near the bedside table and sitting on the edge of the mattress. “What do you need?”

Thank fuck Neil didn’t waste time on stupid questions like asking how Andrew was feeling. “Water,” he managed to get out, closing his eyes when the mattress moved as Neil got up. He was back in seconds, a large glass of water in his hands. Andrew lifted his head to sip at it, the sandpapery feeling in his throat not going away, but his mouth wasn’t dry, so he counted that as a win.

“I got DayQuil,” Neil said, ripping the plastic packaging off of an orange bottle. “Did you know you have to show an ID when you buy it, now? Apparently ‘cause there’s alcohol in it. That’s what took me so long.”

Andrew attempted to sniff again, trying to work his throbbing head to remember any other interactions with Neil that morning. He was pretty sure that he’d woken Neil up by shoving all the covers away, which led to checking for a fever, which led to Neil checking their medicine supply and… “We have cold medicine,” Andrew managed to say, voice still raspy.

“It’s just for congestion,” Neil said back, pouring some of the orange DayQuil into a small medicine cup. “Here, this will help more.”

Grimacing, Andrew held the medicine cup and debated on pouring it out on the floor. The only thing that stopped him was the thin carpet under their bed, which had been a housewarming gift from Bee. So instead, Andrew attempted to knock back the medicine like a shot, almost spit it out on the sheets, but managed to choke it down. “Water,” he said again.

“You can’t drink water right after drinking medicine,” Neil said, taking the medicine cup back. “Take a shower. You’ll feel better.”

“My head is going to explode,” Andrew huffed, reaching for one of Neil’s hands. Neil reached back, allowing Andrew to tangle their fingers together. “Fix it.”

Neil let himself be moved so that he could brush some of Andrew’s hair away from his forehead, palm feeling for a fever. “Take a shower,” he said again. “I’ll make you some tea. It’ll help.”

“Tea?” Andrew asked, wrinkling his nose at the thought. He’d never had tea in his life, because who needed it when there was coffee?

“Yeah,” Neil agreed, taking his hand back. It was only then that Andrew noticed the way they were shaking just slightly. “Tea. Need help?”

“No,” Andrew grumbled, pushing himself up. His head was still pounding, but the more awake he was, the more manageable it got. He’d survive a quick shower.

Neil was out of the bedroom quickly, leaving Andrew to gather a change of clothes and trudge to their bathroom on his own. He decided to steal some of Neil’s sweatpants - the good ones with the cuffed ankles, because if he was going to suffer then he was going to be comfortable dammit, and his favorite hoodie. The bathroom steamed up quickly, and the longer Andrew spent standing in the shower the less congested and more clear-headed he felt.

Andrew changed and brushed his teeth, decided not to bother combing his hair, and found the bottle of ibuprofen pills, hoping it would clear up the last of the headache he still had. He then walked to the living space, plopping down on the couch and grabbing a pillow, staring at where the cats were sitting in their tower. Neil came by a moment later, placing a steaming mug on the coffee table.

“Want the remote?” Neil asked, arms fidgeting after putting down the mug. “A book? Blanket? You warm enough?”

“Quiet,” Andrew mumbled into the pillow. “Neil, that better not be tea on my coffee table.”

“It’s our coffee table,” Neil reminded him. “We bought the furniture together.”

Dammit, they had, and when Neil had started freaking out about owning furniture, Andrew had calmly told him it was theirs. And for some reason, that had seemed to help out. Maybe it was the idea of not owning something so permanent alone, or maybe it was just something in Neil’s head that Andrew wouldn’t quite understand. “It’s mine when I’m sick,” he decided, lifting his head so he could glare at Neil. “I don’t want it.”

“It’ll help,” Neil said, his voice just barely going quieter and making Andrew feel things. It made him want to do something stupid, like drink the damn tea. “It’s Green Tea. It won’t even taste bad.”

“All tea tastes bad,” Andrew argued, now staring at the mug.

“Try it?” Neil asked, turning to walk back to the kitchen. “I bought some soup, it’ll be easy on your stomach.”

Andrew continued to glare at the mug of tea, deciding now wouldn’t be the best time to ask for ice cream.

The mug was left untouched even after Andrew had sipped some soup and grabbed himself some cough drops. Neil barely let Andrew out of his sight, always hovering around and getting whatever Andrew wanted. It was weird, but that had to be because this was the first time that Andrew had been the sick one. Neil was barely used to taking care of himself, let alone trying to nurture someone else back to health. Andrew was glad that he wasn’t nauseous. He didn’t want to know what Neil would be like if he was.

Unfortunately, Neil seemed pretty set on the tea thing. When Andrew let the first cup go cold, he simply got up and made another one. The second cup was ginger tea, and then after that it was peppermint. Andrew was ready to curse his coffee drinking habit that let him gather so many mugs by the time there were four on the coffee table, all cold and untouched.

“How much tea did you buy?” he dared to ask.

Neil shifted on his feet, which was enough of an answer for Andrew. “I read it would help,” he said, almost sounding upset if Andrew didn’t know better.

“Tea is gross,” he grumbled.

“It’s not,” Neil snapped back, kneeling down to frown in Andrew’s face. Slowly, it melted away. “Sorry. I’m pretty bad at this.”

“Yeah,” Andrew agreed, reaching out to grab the nape of Neil’s neck. “But at least you’re pretty.”

That damn fever.

Neil rolled his eyes. “I’m not kissing you when you’re sick. That’s gross.”

A shame, Andrew decided. Instead of asking for one, he pulled Neil closer and shifted on the couch. They both settled down with Neil resting against one of the armrests, Andrew laying his head down in his lap. “My head hurts,” he complained again, trying to blindly find one of Neil’s hands. Thankfully, Neil finally got with the program and started to lightly massage the back of his neck, and Andrew felt like he may have melted.

“You should have some more medicine soon,” Neil pointed out.

“I want coffee ice cream.”

“Of course you do,” Neil snorted, pushing one thumb more firmly against tense muscle when Andrew opened his mouth to complain. “I don’t think ice cream will help.”

“It will,” Andrew weakly argued. His eyes were drooping, as though he was starting to fall asleep.

“Maybe I should call Aaron to check.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

[echo-of-sounds]

sweet kisses

-Aizawa x f!reader-

This was a commission for @ninja-scenarios​. She asked for a comforting, fluffy scenario with Aizawa taking care of his girlfriend who’s struggling with really bad anxiety. There is some light smut. 

Thank you so much for the commission JJ! I hope it helps you feel better!

The walk home drained nearly everything in you. You needed to work on reports. You needed to shower. You needed food, to do the laundry, the dishes, sweep, sort through the mail, pay bills, call the apartment manager, and whatever the hell else was on the stupid list. 

But you couldn’t. What little energy preserve you had left was used to undress. Everything else dwindled, your body left empty.

The bed was your one option. The blankets provided a physical barrier only; every sinking thought, every skulking fear, every worry, dread, and horror were just waiting to wrest your mind. And the second the quilt covered you, those mental patterns sucker punched. Though, it was more like just punched. You expected it. You couldn’t feign surprise. 

To try to drown the thoughts, you turned on the Tv. Yet five minutes into browsing movie options, a screen flashed, telling you the player had low power, and to fix it, you needed to go to some website. You just turned it off. It wasn’t worth it. Nothing was worth it today… 

Weight loaded your eyelids against you forcing them open. The room sat dim, lit only with the fading sun and blurry street lights. A hazy drum beat behind your eyes, complimenting the stitch straining your neck. Both sunk your stomach rotten. 

You didn’t bother switching on the lamp or getting ibuprofen. You just grabbed your phone and rolled over, squinting at the light, scrolling past all the notifications. Videos nor jokes were appealing. Conversation took too much of anything. Your brain reluctantly decided on a brainless game, checking out as your thumb moved across the screen.

At some point, you must have fallen asleep again because the door opening jolted you awake, slapping your phone to your nose. It dropped to the bed then flopped to the floor. 

Shouta said your name from somewhere behind you. All you managed in your fuzzy state was a hum and rubbed your eyes. When the lights flipped on, you got a grunt out, telling him to shut them off. 

He did. Clothing fell. Some rustled. A drawer closed. His voice eventually came towards you, flatly asking, “Was your day okay?”

“Mhhh.”

“Work went alright?”

“Sure.”

“Have you done anything-”

“No, Shouta, I haven’t done anything,” you sneered, immediately recoiling, hating, regretting your tone. The question wasn’t even finished. You didn’t know what he was going to say, and his questions certainly didn’t merit that.

The bed dipped. Covers shifted. Chilly air snuck under the lifted blankets, prickling your back and arms. A hand settled your waist, slowly wrapping around you, tucking you to his bare chest, dispersing the cold as he always did. His body always basked in repose, weighing against yours, faithful and earnest enough for all insecurities to trickle out. 

The lightest of lips touched your shoulder. You sighed his name, shifting forward a bit. Your skin was gross; your clothes: worn; hair: knotted to a nest. His warmth was undeserving. Why did he give it to you? Why did he bother with you? He spent days on end working, teaching, exercising, grading, being a hero, and socializing even when he hates to. All you did was work and worry. And you were barely surviving doing that. 

You squeezed the forming tears away, having no desire for him to see or hear them. This wasn’t his problem; don’t make it his.

His arm remained around your stomach. You traced along it. Fine hairs grazed under your fingertips, slightly obscuring the numerous, trivial scars you knew were there yet went unnoticed by your petting. 

Breath flushed across your cheek. It was small, but it coaxed you back to him. The quiet lingered for a while longer before he spoke, “I know life is stressful right now. Whatever happened, I’m here to help you.” 

You nuzzled into the pillow with a groan. Your heart and temples pulsed. It would only add another task to his overtaxed day. And the last thing you wanted to do was cause exhaustion.

Sweet lips touched your temple, hovering there as he hushed your pet name, “Kitten, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“Bad day… again.”

“Anything in particular this time?”

You shook your head. 

“Is there anything I can do?”

You shook your head. 

He breathed out heavily. The exasperation made you nuzzle away, hoping to hide, but his hug kept you connected. He carried no frustration when he said, “Just want to sleep?”

“I want to… But I can’t.”

“Why?” 

“Stuff to do.”

“Like?”

It took you a few seconds to muster the strength to say, “Shower.”

Though, as you laid in silence, the process inflated from ‘taking a shower’ into something Herculean. You’d have to get up, find your brush, do all the up and down and back and forth motions to complete brushing your hair, then walk to the bathroom, raise your arm to turn the knob, take off every single garment, and wait for the water to warm. And that was just to get ready for the shower. The shower itself was inconceivable. You’d never make it. You couldn’t-

“What about a bath?”

That’d be easier; still grueling but feasible. 

“Mmhmm.”

“I’ll start it. Give me five minutes.” With another kiss on your shoulder, Shouta rolled out of bed. 

You snagged your phone from the floor. What you intended to do didn’t matter; the battery had drained to three percent. You tossed it to Shouta’s side of the bed and got up to brush your hair. However, after four passes, your energy fizzed out, so you gave up and went to the bathroom. 

Floral leaked from the open door. Sho hissed a swear. You found him and the overflowed-with-bubbles bathtub. Suds crept over the side, foaming to the bath rug. The mistake edged a smile onto your lips, bringing a brief glint into your heart. 

“It wasn’t me.” Shouta fished a bubble-covered bottle from the tub, grumbling, “Minnow attacked my wrist. Made me drop the damn bottle.”

The accused cat scampered out of the room, clearly satisfied with what she did. You undressed and shrugged, “Just soap.”

“And a mess.” He steadied your arm and side as you inched into the bath, pausing now and then to get used to the almost-too-hot water. He did have a preference for the higher temperatures. Well, in this case, it was a really high temperature. 

Shampoo, conditioner, and soap laid in the corners. You reached for the soap. A hand caught your wrist, and he spoke from behind you, “I’ll do that. Wait for me.”

When he left, you scooped water over your body and dipped back, dunking your head underwater, soaking your hair. You regretted not brushing it as your fingers caught on multiple knots. 

The door squeaked. You cleared your eyes to see Shouta naked, plopping his phone down on the sink. Mellow, almost romantic, music played from it. He stepped in behind you. You had to scoot forward to give him room. You stifled the little laugh when his left knee cracked.

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.” 

He settled into a comfortable position then, wasting no time, ran his shampoo-coated fingers through your hair. They occasionally hooked one of the many tangles but were otherwise slick, laving until they focused on the top of your head, repeatedly circling your scalp. 

You giggled from the force, “Sho, you don’t need to go that intense.”

He grunted but slackened, choosing to massage your head more than scrubbing the shampoo in. You leaned back and sighed. Fingers were still rough as they moved to your neck, gliding along your shoulders, warming the surface muscles. His thumbs joined next, firmly, deeply circling your trapezius, and with his fingers clenched on your shoulder, a moan was pushed out. 

His breath stirred the skin behind your ear, “You’re holding yourself tight. Relax.”

“Don’t mean to,” you uttered right before letting out another moan.

Sho’s deep chuckle soothed you in unison with his hands. They returned to your scalp, straightening your soapy hair. He grabbed a cup and instructed, “Tilt.”

You did, closing your eyes as water fell over your scalp. He did it multiple times, gently running his fingers with the knots, washing all the shampoo out. 

Conditioner was next. Once it was thickly lathered in, something started pulling, practically yanking on a tangle. You turned to see him holding a comb. 

Sooner than you could critique his brushing skills, he countered, “I’ll be easy. Your hair is a mess.”

You relented. After separating your hair, the comb worked its way through, snatching a knot on occasion. He’d mumble an apology and carefully unravel it. Other than that, he stayed true to his word and finished without too much trouble. 

“Thank you.”

“Mmh.” He kissed your head, rubbing the back of your neck. Hands drifted to your upper arms, down to your elbows, then returned your shoulders. They repeated the slow act, squeezing and circling. It beckoned you. His legs opened and you rested against him. Wrapped in his embrace, you sighed, content and safe. 

Teeth pinched your ear. “Clenching this much isn’t good for your health.”

Palms dug into your latissimus dorsi, sweeping from your spine, outwards. You gripped his thighs and arched away from the pain’s source. Yet you were drawn close again. Hands resumed their rhythm, seemingly pleased by your constant hissing.

So far, the simple bath hadn’t drained the last speck of energy you had. But his kneading wasn’t helping… at all. Maybe your body needed it, but your mind couldn’t handle any more exertion. You tapped out, “Okay, okay.”

It stopped. Delving palms changed to grazing, soothing from your jaw to your calves. He added soap at some point. It reached everywhere, smooth, delicate, atop your shoulders, rounding to your breasts, sweeping along your stomach, saturating your skin in his oak and honey soap. While it conflicted with the lavender bubble bath, you couldn’t bring yourself to care, especially as his scruff bristled your ear and lips brushed their way around. 

“Relax your back.” 

“Sho…”

“Let me help. Just relax for me, kitten,” he purred, kissing your neck. 

You did as he said with a shameless moan. The soap, coupled with his fingertips, flowed down your tummy. His large, empty palm rubbed the outside of your left thigh, fondling its length; soap, your right, ensuring every spot was washed. They switched and repeated their actions, all while he kissed and nipped your neck.

Your thighs opened up when he cupped your knees. The palm and soap carried on on your inner thighs, fondling and washing and switching sides, except they never touched low between them.

On instinct, your hips jerked a little, trying to get his hands to you. A husky, deep chuckle warmed your neck. You thought you heard your name, so you glance back, getting firm lips on yours. His dull nails and fingers dug into your skin. Not hard, just heavy, feeling their way closer. 

The soap bar laved over your upper thigh and rounded its shape. It did the same to the other. He gratuitously slid along the crooks of your hip, taking his dear, sweet time, almost tauntingly so.

Right when you were about to complain, he gently cleaned you, cautious of the most sensitive parts and tactful to not push deep. Fingers, though rough, slipped across you and washed the bubbles away. 

Lips attached to your neck as his actions shifted from bathing to stimulating. His arm rose from the water and set the soap aside. His fingers, sleek and ready to give, dipped below again, massaging your labia in the same motions he used on your shoulders, rubbing pressurized circles, flattening your clit between his hands for a drawn-out second before moving on.

He breathed into your ear, “Relax. Just a bit more. ”

You whined.

“Relax, kitten. Let me take care of you.”

Your body went limp: thighs spread, your head lolling to his chest: completely open for him. And he took advantage of it and found your clit, twirling around it. 

“You know I’m here for you, right?” 

“Ye-ahh,” you moaned as the weight increased. 

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I-” The palm left your thigh to add to the pleasure, ebbing two fingers inside that flushed upwards. You clutched at his wrist, turning into his neck. “Sho- Fuck.” 

When was the last time you had time together like this?

That didn’t matter. Two fingers frisked your clit, not shy about going fast and hard, and the two inside pushed knuckle deep. Water and bubbles sloshed with his arm’s movements. Your body didn’t stand much of a chance. 

Muscles in your thighs and back wrung tautly. Nails hooked skin. You whimper his name as the tension released, fluttering soft love and warmth through your stomach and limbs. He whispered something you couldn’t quite catch. His petting continued, particularly your inner thighs and tummy, allowing you time to calm. 

As you laid there, the water flattened around you, losing bubbles and heat. Shouta’s embrace kept you warm; legs kept you still; arms kept you close. His lips graced along your shoulder. They didn’t whisper sweet nothings, but they consistently carried affection, littering his love all over your body.

In a hushed tone, he asked with his mouth pressed to the top of your head, “Did something cause your anxiety this time?”

You shook your head. 

He sighed. It held something. 

You turned around to rest on his chest. His fingers coasted through your hair as yours meandered over pale skin and handsome body hair. Small dents and blemishes were nearly unnoticeable. His heart pumped strong.

Bristles scuffed your forehead. He kissed there next. “I can’t help if you don’t talk to me, and no matter what happened, I’m here to help you.”

“… It was just a bad day.”

“I know. You’ve already said that.”

You shrunk in on yourself. His body’s been such a rare comfort in your life lately. And you’d take as much of it as you could, wishing you were allowed more than what you were granted. It felt like he was being taken away; like your time wasn’t important; like you weren’t important. Being logical, you knew that wasn’t true… Yet it sure felt like it at times. 

A finger petting along your jaw got you mammering: “I’ve been… I don’t like being here… I miss you…” 

“It’s hard on you, I know.”

“I know your schedule is out of your control, but I miss you, Sho. It… This place is so lonely without you. I don’t mind the time you spend away, and I try not to let it affect me. It’s just difficult. I want…” Fearing irritation, you huddled in. Everything he did was amazing and incredible and so, so important, but… 

Your hand was grabbed and held to his lips. 

“I don’t want to sound annoying or needy. I really don’t. I just wish you could be home more. I know you can’t… I just miss you, Shouta.”

His chest expanded. Arms tightened around you. Compassion lowered his whisper, “I’m sorry I’m not home as often as I used to be. I know you get lonely during my long stretches. I’m sorry, kitten.”

“It’s alright… I just- Maybe…” 

“I’ll try to come home more,” he finished your thought. “Things are winding down a bit. I’ll make more time for you, I promise.”

“Thank you.”

“I love you. I need you to know that.”

“I do. And I love you, too.” You nuzzled as meager as possible, needing him to surround you, which he gladly did. And you two laid there for a while, enjoying each other’s bodies and listening to soft music. 

However, it came to an end when the door creaked open. Minnow strolled over and stood on her hind legs, peaking at you two as she let out a long meow. You lightly laughed and scratched under her chin. Sho pet her back, though she jumped away from his soaked hand. You watched her walk around and meow again. 

It made you remember one of the numerous things you didn’t do when you got home: “She’s hungry. I didn’t feed her earlier.”

Shouta hummed and, once you lifted off his chest, stood up, stepped out, and patted most of himself dry. With the towel around his hips, he helped you out and wrapped a fluffy towel around you. He told you, “Go get dressed. I’ll clean up.”

You didn’t argue and went and found an old T-shirt to wear. You should really put on lotion. Your skin needs it. Yet you couldn’t find the energy, deciding to do it later or tomorrow or whenever you remembered next. 

The brush was taken from your fingers. Like in the tub, he brushed your hair for you, just as easy. You half expected a talk about how you’ve completely disregarded the laundry and dishes. Or questions on why so much mail was left unopened. Or why so much dust had accumulated on the shelves. With him essentially working twenty-four seven and out of the apartment the majority of the week, those responsibilities fell to you. And you weren’t handling them at all.

But the lecture never came. He finished with your hair with a rather neutral face. It felt like months since you last saw his relaxed brows and that teensiest hint of a smile. 

You thanked him and tried to crawl back into the burrow of blankets, content to sleep for the rest of the evening. Instead, your hand was caught and pulled back to him. “I-”

“You need food.”

“Sho-”

“It’s not healthy. If I make you something, will you eat it?”

“Don’t know.”

“Rice? Even if it’s a small bowl.”

You groaned, pushing your face into his still bare chest.

“You need to eat something.” He mumbled your name and kissed you. “Would cereal be better? Mac and cheese?”

“Hnn… Rice is fine.” Although you fussed, you appreciated the mothering. Heaven knows when you were going to get around to it.  

When in the kitchen, you gave Minnow food and fresh water. Shouta diced up some broccoli, bell peppers, and a few other vegetables to throw into the oven as the rice cooked. He asked some leading questions to get you to participate more. You just leaned on the counter.

“Not interested in helping?” The little smirk told you he was only toying with you. It didn’t stop the anxiety and guilt and blame and embarrassment and-

A hand found the back of your head and guided you to his chest. It rumbled when he spoke, “I was teasing.”

“I know.”

“I wasn’t insinuating you were bad.” “I know.”

“But you still thought it. I saw your face.” He kissed you. “You’re not weak for this.”

You thought more along the lines of pathetic. All of this was.

“Or pathetic.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Yes, you were. And it’s not. Struggling with mental health doesn’t make you pathetic. It just means you’re having a hard time. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

You didn’t respond, choosing to stay in his embrace while the food finished, almost, but not quite, falling asleep with his sturdy hands on your back.

And twenty minutes later, you were filling a bowl up with white rice and roasted veggies. Sho’s figure stopped in the corner of your vision, staring. He was just staring and kept staring. You looked over. “What?”

He kissed your temple. The briefest touch of his warm, raw lips could soften you. And his words did even more: “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Your chin was tilted up for his lips. “I love you, and I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you… for everything.”

“You don’t need to thank me for taking care of you. Now, get your food. You need to eat.”

Both of you finished filling your bowls and retreated to the bedroom. You were about to mention how the Tv stopped working when he clicked something into place and the screen turned on. 

Problem solved. 

Shouta lounged on the pillows as he ate. Minnow quickly joined, curiously sniffing at his bowl. You settled beside them and slowly picked at your food, listening and watching Sho talk to her like she was a child. The cat clearly wasn’t understanding why he wasn’t sharing.

Clean, fed, and in company, your body could relax. And not in a ‘jaw clenching, riddled with stiffness and irritability’ way. You felt okay. You felt calm. For the first time in a while, adoration and affection outweighed the anxiety. 

[yournameoneverypage]

Confessions

Shawn x reader.

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: Drinking/drunkenness, blink and you'll miss it angst.

// * // * //

You rested your head back against the front passenger seat of Shawn’s Tesla and closed your eyes. “I drank too much.” He had picked you up from a girls' night out with your friends. You had been ready to go home before the others and Shawn had told you to never hesitate to call him if ever you should need to.

“Just don’t puke in my car,” he snickered. “We’ll be home in ten.”

You rolled your head to the side and met his eyes as he glanced at you. “You really didn’ have to come,” you said softly.

“Of course I did. I wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

“But your friends...”

Shawn had had a few of his friends over at his place that evening. He had chosen to not drink much himself, anticipating a possible call from you.

“It’s just Brian left. He crashes there all the time.”

“When am I gonna meet ’em?”

“When I’m ready to share you with them,” he smirked.

“’m yours,” you whispered, small smile on your lips, and closed your eyes again.

The thought of you being his made his heart skip.

// * // * //

Once in the elevator, you placed your hand on Shawn’s shoulder for balance and slipped off your heels. You exhaled in relief. “That’s better.”

He took your shoes in his own hand and when the elevator door opened, he said, “Hold on to me, honey.”

You bubbled, “’m not so drunk I can’t walk!”

“I beg to differ. You almost bit it getting out of the car,” he teased.

“You have good reflexes,” you said, wrapping both of your arms around his bicep as you started down the hall.

Stopping in front of your door, Shawn asked, “Where are your keys, Sweetheart?”

“In here. Somewhere,” you mumbled, letting go of him to dig through your clutch.

“Give it here. I’ll find them.” Cell, cash, credit card, dark pink tinted cherry lip balm, a-ha, keys, and, “Condoms? I didn’t think you were that kind of girl.” He smirked, trying to conceal the disappointment in his voice.

“’m not but the twins are,” you giggled.

It shouldn’t have mattered if the condoms had belonged to you. Still, Shawn found himself profoundly relieved.

Unlocking the door and stepping inside, he set your heels on the shoe rack and hung your clutch from a wall hook.

He led you to the kitchen and made you sit on one of the stools at the island. “Let’s get some food in you. You’ll thank me in the morning.”

You watched intently as Shawn cut an avocado, removed the pit, and scooped out the flesh. He mashed it and added small pinches of garlic, sea salt, and pepper and then put two slices of whole grain bread in the toaster.

“I haven’ been drunk since college... "I do stupid things when I’m drunk.”

“We all do stupid things when we’re drunk,” he chuckled, taking a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water.

He was about to pass it to you when you said, abruptly, “I kissed some guy at the club.”

He lost his grip on the glass. It hit the ground with a crash and shattered.

“Shit.”

“Lemme help,” you said, starting to move from the stool.

“No, you need to stay right there while I clean up. I don’t want you to get hurt.” He laid a dishtowel over the mess before retrieving a new glass and trying again. This time he successfully placed it before you, followed by a slice of avocado toast. “Eat.”

You ate dutifully while Shawn sopped up the water and swept up the glass. He found a post-it and wrote:

No bare feet in the kitchen!

He stuck it right where you would see it in the morning. He wasn’t sure if he’d gotten all the slivers.

Shawn polished off the second piece of avocado toast himself while leaning elbows and forearms on the kitchen island across from you. “Finish your water too, angel.”

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you whispered.

He smiled tenderly. “You would do the same for me. Now, come on. Time for bed.”

He followed closely behind you as you made your way to the master bedroom. It would be the first time he had been in your room; he was undeniably curious. He slipped his slides off just outside the bedroom door and crossed the threshold.

It was a stunning space. King-sized, hard maple, canopy bed, likely custom made, with matching bedroom furniture. The bed rested on a large rug which felt ridiculously plush beneath his bare feet. Above the low-rise dresser hung a 50” flat screen television.

Shawn was pulled from his perusal when he heard you apologize. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

“I feel guilty.”

“For what?”

“For kissing someone else.”

“You can kiss whoever you want, babe.”

“’cept you,” you sighed. “He wasn’ even a good kisser. Too sloppy. Too eager.”

“Of course he was eager. You are gorgeous. And darling, in this dress...”

“Which I can’t wait to get outta.” You reached behind you and started to unzip it.

“Whoa,” Shawn said, spinning away, flushing.

You giggled and hiccupped. “I’m not gonna get naked in fron’a you! I just need outta this damn dress! Help me!”

He stepped up behind you and moved your hair to the side.

While he slid the zipper all the way down to where it stopped at the dimples above the swell of your bottom, you confessed, "He coulda been your twin. Or maybe I jus’ saw your face in his ’cause you’re always in my head.”

Before Shawn could even digest that, your dress fell from your body to the floor. He groaned softly. You were wearing a blush colored, lace, strapless bra and matching thong panties. He looked up at the ceiling and breathed deeply. This would be an inappropriate time to get aroused, but damn if you didn’t have the most amazing body he had ever seen.

Suddenly unsteady, you swayed on your feet. You reached out to grab the bedpost, almost missing it, but Shawn was there to catch you, again.

He chuckled. “I need you to sit down so I can find you something to wear to bed without worrying about you faceplanting.”

“I should take a shower.”

“In the morning, love. I’m afraid you’ll stumble in the tub and hurt yourself.”

“I gotta’least wash my face an’ brush my teeth.”

Shawn stood beside you, holding your hair back, while you scrubbed your face pink and brushed your teeth. He then had you sit on the chair at your small vanity while he went to choose something from your dresser drawers.

He returned with a pair of white boy short underwear with rainbow hearts all over them and a white racerback tank top.

“I like these,” you said about the boy shorts. “But I don’ want this.” You handed the top back to him.

“What do you want instead?”

“Can I wear your shirt? It’ll smell like you an’ I’d really love that.” He was wearing a simple white button-down.

“You’re lucky I’m wearing a tank top underneath, and that I have a hard time saying no to you,” he chuckled, undoing the only three buttons that were fastened, slipping it from his shoulders, and handing it to you. He then waited on the other side of the door to give you privacy to change.

You exited the bathroom, thankfully seeming to be a little more stable on your feet. He bit softly on his bottom lip; he liked how you looked in his shirt.

“Come on, babe. Into bed.”

You crawled to the very middle of the mattress. He retrieved the brush from your dresser and positioned himself behind you. He gently brushed your hair out before loosely braiding it. That way, should you wake up sick, at least your hair would be out of the way.

When he had finished, you glanced back at him over your shoulder. “Do you really think I’m pretty?”

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known,” he said softly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Then why don’t you want me?” you whispered.

He kissed your shoulder and breathed in the scent of your soft, warm skin mingling with the smell of himself from his shirt. His heart began thumping in his ears. You probably wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning, which made him braver than he would be otherwise.

“I want you, more than you can imagine, and that scares me,” he murmured. “You were…unexpected. You walked into my life and turned my world upside down so quickly; it’s making me question everything. I feel unbalanced around you.”

“’m sorry, I didn’mean to.”

“I wouldn’t wish it any different,” he smiled tenderly.

Shawn helped you settle under the covers and retrieved a glass of water and two ibuprofens to set on the nightstand beside the bed. He also moved a small wastebasket to within arms’ reach.

He crouched down to level himself with you and gently asked, “Do you really want to kiss me?”

You exhaled, your words almost imperceptible, “Every damn day.”

He took a deep breath. “If you remember any part of our conversation tomorrow, I’ll let you,” he promised. “Damn the consequences.”

// * // * //

@mendesblurb @benito-mi-vida

[shingia]

i’m not sure if you’ve gotten this request before (feel free to ignore if u have loll) but could i request how hq boys would help u when ur hungover.... cause i am big time rn LMAO please and thanks <33

✗ HQ BOYS WHEN YOU’RE HUNGOVER ✗

the way i ran to my drafts to start writing this omg 🏃🏻‍♀�� ngl it almost made me miss being hungover <\33 anyways- hope you’ll feel better v soon and are taking care of your poor hungover self 😽

-> timeskip! kita, kuroo, tsukishima, suna, oikawa

-> warnings : mentions of alcohol (for obvious reasons), mentions of throwing up and mentions of food

— KITA

• this man knows how to handle a hangover better than anyone

• he’s a moderate drinker, but his grandmother’s books contain the cure to everything and he’s more than willing to make you benefit from his knowledge

• he will make you drink these three bottles of water, that bowl of tomato soup and that banana milkshake with a tablespoon of honey. dehydration ? he doesn’t know her

• but kita also knows how important it is to not stay in bed all day, so he’ll insist on having you spend at least thirty minutes outside in the fresh air, most probably in your backyard

• you can refuse, of course. but he’ll take away your cuddle privilege immediately, so~ your choice

• also expect a lot a few disapproving looks,,, because as much as he loves to pamper you, he can’t help but remember the dozens of times he told you you’d had enough to drink last night. obviously you didn’t listen

• i think would disapprovingly care : like- lecturing you under his breath as he sprays essential oils on your bedsheets or tests the temperature of the bath water before letting you in

• remember the cuddle privilege i talked about? yeah, that’s going to be your reward at the end of the day for not being stubborn and docilely following his instructions

• with freshly perfumed bedsheets and his natural body warmth, you’re likely to fall asleep in five second tops. but that doesn’t mean he’s going to leave you, quite the contrary. no, this man will continue to take care of you in your sleep

• and by that i mean belly rubs to make sure your nausea is gone when you wake up, or gentle head massages to make your migraine go away. he might even brush your hair so that you won’t wake up with knots

• he doesn’t even expect you to thank him, because « isn’t that what all husbands are supposed to do ? »

— KUROO

• he’s probably hungover too because he had to finish half of your drinks,,, yet it still wasn’t enough to prevent you from waking up with the biggest headache

• in other words : dimmed lights all day. he might not even open the blinds. and to be honest he likes these kind of vibes

• sure, it feels like your brains are about to explode, and every single part of your body is aching (eyelashes included), but it’s cozy and your minds are too fogged to worry about anything other than getting better- so it’s self care and self care only today

• it’s likely that none of you will feel like eating something, but kuroo’s an athlete : he knows better than to skip a meal, especially when you both feel so weak

• so he’ll sacrifice himself and make the grueling effort of leaving the bed to cook you a little something, nothing extravagant but still enough to reinvigorate the two of you

• and since you don’t have anything better to do, you guys decide to watch the videos you took during the party,,, and slowly come to the realization that you have very few memories of what happened

• « is that you dancing on that table ? » you ask him, pointing at the man who is just a second away from tripping on a napkin

• lifting his shorts, kuroo glances at the bruise on the upper part of his thigh : « ohh- well that explains a lot »

• chances are that, because of his built, kuroo will feel better before you. so the true pampering will come later in the evening

• he’s got vitamins, ibuprofens, blankets, and his arms ready for you. you’re in for the deepest sleep of your life

— TSUKISHIMA

• « i told you so »™️

• you would wake up feeling like absolute crap and he would be eyeing you, standing next to the bed with his arms crossed and eyebrows raised : « how are we feeling ? », even though the answer is pretty obvious

• but he knows that sarcasm won’t get him anywhere so he tries to tone it down (try to)

• you might think he’s not going to do much, but as soon as you step out of the shower he forced you to take (even though you were exhausted), you realize that he did do much

• the clothes you wore last night are already in the washing machine, your new ones (most probably his) are neatly folded on your bed, waiting for you, and he’s cooking an anti-hungover meal that he looked up on the internet

• if he has to study while you’re getting some rest in the bedroom he will put reminders on his phone every 15mn to come and check on you

• and he never leaves the room without lifting the covers up to your shoulders to make sure you won’t get cold

• he also wets a towel and gives it to you to place over your eyes if they’re sore

• but as soon as he’s done studying, he joins you in bed with greatest pleasure. and it’s a good thing that tsukki loves comfortable silences, because neither of you feel like saying anything

• you’re just laying there, letting him keep track of time since you’re too busy enjoying being pampered that much

— SUNA

• blackmail material for YEARS (in addition to the videos and pictures he took of you during the party)

• he turns this into a vlog, you could be half-asleep on the couch and hear him talk to the camera from the kitchen like « so here i am making pasta for this lightweight who threw up all night... i’m still waiting for my boyfriend of the year’s award... »

• but really, he’s just being dramatic. deep down he loves to take care of you when you’re hungover because you get much clingier,,, so he allows himself to be clingier too

• as much as he loves to lay down on top of you, the roles are reversed this time. because being crushed by a 6’3 tall man while you’re hungover is probably not a very good idea

• but before these lazy cuddles, he wants to make sure you’re comfortable : so he’ll remove your makeup (if you wore any) and give you his clothes because he knows you like how oversize they are

• so yes, naps and water are definitely the keywords of the day, but tell him once that you crave one specific food and he’ll immediately go get it for you

• he’s also surprisingly careful with any possible headache, so he’ll keep his earphones on while scrolling on his phone to make sure you can rest in complete silence

• however, at some point he will hand you his phone and have you record a video for your future self. something along the lines of : « hi y/n, this is you from the past. i feel like absolute shit right now so please be more reasonable next time... and don’t let rin get more embarrassing pictures of us »

• and you can be sure that he’ll use this video as a threat next time you’re partying. he would just have to point at his phone from the other side of the room and you would understand what he means

— OIKAWA

• he’s not the person to call if you want to be talked out of partying ever again

• because not only does he spend the entire day praising you highly for the way you looked yesterday, but you also realize that he loves your drunk self (as long as he’s here to watch over you)

• he doesn’t mind you complaining because he’s had a few hangovers of his own,, so feel free to whine about your stomachache/headache all you want

• and if you throw up ? it’s ok, he’s got you. and he’s not leaving your side unless you ask him to

• literally, he spends the entire day babying you. you’re feeling too tired to brush your teeth ? no problem, he’ll have you sit on the edge of the bathtub and do it for you

• same goes for washing your hair or getting dressed : there’s nothing he’ll refuse

• if your head doesn’t hurt too much, he’ll offer to watch a stupid tv show in front of which you can fall asleep without missing anything important

• and he’ll make sure to get the right cuddle position right away because he knows you’ll probably fall asleep very quickly and he doesn’t want to wake you up by fidgeting under you

• also: expect many many scalp massages. and his hands are the softest so they feel absolutely divine

• i think oikawa knows a lot about hydration so he’ll probably make you drink something like sugary water to give you a little boost. and if you don’t trust this drink, he’ll try again with another one until you’re completely hydrated

• and as i said, he’s very supportive,, almost too much : « you finished your glass ! i’m proud of you baby! »

taglist : @toworuu @catwithangerissues @miyumiya @livy384 @k0u-minamo2 @fullsundear @hsjvwq @kelsuuki @hiraeth-z @velvetvirgos @kirishimas-manly-eyeliner @47meow @japanesevenom @geektastic84 @noir-blanches-blog @idontlikeyourjob @seiri-ami @atiny-grl-with-luv @admiringlove @nachotrash @kellesvt @aintyourholy @Moonlaeli @catchmewiddershins @duhsies @devilgirlcrybabiey @crystal-lilac @ijustwantfreenetflix @mimaki @maitenight

[juletheghoul]

Oblivius Chapter 4

Am I insane for posting another chapter? Yes. Am I doing it anyway? Yes. Should you message me about how you feel about Spills & Francis? YES!

(Got a song you want added to the playlist? send it to me!)

I've gotten so much love over this series and I cannot tell you how happy it makes me that you guys love these two idiots as much as I do. <3

(Feo means ugly in Spanish but it can be used as a term of endearment between [male] friends)

Likes & reblogs are appreciated

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Pairing: Frankie x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Angst, yearning, 18+ language, alcohol (Spills gets wasted)(Please let me know if I forget anything)

Masterlist Series Masterlist Part 3 Part 5 Playlist

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

Age: 17

“No Francis I don’t wanna watch this - I’m gonna get scared.” It was late, you were both sitting in his cozy living-room, a big shit-eating grin on his face.

“Why, are you chicken? It’s just The Shining, it's not even scary.” He put it on and despite your protests, he settled and let the movie play, You gave him a pout.

“Okay if you really don’t want to I’ll change it you big baby.” He rolled his eyes to grab the remote but you stopped him.

“Promise you’ll walk me home?” You knew it was one of his favourites. He smiled wide.

“Of course! If it’s too much I'll change it.” He gave you most of the blanket that was draped over his legs and you sat very close to him. He was taller than you remembered him being, having gone through a growth spurt over the summer and he towered over you now. All knees and elbows.

When the room scene came on you burrowed your face into his neck and he wrapped an arm around you, you were so pretty. Your hair smelled so good and he buried his nose into the messy bun you wore. You practically clawed at him, trying to get closer - he made you feel safe.

“Is it still scary?” You spoke into his neck.

“Yes - don’t look yet, just a little longer.”

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

**Present Day**

Pope was holding up a shot-glass full of something and there were shots lined up for the three of you when you walked in.

“Catfish, I never thought it would happen for you feo, but I’m glad it did. Claudia, he’s lucky to have you.” He raised his shot glass and a chorus of ‘To Frankie and Claudia’ rang out before everyone tipped the liquor back.

The burn in the back of your throat couldn’t just be from the tequila, you’d swallowed a lump. You’d forced back the tears stinging your eyes when he dipped her back to kiss her. With her laughing and grabbing his neck they were the picture of romance and the smile you had plastered to your face must have looked manic. Popes eyes caught yours then and his eyebrows raised, a question in his features that you couldn’t quite read but he looked away and left you with your thoughts.

-

You got very drunk. Fall-down drunk. Forget about everything drunk.

“Spills, I think you should stop - you’re going to feel like hell tomorrow.” He was softly taking the shot out of your hand and you tried to fight him but his grip was iron.

“St-op t-telling me wh-what to do Francisco.” You tried to take it back but it seemed like the floor was coming up to say hi. An iron grip around your middle stopped you from losing a couple of teeth.

“Jesus Spills, okay - that’s enough. I’m cutting you off.” He held onto you and you wanted nothing more than to turn around and kiss him but you also wanted to throw up. Decisions decisions.

“I-think-imgonnabesick…” you brought your hand up to your mouth and part of you expected him to let go but he didn’t.

“Take a deep breath, it’s okay, Pope can you get me some water?” He was holding onto you, rubbing soothing circles onto your back and you tried to focus on his hands on you as the whole room spun dangerously. A few minutes later he was holding a cold glass of water to your lips. “Drink the whole thing, I'm going to hold it because if you spill it I'll kill you.” You chugged it down and he put it on the table.

“When did you get so strong, Francis?” Your words were slurred and you felt his chest rumbling with laughter at your question. “You smell so good.” You said it lower- more to yourself, but he heard and the laughing stopped.

“Oh no! Are you okay Spills?” Claudia was there now, her hands pulling your hair away from your face and before you could succumb to the urge to tell her never to call you that Frankie spoke up.

“She’s okay, just need to get her home. You’re okay right, Spills?” His voice was lower, so soothing you could fall asleep to it.

“Hey Frankie, you and Claudia should stay, tell me where she lives and I’ll get her home.” It was Pope, Frankie must have trusted him immensely because before you knew it he was putting you into the front seat of Pope's rental and buckling you in. Claudia was tying your hair back and putting your purse into your lap.

“Be careful please - this is her address, just make sure she gets in and lays face down. There should be a bucket somewhere in her bathroom - water and some aspirin on her night table.” Frankie was talking as you closed your eyes. When you opened them you were parked in front of your place.

“Hey honey, come on let's get you inside. I’m just going to look for your keys, okay?” Pope was taking your purse out of your lap. You nodded vaguely.

He helped you in and guided you to your bed. You could feel him taking off your shoes and throwing the blanket over you.

-----

Someone is driving an ice-pick into my skull.

The light was intense and you swore out loud when you cracked an eye open. You stretched and felt a piece of paper beside you on the bed.

“I locked your door - keys are in your mailbox. Drink the water - take the ibuprofen. Let Catfish know you’re okay when you wake up- he was worried. - Pope”

You groaned.

[Francis]: Spills, are you okay?

[Francis]: Can you answer me please?

[Francis]: Don’t tell me you’re still asleep? What, are you a teenager? Getting drunk and sleeping until 4pm????

[Francis]: Sorry Spills, just worried - can you please let me know you’re okay before I show up?

You could see the three little dots signalling that he was in the middle of typing another message and you quickly called him to stop him.

“Jesus, it’s about fucking time.” He sounded worried and relieved and it pulled on your heart strings in a way you both loved and hated.

“Stop yelling Francisco, I am begging you.” You threw your arm over your eyes to block out the light as you lay there, in yesterday's clothes. You didn’t even want to know what you looked like right now.

“Feeling all that tequila aren’t you? I haven’t seen you that drunk for a long time.” You could hear the faint smile in his voice.

“Yes yes I know - so fucking embarrasing. Did I do.. Or say anything..?” You were trying to ask him without asking him.

“You almost threw up, but if you’re asking me if you started table-dancing you’re good.” He laughed and you sighed with palpable relief. All you needed was for him to tell you that you’d confessed your love or told Claudia to fuck off.

“Thank god. That would have been all I needed. Can you tell Pope I said thanks? Okay, I'm going to go shower for a million years now.” You wanted to hang up, your head was pounding and you needed a few hours of silence and about a gallon of water.

“Okay - see you in a few hours.” You didn’t want to deal with both of them together, not with how you felt right now.

“No Francis I don’t want to entertain, I already embarrassed myself enough yesterday.”

“It’s just me coming and I’ve seen you much worse. I haven’t been home in a long time so, take a shower and do what you have to do and I'll be there at seven.” He hung up and you could have thrown your phone across the room.

Fuck.

---

The knock at the door at exactly seven didn’t surprise you.

What did surprise you was how nervous you were that he would be coming over.

You were literally attached at the hip at one point, he’s seen you at your worst.

“You’re looking much better than you did last night, Spills.” He laughed as he walked past you and into your home.

“Oh god.” You groaned as he laughed, why had you been nervous? You watched him as he set down the bags of what looked to be way too much food on your kitchen counter. Grabbing napkins and forks - completely at ease within your space. “What did you bring?” moved to peak into the bags.

“Chinese - “ He looked to see your eyes wide and the big toothy smile you were giving him and laughed. “Did you think I’d forget you always get Chinese when you’re hungover?” He laughed as he took out what looked to be all your favourites.

“You’re a lifesaver Francis, truly.” You were practically bouncing on the balls of your feet as you served yourself.

“I know, I’m practically a saint.” He walked over to your couch and plopped down, an egg-roll in his mouth as he turned on your TV and looked for something to watch. This was it - this was how it was supposed to be.

This was easy.

He had come over in comfy clothes and seeing him on your couch in sweats and a soft flannel was almost too much. His hair had gotten longer than he had worn it before he went away and it looked so soft; practically begged for your fingers.

“Are you still a baby about horror movies?” He asked without looking at you, you saw that he had put on some cheesy zombie movie. A big smile on his face.

“No, I’m okay, as long as you check every single corner of this place before you leave.”

“God I love horror movies, Claudia hates them so we never end up watching.” He sighed. Her name cut through the air like a knife. An ice cube casually dropped into your shirt.

“That’s too bad.” You quickly shoved food into your mouth, stopping yourself from saying anything you’d regret but he knew you too well. He looked at you then, eyes narrowing a fraction.

“Do you like her?” He asked, point blank and your eyes widened at him.

Fuck, don’t make me answer this right now.

“Yeah, she’s great.” To your credit, you tried. You really tried to sound genuine.

“Why don’t you like her Spills?” He sighed heavily, putting his plate down onto your coffee table to face you properly.

“What are you talking about? I said she was great!” You could feel the flush creeping up your neck and licking at your face at the lie. She was great, that wasn’t a lie - you just didn’t like her.

“Seriously? You’re going to act like I can’t tell you’re lying through your teeth? Just tell me! I’m going to marry this girl. I have to know why you don’t like her.” He had a little frown on his face and you could see that he was worried, but what would he have to be worried about? Worried you’d picked up on something he’d missed maybe?

“I just don’t know her, Francis, that’s all. There’s nothing wrong with her, you know I'm just weird. She seems really nice and I’m sure I’ll like her once I get to know her better.” You smiled at him sadly, you didn’t want to talk about her anymore.

He smiled back at you and picked up his plate, happy with your explanation.

---

It always seemed to happen this way, ever since you’d been teenagers. He’d put on something scary and you would end up with your face buried into his chest.

“Oh god - that is disgusting!” You shut your eyes as he laughed, his chest rumbling underneath you at a particularly gruesome scene. You felt his hand rubbing your arm, and it was such a comfort that you sighed lightly. The words bubbled up without your permission.

“I missed this.” You felt him rest his chin on the crown of your head.

“Me too Spills, I always missed this while I was away, missed you.” He spoke into your hair, you could feel his breath ghosting along your scalp and your heart raced, you wanted nothing more than to turn and kiss him. His hand stilled, and you felt his heart beating under your ear. You wanted to do it, your whole body seemed to tense with want and you turned slightly to look at him through your lashes. He was already staring at you, his mouth was so close.

His phone rang, snapping him out of his trance and you moved away from him reluctantly.

“Hey babe, what’s up?” He smiled apologetically. “Just take a deep breath, it’ll be okay. I’m on my way.” He hung up and gave you a look that said I’m sorry. “Gotta go, wedding emergency.” He sighed heavily as he got up, taking both your plates to the kitchen with him.

You wanted him to stay, you wanted to grab him and sit him back down on the couch and straddle him. Grab the soft material of the flannel while you kissed him but you didn’t. Instead you smiled and thanked him for coming and for the food.

He made his way through the apartment before he left, opening every door.

“Just checking every corner, so you can sleep.” He smiled.

I love you too.

————————————

Tag list: @frannyzooey @foli-vora @danniburgh @sambucky21 @greeneyedblondie44 @lola4pedro @mouthymandalorian @221bshrlocked @artsymaddie @supernaturalgirl @sleep-tight1 @softdindjxrin @wheresarizona @sherala007 @freak-nasty-thick-dick-mando @marydjarin @cannedsoupsucks @thirstworldproblemss @ilikechocolatemilkh @lori-tovar @freeshavocadoooo @hrk-fic-recs @greeneyedblondie44 @maxwell--lord @princessxkenobi @the-feckless-wonder @kirsteng42 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @thisshipwillsail316 @feministfanboi @dihra-vesa @gaiuswrites @stevie75 @sweet-creature98 @readsalot73 @tobealostwanderer @elegantduckturtle @diogodxlot @alczysz17 @evyiione @absurdthirst @beskarboobs @andruxx @littlemissoblivious @1800-fight-me @goldielocks2004 @maievdenoir @gracie7209 @omlwhatamidoinghere @bellaorisa @hellovanessax

[princecameronlovedacommoner]

Rafebarry Ficlet: The Shattered too Can Be Healed

( Fluff. Just Lots of Fluff & Rafe Snuggles)

Summary: Barry takes care of Rafe after he comes to him straight from having a fight with his old man.

A quarter till midnight and the bastard comes through the front door like the place is his very own, not one knock, no “What’s up, man” from the other side of the screen while he waited for Barry to let him inside. Not even a simple “Hey, mind if I stay around awhile?” before Rafe Cameron barges right into Barry’s trailer, lips bloody and swollen like he’d just got into it with somebody on the drive over.

Barry turned off the local news network on his little tv in the corner of the room. The weather forecast was done with anyway and he really didn’t give a shit about much else at the moment.

Aside from the clearly distressed Kook who had entered his domain and that was behaving in an even odder way than usual. For Rafe that was definitely saying a lot.

“Well, shit. Look at you, Country Club. Look like somebody done took off with that shiny new ride Daddy got you cruising’ in now. They pull your ass out of it first?” He motioned to Rafe’s split lip and expected him to snap at the jest. To snarl at least. Just a little.

But Rafe didn’t say a word. He dumped his things on Barry’s couch, facing away from him to hide the injury, of which he was obviously ashamed.

“Ain’t talkin’ tonight, huh?” Barry’s tone was less teasing and more…well…gentle was really the only word that could properly describe it.

“No.” Rafe muttered, and that was good. At least Barry was getting something out of him, even if it was mostly just sniffles and swallowed down sobs.

Barry sighed, leaning back in his recliner and crossing his arms behind his head, showing off a pair of bare and decently worked muscles. “Alright then, pretty thing.” He agreed to Rafe’s current terms of silence, mostly just to keep the tension boiling within the blonde headed rich boy from rising into a raging fit.

Barry knew Rafe well enough by now. He just needed to relax for a little while to calm down. “Go take a shower, why don’t ya?” He suggested. “Hot water’s back on.”

Rafe went, without another word, down the hall and locked the flimsy bathroom door behind him.

Alright. So this was going to be a rough night. He only ever trapped himself in there when he was feeling pretty worse for wear.

Whatever. Barry was still confident that he could talk him down enough to avoid an outburst. So he reluctantly got up from his cozy chair and went into the kitchen to make them both something to snack on.

The water in the shower quit after about a half hour and once Barry had thrown a couple of grilled cheeses together, Rafe was already sitting on the couch, wrapped up in his warm grey robe that he kept in Barry’s closet, his golden hair still wet from his shower and his arms crossed over his chest.

“Eat somethin’.” Barry insisted, handing him a plate and then setting down a chipped mug of sweet smelling tea upon the cluttered coffee table in front of Rafe. They didn’t need to talk about that and Rafe didn’t need any convincing to drink it. Whatever Barry used to make the stuff usually really helped him to calm down after a tough run in with the old man. The same was true now, his trembling muscles beginning to slow as he sipped at the hot drink.

“You gonna let me clean that lip up for ya?” Barry eventually dared to ask once he felt that Rafe had been gentled enough to not bite the hand that fed him.

Cameron didn’t reply right away but once he’d finished half of his sandwich and the mug was drained, he touched the tips of his own fingers gently to the angry cut that actually ran through both of his lips. “Not much you can do for it.” He muttered.

“Yeah, well, we’ll see about that.” Barry got up again from his chair and came closer, Rafe’s lack of action to repel him being a clear invitation to approach.

“Who did this shit, huh?” He asked softly as he sat down next to Rafe. Rafe, who didn’t cower from him but pulled his robe tighter against his body, as if Barry might try to take advantage of his currently wrecked emotional state. Even if he knew that he never would.

“Don’t,” He hissed. “Just don’t fucking ask, alright? Just-Just get me some Vaseline and some ibuprofen, alright? Stop asking questions…”

“Sure thing, Country Club. I got you.” Of course Barry knew already that Daddy Cameron was probably the assailant who did the damage but he wasn’t going to say that to Rafe. It’d only get him worked up and angry.

After searching through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom for awhile, Barry came back to patch his shaky little Kook up, going a step further than Rafe had told him to and first cleaning both slashes in the soft flesh with some cold antiseptic before the Vaseline went anywhere near them. Rafe downed a couple of Tylenol after and after a little while of resting on Barry’s couch, arms still crossed defensively over his chest, Rafe got up and went to the bedroom, leaving Barry to finish some dumb 80’s movie they’d started up together.

The bed was nice and soft against the tenseness of Rafe’s body and he slowly let himself sink into the mattress beneath the sheets. Sheets that smelt like them, only slightly less than the pillows Rafe swapped so he could breath in Barry’s scent without asking for the real deal.

The old rickety floors creaked when Barry came back to slide into bed as well, long calloused fingers shoving dark locks back over his head and out of his eyes. “You been theivin’ my pilla again, huh?” He couldn’t help but grin rather proudly when he saw that Rafe had his face buried in the pillow he’d claimed as his: the one that was stuffed into the Carolina Panthers case he’d found at the thrift shop. “Fork it over, baby boy. You can hang onto me instead.”

Rafe didn’t protest, switching the pillows back. He liked his own better anyway. It was firmer. Not as squishy as Barry’s that was going to give him a life long crick in the neck someday.

“Take the fucking thing if it matters so much…” He muttered under his breath at Barry, who willingly pretended that it was his idea alone to roll Rafe over and hold him close against his warm naked chest.

“Come here, pretty thang. That’s a good boy,” Barry dropped little bits of praise for Rafe to lap up like the love starved pup that he was. “Let me hold ya, baby. Been missin your cute ass around here all day, honey pie. You might as well come on in here and shack up with me full time, ya know? Don’t ever wanna let go of you in the mornins, baby. You just got those wicked little claws in my heart now, huh? My pretty thang. Know how fuckin’ perfect you look right now?”

Rafe relaxes deeply enough at Barry’s words that sometimes, including tonight apparently, he doesn’t really even notice that he’s crying against his lover’s skin.

Barry doesn’t mention it either. Just keeps praising him, rubbing on his back, and kissing at every bit of exposed skin he can find to smooch.

Rafe never feels calmer than when he’s here, wrapped in Barry’s arms, being taken care of and loved so thoroughly.

If heaven truly was a real place, he thought to himself before drifting off to sleep, this must be what it feels like to be there.

There’s never been another place on earth that Rafe could flee to, where the dark thoughts in his head wouldn’t follow. Just here. Just here with Barry in these moments where peace of mind wasn’t just a myth.

[c0rpseductor]

i took ibuprofen and had a shower and now im eating some chips and having coffee so i don’t get a stomachache from the ibuprofen. my head is already starting to feel much better but im exhausted