#i’m feeling so unwell do not TEXT

[jiishwa]

ayoooo guess who spent christmas eve in bed with a 101.8 feverrrrrrrr 🤟🏻

[wishingprince]

I packed my first box. It’s so hard this time lol.

[thragedys]

Midnight Visitor

Sol x Reader

Synopsis: Thanks to the takeout you ate last night, the effects of food poisoning from poor catering have finally kicked in, hitting you when you least expected it. To ensure you’re properly cared for, Sol takes the duty of watching over you.

Word count: 1.8k

Includes: Gender neutral reader, sick reader, Sol being soft, affection, trespassing, jealous Sol (+ more!)

After undergoing a series of nausea and intense dizziness, Sol insisted on walking you home despite being out in the city with him and Hyugo. It was as though all life was drained from your face, the only support you had while walking was Sol’s arms holding you upright. 

Food poisoning… Should’ve never eaten from that takeout place with less than three stars in their reviews.

Grabbing the key from your bag, he unlocks the door and escorts you inside, directing you to your bedroom while you whine and hold your face in your hands. Even the slightest tilt of your head would send you spiralling sideways, a recipe for disaster as your stomach decides to conjure its own storm.

Inside the kitchen, Sol spots a paper bag. The logo of the company which made you unwell is there, presented in a large font. Retrieving his phone, he snaps a picture of the logo, alongside the contact details printed on the back. He’ll deal with that later. Currently, he has more important things to tend to. You.

Rummaging through your cupboards, he successfully finds some medication that will ease the aches in your stomach. As for your dizzy head, the best thing he can do for you is close your curtains and encourage you to get rest. Fluid intake is also vital, it’ll aid dehydration. Returning to your side with a glass of water and some pills, Sol places them on your bedside table and sits on the edge of your bed.

“Are you okay? Let me feel your head.” Sol sighs, placing his palm flat on your forehead.

“Sol…” You whine, one hand remaining on your stomach and the other clutching his free hand.

“You’re not that hot, yet. Leave your window open—”

“No! No, I can’t! You’ve seen the news…”

“You will be fine, I promise. Fresh air will make you feel a lot better.” 

“I’m sorry for burdening you with this…”

“Don’t be. I’d rather it be me taking care of you than anyone else.”

“I’ll buy you a—”

“No. Sit down.”

“Ugh, Sol—”

“Rest.”

“I’ll buy you a thank-you gift when I’m better…” You mumble, pouting at him as he leans against the doorframe.

“Send me a text or call me if you need me. Doesn’t matter what time it is.”

“Text… Call… Yeah.” You repeat, rubbing your eyes while burying your head into the pillow.

“Don’t forget, take your medicine.”

“I’m gonna take it… Now.” You reach over and drop the pills into your mouth, then take a small sip of the drink to wash them down.

“Goodnight. I hope you feel better soon.”

Before leaving, he waited until he heard your breathing pattern change, signifying that you were asleep. Alongside the medication, he slipped in a sleeping pill, its dosage strong enough to keep you out for the correct amount of time. 

As if he would leave you alone so easily while you’re sick.

Right now, however, his main concern is dealing with the business that made his soulmate ill, after all, what good is a company in operation if its only achievement is casting a vast majority of its customers extremely unwell upon eating their cheaply sourced food?

Upon arriving back at his apartment, he stripped from his usual attire and threw on a set of his darkest clothes, a matching surgical mask to cover what remained exposed on his face. A complaint wouldn’t be enough, they clearly racked up enough of them online but did not change a singular thing about their selfish ways.

It was just after midnight when the streets were soundless and the civilians were tucked away inside of the safety of their homes. Strolling down the deserted sidewalk, Sol stops outside of a building, comparing the logo to the one saved in his photo album. A perfect match. 

Subtly, Sol explored the perimeter, tracing the outline of the building before returning to the front. It’s no wonder why all of their customers become unwell, the amount of trash that remains behind the building is piled up, much taller than him. 

There is no point in teaching those who do not wish to learn. An ignorant mind reflects an ignorant heart. Only the careless would profit from neglect like this.

Flicking his lighter on, he tosses it to the ground before walking away, the flicker of flames igniting in the distance as he glances back. It won’t be long before a passerby calls the fire department, but that’s no concern to him. When the authorities see the state the building was in previously, they could rule it out as the impact of an unkempt business.

His feet led him back to your apartment, the open window a much easier entrance for him as he climbed up. After all those locks you’ve bought in the past, he’s surprised you never gave up your safety protocols. Securing his footing, he creeps back into your bedroom, kneeling beside you as you rest peacefully in your slumber.

You are so beautiful. Every feature of your face was crafted with tender hands. He traces over your lips with his index finger, slowly drawing his hand back.

“Hi, Pumpkin.” He whispers, leaning in to press his lips against your cheek. “I’m going to check your temperature again.”

This time, Sol uses the back of his hand. Thankfully, he would say you are around average, partially a slight bit higher than usual.

“Good… You’re going to be okay. You might be sick tomorrow but I’ll come over to make sure you aren’t alone.”

“You like having me here, don’t you? You feel so safe, so loved.” He strokes your hair similar to how you would pet a fragile animal. As his hand ventures under the blanket, he comes in contact with something.

“You still sleep with the plushie I bought for you? You…” Sol’s smile expands, his cheeks lighting a subtle shade of pink. “You must love it. Or me. I hope it’s me.”

In your sleep, you moan, your body beginning to shift. He strokes the side of your arm, calming you down as you endure whatever dream is unfolding. After a while, your body stops with its relentless motions and goes still again.

“This is our special time together. It’s my favourite part of the day.” Sol’s lips curve up, his eyes filled with adoration as he clutches your plushie close to his chest. “I’ll make it smell like me again, don’t worry.”

“Mph…” Your lips moved, but he couldn’t decipher the sound that left them.

“Hm?” Sol pinches your cheek, a procedure to test if you’re awake or not. 

You must be mumbling to yourself since you didn’t respond to his touch.

“I’m guessing you missed smelling me then. That’s cute.” When he finished rubbing the plushie against his flesh and clothing, he tucked it under your chin. “You’re cute.”

“He doesn’t deserve you, you know?” Sol mumbles, sinking onto the bed beside you, fingers toying with your hair.

“He would never do the things I have done for you.”

“I know you prefer me. It’s okay if you don’t want to admit it right now. I can wait.” He rolls onto his side, your face now in view. 

“You make it hard for me to leave every single time…” His pitch was low, an almost pouty tone as he nuzzled his head against your chest. Lifting your limbs, he wraps them around himself, drawing the blanket over both of your bodies this time.

“I’ll just stay like this for a few more minutes… Then I have to go.” Sol closes his eyes, the therapeutic beats of your heart are a soothing melody to his ears.

…

Sunlight filters in through the curtains, a bitter breeze hitting your clammy skin. Compared to yesterday, you’re feeling a lot better, the only thing remaining is the dull ache in your stomach. Rubbing your eyes, you squeeze your plushie, only to hear a strange noise. 

Last time you checked, this plushie shouldn’t be able to communicate. Shooting your eyes open, you find a mess of green hair sprawled out on top of you. 

“Sol?” You rub your eyes again, unsure if what is in front of you is reality or a fever dream.

“Yeah…?” Sol mumbles in response, his body shifting. Then he goes still, springing up from his previous position. Shit.

“I thought you left last night.” 

“After you took your medicine, you asked me to stay. You went out like a light but I made sure that you were okay.”

“Did you have this on yesterday?” You tug at his hoodie. “I’ve never seen you wear clothes like this before.”

“These are my comfy clothes, that’s why. I keep the hoodie in my backpack.”

“Oh…” That food poisoning must have hit you hard to leave you so delirious. “Thank you for staying with me.”

“…?” Sol flutters his eyelashes while your hands cup his cheeks, drawing him near. Your lips plant a peck on his forehead, a suiting reward since he went out of his way for you.

“Ah… You shouldn’t have to thank me… It’s what anyone would do.” Sol rubs the back of his neck, a flush spreading over his face.

“I feel sick. Like I’m going to throw up.”

“I’m not surprised. Let’s get you to the bathroom. Get all of that food out of your system for good.” Sol stands first, offering his hand to assist you to your feet.

“I don’t like vomiting.” You mope, refusing to move despite your stomach cramping further.

“But it has to come out. You’ll be okay, I’m right here.” He grabs your hand, squeezing it gently.

The only option is to get up if you don’t want to clean your bedsheets. Swiftly shuffling between rooms, you kneel before the toilet and allow your body to regulate itself, removing the foreign pathogens that invaded your meal. Sol rubbed your back, making the process easier. There wasn’t a lot of retching, but you still felt that familiar burn in your throat when you were finished.

“Any more?” Sol pats your upper back and you shake your head.

“I’ll cook for you this time. No more buying from trashy food places.”

“But they’re cheap…” You puff air into your cheeks, taking your toothbrush which he handed you to remove the bitter taste from your mouth.

“My meals are free. Don’t be ashamed to ask.” Sol takes a final glance at you before heading back to your kitchen, scouring the cupboards in search of something to work with.

For you, he would do anything. Make anything. Even if it’s from scratch. No matter the simplicity or complication of a request you have, he will ensure that you get what you ask for. You don’t deserve anything less. If only you were aware of the lengths he has gone and is still willing to go for you.

[samkerrworshipper]

so win.

alexia putellas x reader

no fuel quite like my procrastination to not do other things i need to do. this is porn without plot, i’m not ashamed of it. it’s also unedited and has been worked on after a day of clinicals so if there are spelling mistakes and grammar mistakes i apologise. i wrote this in like 3 hours lol. i’m also a mess at the moment and actually avoiding my whole life so this is my outlet. anyways i wrote smut! for the first time in forever ;) also for the sake of this let’s ignore timezones bcus i couldn’t rewrite the start of this to make it work lol.

warnings: smut, 18+ viewer discretion advised

You’re not with Alexia when the campaign drops. You’re not even watching the game, you’ve never been quite able to wrap your head around the nfl thing or get into like your girlfriend, the rules of rugby have been so ingrained in your mind from childhood that seeing men run around in massive pads just gives you an ick.

You’re not even the person who sees it first, you’re sitting in a cafe trying to get some studying done because it’s impossible to do at home when your clingy girlfriend insists on sitting, holding, grabbing or clinging onto any part of your body when she’s bored. It’s like trying to keep a five year old entertained, and it always ends up with you sacrificing whatever coursework you have and being endlessly stressed when you fall behind. You simply leave studying for when Alexia is out of the house or when you have time to study elsewhere.

You’re heavily engrossed in rewatching a lecture you’d missed the previous week due to training when your phone lights up. It’s no exaggeration, your phone screen goes from being blank and dark to suddenly notification after notification pouring in. Different groupchats, instagram tags, text messages. There’s another ten minutes left on your study clock before you’re technically allowed to take a break but with every thing that pops up your only become more curious. Curious enough that you look down at your clock with complete disregard and reach for your phone. It’s sitting next to your laptop, it’s supposed to be upside down to minimise distraction but when you were watching the lecture it stopped you from being able to check the time and you liked to watch as the time ticked by.

You click onto you groupchat first, a mixture of Barca girls, mostly the older ones. Most importantly Mapi, who has bombarded the groupchat in a matter of seconds, with image after image of your girlfriend.

You click onto them harmlessly, Alexia has a series of campaigns that you’re aware of that are coming out in the next few months. As you’re waiting for the images to load you try and remember if she’d told you about any coming up, there was something for Cupra at the end of february and a big campaign for more than eleven in march, and a few smaller things amongst it but nothing you could think of that was due to release today, or in the next week.

When the first image loads, you’re eyes almost bug out. Your throat closes, the oxygen leaves your lungs and you feel almost dizzy. You have to blink multiple times to clarify that what you’re looking at is real, it’s not just a hallucination of some wet dream you’ve had, it’s a real photo that exists in front of you. As you flick through them, you only feel more unwell, and a little bit wet… or a lot.

The first one is just Alexia’s face, staring straight down the lense. The way she’s been captured is almost animalistic, pink sports bra, big earrings, her hair in the wet look. It’s her eyes though, pointed straight on, the eye fuck look, like she’s staring into your soul the same way she does before she’s about to rail you, except it’s all magically been captured in one photo. You want to look at it forever, you’re scared you’ve actually lost the ability to use your extremities and all the oxygen has stopped circulating inside your body from the mix of shock and awe.

With as much power you have you flick to the next photo, and if you were already feeling unwell this feeling is close to death.

Alexia, looking over her shoulder, flexing.

All of her tattoos are on show, every single muscle is accentuated and you almost drool on your phone as you study all of the different parts of the picture. Alexia’s skin is literally glowing, effervescently in a way you cannot even begin to describe. You know from thousands of hours of tracing the skin of your girlfriends back just how strong she is, yet with everything emphasised more in the photo you feel like no matter how many hours you’ve spent staring this is adding a whole new perspective. Her arms, her facial expressions, the illusion of her hair sticking to her skin, the pink contrast against her skin.

You have to scroll, because if you don’t you won’t be responsible for the actions you engage in whilst in a very public space.

The following few pictures are of other athletes, basketball players, gymnasts, runners, other football players. For the most part, americans, yet your girlfriend in all her glory is a part of it.

You get through quite a few photos before it comes to the video, you were already gobsmacked, but the video seals it for you.

Alexia looks flawless, absolutely ethereal in every way. It actually feels like you are living in one of your fantasies or dreams but no this is very much real life and you are actually dating the person on your screen.

There’s no chance you’re going to get any work done, you can’t even get a coherent thought that doesn’t involve Alexia. Alexia’s abs, Alexia’s back, Alexia’s eyes, Alexia’s face, Alexia. You pack up your books and laptop with one thought on your mind, seeing your girlfriend.

Mapi’s private messages to you are filthy, message after message of her reminding your of what is now out in the world and about how now even more people are going to be even more obsessed with her.

You drive home over the speed limit and slightly recklessly, it’s not a long drive from your favourite study spot to you and Alexia’s shared house, but it feels like it drags on for forever. Your knuckles are white from your tight grip on the steering wheel and your unoccupied foot is bounding furiously against your floormat. You run a couple of close yellows, which are mostly red and have a complete disregard for giving way to anybody. You have an end goal, and that goal is to get home before you combust from all of the built up energy and tension in your body from the reruns of the pictures you’d seen.

You’re not even sure if you put the car in park when you swing into the driveway, you practically sprint towards the door, leaving Alexia’s prized cupra to fend for itself. Your hand is so sweaty you struggle with the door knob for a few seconds, your brain is frantic and you struggle and jiggle with it until it finally turns and there is nothing between you and finding exactly what you’re looking for.

Alexia isn’t in the front room, not that she normally would be. You pace your way through the hallway, past your bedroom which seems unoccupied and into the living room.

Alexia.

Alexia is sitting, on your couch, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, though it’s hard to appreciate it with the shit eating grin on her face as she tries to make herself look comfortable and like she’s actually lounging on your couch. Her body is tense, it gives away her whole bravado, you don’t really care though.

“You’re home early? You said you wouldn’t be back till lunch time, no?”

There is no acknowledging of her comment, you take your jacket off and lay it on the edge of the couch before unceremoniously pouncing on your girlfriend.

“I cannot believe you.”

Alexia makes it easy enough for you to straddle her lap, opening up her legs and making plenty of room for you.

You stare into her eyes and all you can picture is the photo of her, the look on her face isn’t dissimilar to the one captured, but it’s not quite the same.

“The campaign? Did I not mention it?”

You roll your eyes before leaning down, alexia goes with ease, her mouth opening up for you as soon as your lips meet hers. It’s all teeth and tongue, not quite a fight for dominance, just pure arousal.

“You’re a brat, and really fucking sexy.”

Alexia smirks against your lips, and then she bites back, her tongue fighting against yours.

“So you like it?”

You move your lips to Alexia’s neck, licking a line down her neck and kissing up it before biting down, foregoing any kind of gentle.

“Do I like my girlfriend looking extremely fuckable on the internet? Jury’s still out on that one.”

Alexia chuckles, leaning her head back to give you full access to her neck.

“Mm, muy fuckable.”

The laugh that leaves her mouth is enough fuel for you to nip her again, sucking a mark right above her collar bone, not directly visible but enough to make her sweat about keeping it hidden at training tomorrow.

“I’m going to need a private show in that outfit at some stage.”

You move back up to Alexia’s mouth, this time the make out is less frantic, you’ve gotten out some of your residual jitters.

“That can always be arranged.”

You tug at the hem of Alexia’s sleep shirt that she still hasn’t gotten out of yet.

“Bed first, fashion show after.”

In the swiftest motion possible Alexia is bringing herself up onto her feet, and lifting you with her. You wrap your legs around her torso, never breaking the makeout.

She makes it to your bedroom at a record speed, dumping you onto the mattress before climbing back on top of you, her shirt being thrown haphazardly into the air somewhere as she lowers herself down. There’s no bra to fight with and you reach for her breasts before her lips are back on you, grabbing and rolling at her nipples until she gets the message and has climbed fully onto the mattress on top of you.

Alexia stays on top of you, making out for a while, until she get’s bored with her hands and decides that you need to mirror her level of undressed. She flips you on top with so much ease that it doesn’t even surprise you, the photos on the internet showed Alexia’s muscles, but they didn’t show just how strong your girlfriend truly was.

Alexia didn’t mess around with your tank top and bra, tugging them off with the same kind of urgency that you’d been in to get back to the house earlier. As soon as the clothes are gone you’re flipped back onto the mattress, Alexia retaking her position. Her hands go straight to your tits, pinching and pulling in a way that makes your back nearly arch off the bed. You’re already aroused from your session in the coffee shop, but this is only adding fuel to the fire.

It takes everything in you not to moan immediately, you clench your jaw and bite your lip as Alexia elicits all different kinds of sensations.

‘Sé ruidoso bebita.”

As per usual, not much gets past Alexia, you try to relax just slightly, let yourself feel it all completely.

“How wet are you going to be when I finally touch your pussy, hm? How wet did my photos get you? All hot and bothered in the coffee shop like a little slut.”

There is no point in shaking your head, you just smirk, you’re proud of it, you’re proud that you get to come home to this and everyone else just has to enjoy Alexia from a far.

“Show me, reach into your panties and show me how wet you are and maybe I’ll think about touching you.”

You hesitate for a second, but then Alexia pinches on of your nipples and rolls your other breast in her hand and your hand naturally moves downwards, your hips canting up as you do so.

Your fingertips are glistening and dripping as you bring them out of your shorts, Alexia doesn’t hesitate to pull them straight into her mouth, sucking all of your arousal straight off.

“Alexia, please.”

Alexia licks her lips in a way that makes you so certain that she’s desperate for more, she’s just as turned on about this as you are.

“Pants off.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth your reaching for them hem of your pants and kicking them off, your panties go with them.

Alexia doesn’t wait, she moves her body downwards until her mouth is hovering right above you.

She looks up at you, hesitates for a second, it’s the exact same face as the photo, beautifully feral.

She doesn’t hold back whatsoever, her mouth goes straight to your clit and you’re already aroused, already dripping everywhere but you reach another level. Your moans are breathy and free falling.

“Fuck baby, feels so good.”

You’re a stuttering mess and far too aroused to try and pretend like you aren’t already close.

Alexia keeps a steady pace, licking and sucking at your clit and occasionally living long strips up from your pussy. It feels so good, earth shattering good.

“Ale, close.”

You expect her to pull back a little bit, normally she likes to prolong your pleasure just a little bit, the wait is worth the reward. But it seems like the both of you are too aroused to ignore the urgency of the situation. Alexia doubles down, her arms pushing your thighs further apart and reaching up behind you to grab at your ass whilst she enjoys having more access.

When you realise she isn’t going to let up you unclench your hands from the sheets and push them into Alexia’s hair, grabbing at the root and pushing her exactly where you want, grinding down against her chin.

It doesn’t take long at all, alread close as it was. Then Alexia grazes her teeth over your clit and doubles down and you see stars. Your body goes with you, shaking and tensing before relaxing as your enjoy the aftershocks. Alexia takes the opportunity, pushing two fingers into you and setting a brutal pace.

“Alexia, need a second.”

Alexia doesn’t stop, if anything she only goes harder, her fingers searching for your g-spot and finding it with ease. The overstimulation makes your stomach tight and yoru clit ache, in the best way.

“Una mas.”

You shake your head, even though it’s blatantly clear you’re going to give her another one, there isn’t really a world where you wouldn’t, not when Alexia makes it so easy to feel so good.

“You can give me one more bebita.”

Alexia’s palm grinds against your clit gloriously, it’s a bit too much for a few seconds but it fades as the pleasure overtakes.

Alexia’s favourite activity is amking you fall apart, watching you experience a kind of pleasure that is unmatchable, all at her own hands. Alexia adds a third finger, knowing that it’ll give you what you need.

It’s more than enough for what you need to reach a release. This time the initial orgasm lasts longer, you tense for a few seconds before you go boneless on the mattress. You melt into the sheets, your head lulling against the pillow as you breathe your way through.

Once you’ve stopped clenching against Alexia she pulls her fingers out, licking up every part of your orgasm, not leaving a single drop behind.

She crawls her way up to you, lying down on her side next to you, looking at the blissed out expression on your face.

Your eyes open lazily, a big smile on your face.

“You’re unreal, literally, how did I get this lucky?”

Alexia leans in, it would be rude to not kiss your lips at every possible chance, especially when your smiling at her like that.

“The real question is how I got this lucky.”

It the same kind of phrase that would elicit vomiting noises from your teammates in the locker room, and yet you love it all the same.

The kiss is soft, everything you need in the moment. It gives you enough confidence to reach your hands down inbetween the two of you, pressing down against Alexia’s front with one intention.

Alexia gasps into your mouth, and it’s enough guidance for you.

You walk your fingers up to the waistband of her pyjama shorts that she still hasn’t changed out of at nearly midday. You trail them down on the inside, unsurprised at her lack of underwear.

Alexia’s wet, the cotton of her shorts sticking to the insides of her thighs.

You part her folds, enjoying the way she moans and gasps into your mouth as you map your way through a different part of her body.

When your fingers find her clit, it’s easy to tell just how turned on she is.

You set a pace of fast tight circles, you’re well educated on Alexia’s body and when she’s this worked up this is the best way to get her to an orgasm.

You know she’s getting closer when her kisses get sloppier and desperate, her lips hang onto yours like they’re becoming an extension of her, like she’s scared that if you separate it’ll take part of her with her.

She shakes and grinds into you, searching for that last bit of stimulation she needs. When she infds it she groans into your mouth, her hips jerking one final time before they go weak, her body goes still for a few seconds. You slow down but don’t come to a full stop, pulling every last bit of her orgasm out for her until she’s tugging your hand out of her shorts.

Alexia presses some soft kisses to your lips before pulling you into her with one arm.

“If that’s what I get every time I take some nice pictures, maybe I should do it a bit more. See if I can get a job with Victoria’s secret or a swimsuit company.”

Alexia doesn’t need to see the look on your face to know exactly how all of your features would clenhc up and your eyes would roll.

“If you do that there will be a whole lot less sex for you and a whole lot more sessions with my vibrator for me. You’re cute, but I’d like to keep some of it for me.”

Alexia snorts, before tugging you in tighter.

“The fans would like it so much though, maybe I should just post some of the photos from the beach over the summer in Ibiza, the topless ones were cute.”

You elbow Alexia straight in the gut.

“How about you model the nike outfits for me first, and then we can decide how far you can take your new found modelling career.”

You’re still in slight disbelief that Alexia managed to keep something this big from you. She was obviously always having ongoing things going with nike, but something this big, and this special was hard to keep underwraps.

“I looked that good, huh?”

You roll even further into Alexia, pressing your whole body into hers.

“Muy bueno. New additions to the wank bank right there.”

You snort when you look over your shoulder and see the confusion on Alexia’s face, her english is good, but her english slang lacks in certain departments.

“Wank bank?”

You snort again, the innocence behind her voice makes it so much better.

“Just my folder for when I’m very alone on camp, and need some extra assistance.”

Alexia’s brain clicks, she laughs, and then the meaning must click in because she blushes beet red.

You stand up, already searching for your forgotten articles of clothing.

“Wait a minute, wank bank? What else is in this folder?”

You’re already tugging your pants on and trying to find your tank top which had apparently vanished into thin air.

“Hopefully whatever new photos I can find in the album of spares that was left over from this shoot.”

Before you can hear what else Alexia says you’re racing off in search of her laptop.

“Wait, I need to see this folder. Bebita, I need my own folder. WHAT IS IN THIS FOLDER.”

—————-

anyways have a wonderful day/night! i love you! somebody out there loves you! you are blessed to have this day and every other one to come <3

[synthetickitsune]

svt ot13 + when they're sick

Seungcheol ❧ He’s tired of being sick, he’s tired of seeing doctors. Cheol insists that he’s strong, that he can do this on his own - and to be completely fair he’s a grown man, of course he can handle it. Even though he’s not necessarily acting like one when he tells you again that he’ll handle himself just fine. You just asked him how he felt. So upon his insistence you shrug and give him an okay, which doesn’t go down well. Immediately there’s a pout pulling at his lips, his eyes soft and voice whiny when he asks if you can’t just coddle him when he’s already feeling unwell. He won’t outright ask for anything, but his pleading eyes following you anywhere make it very clear that unless you take care of him, he’ll follow you around in his miserable state. He might not say it, but it’s obvious that you’re to kiss his headache away and hold him until he falls asleep. When Cheol wakes up to medicine on the nightstand, cup of hot herbal tea and you walking in with a bowl of soup, he acts like you’ve hung up the moon and the stars just for him.

Jeonghan ❧ He’ll tell you it’s nothing - that it’s just bad air quality. That he’s just doing his tiny coughs for attention like it’s not a full coughing fit. I’m allergic to work now, he’ll joke. When the fever starts to rise and his body is burning up, Jeonghan will still wink playfully at you like he’s not shivering and whimpering when he thinks you’re out of earshot. It takes him barely catching his balance by leaning against the wall to stop himself from falling over and seeing the upset expression on your face for him to give you a sheepish smile and obediently return to bed. He’s about to text you to please get him some pills, but you walk in before he can. He lets you help him hold the tea and adjust the pillows. Jeonghan lets you fuss over him but makes sure you don’t neglect yourself. He’s a putty in your hands, he listens to your recommendations, anything you tell him. You’re already doing so much for him, so he doesn’t ask for anything. But the smile on his face when you kiss him and tell him to rest is a clear declaration of his wish to hold you.

Joshua ❧ He tells you the night before that he feels off, so it’s not a surprise that you wake up to the sickness hitting him in full force. It takes some gentle coaxing but in the end Joshua agrees he needs to take care of his health first. He pouts when you tell him to stay in bed and that you’ll take care of him, but he does - you remind him he wants to get well soon. He’s shy when you bring him tea, when you bring him breakfast, lunch, medicine, when you open the windows or fluff up his pillow. His eyes follow your lips whenever you speak, but he will settle for forehead and cheek kisses for now. He naps when you tell him to try to get some sleep. Joshua is a sweetheart when he’s sick, he knows it’s already a lot of work to take care of him, so he wants to make it easier for you. Although he’ll take advantage of his sorry state to get some more loving from you, softly asking for reassurance that it’s alright he needs a break, that he needs time to get better. And if he insists needs some cuddles with it, then so what.

Jun ❧ He doesn’t need help. Seriously. Jun can take care of himself, he appreciates that you want to help him, really, he loves you for it, but he loves it when you’re healthy even more. He loves taking care of you and protecting you more than he likes it when you show him the same care. He knows you would, and that’s enough for him. What he underestimates, though, is how well you actually know him. And so when he, yet again, insists that he can do everything himself (despite shivering like he’s in the middle of the arctic and coughing fits wrecking his body) you sigh, whispering under your breath how you already bought the ingredients for his favorite soup to eat when he’s sick. When you raise your head, Jun is nowhere to be found but there’s a croaky voice coming from the bedroom calling your name. Actor that he is, suddenly he’s delirious with fever, slowly parting from the mortal world unless you prepare the ambrosia that will save him - the soup. You roll your eyes, but you smile - and then smile again when he kisses you and thanks you for indulging him.

Soonyoung ❧ How dare this happen to him? Soonyoung will whine at you and whimper at every new inconvenience brought onto him by the sickness. He pouts, he sulks, and he hungrily laps up all the attention and affection you give him. Nausea and butterflies fight for dominance over his stomach as you take care of him and nurse him towards health. However, when he wakes up the next day still sick, he’s less cute. He’s still grateful and he tries to stay cheerful for you, but when you leave the room, the anger swallows him. He can’t miss work. There’s practice, there’s recording, there’s this and that. He cannot afford to be sick. He slams his fist on the mattress, he sighs, he kicks his feet, he pulls his hair - and then stops with a pained whimper because his whole body is so sensitive and sweaty and disgusting, and he’s supposed to be working and… You find him crying and you embrace him, urging him to let it all out. Soonyoung rambles on and on, sniffling and choking and coughing. It doesn’t change anything. But when he’s done, he least feels reassured that you stay. He laughs when you tell him tigers get sick too.

Wonwoo ❧ It’s not that he doesn’t believe he needs to be cared for when he’s sick, it’s just that he thinks he shouldn’t need that. Wonwoo turns grumpy when things aren’t going his way - the pills don’t work as well as he expected, he feels too sick to fall asleep… He’s not necessarily mean or snappy, but talking to him is better done with some precautions. He knows you mean well, however, and once the irritation from feeling like shit subsides into resignation, he’ll ask for help. Your mom had that tip for a sore throat, could you show me what she’s done? and you do, and he’s grateful and apologizes even though he was mostly just grumbling to himself. He asks for your help with things he isn’t sure about, asks about your experiences and what helped when you were sick. Wonwoo doesn’t want to burden you, the illness and weakness he feels seeps into his mind as well. Contrary to the usual, he likes it when you hover around him, when you help him keep track of the time, keep track of drinking and eating enough. Any time he refuses food and you find an alternative that will be easier on his stomach, he falls a little more in love with you.

Jihoon ❧ He’s not sick, what do you mean he’s sick? The burning up? That’s nothing, he’s just overdone it at the gym. He’s just lazy. His body is lazy and looking for an excuse. He’s just tired, exhausted as he sometimes gets when work’s too much. His body is just spoiled and looking for an out. And yet, and yet… Jihoon leans into your touch. When you come check on him, he’s bundled in hoodies to fight the shivers, he leans his body to rest against yours. You wrap a blanket around him and he thanks you, lingering, until you kiss his forehead - subtly checking if the fever is still raging. His head is killing him, he complains, and you double check it’s alright for him to take the pill now, bringing it along with water and a cold towel for his forehead. Some time later you bring him a bowl of warm soup you just made and he eats about half before he suddenly turns to you and finally, softly, admits that he might be feeling a little sick. Like he’s not running a fever since yesterday. Jihoon spills all the other symptoms while you lead him to bed and tuck him in. He promises to listen to you next time.

Minghao ❧ He only asks for you to be by his side and have his back. Minghao prefers to have space when he’s sick, although he appreciates your company if you choose to stay in the same room. You don’t even have to pay attention to him, he feels reassured by simply having you close. He appreciates it if you help him out without being overbearing. He needs space. Although he does miss you at night, when the bed feels freezing and his fever spikes and he can’t sleep but he can’t take his medicine yet either - the only thing that brings him relief. So he feels all the more grateful when you show up with a cold towel and wipe the sweat off his face and neck. Minghao won’t ask you to stay, but if you do and he gets to listen to your soothing voice, he’ll do it with a smile. Tell him about your day, rant about your interests, tell him a story, he doesn’t care, he’ll listen. He just wants to be distracted from the pain and uncomfortable feeling. For once the gentle sound won’t keep him from sleeping, and perhaps you’ll witness his hand reaching for yours as he drifts off.

Mingyu ❧ He’s stressed twice as much. Not only is he skipping work, but Mingyu is also skipping housework and leaves you not only to take care of your home but also of him and that’s just heartbreaking. He basks in all the attention you spoil him with nonetheless. He might be taking a slight advantage of the fact that he looks so pathetic you let him get away with anything and do anything for him, but he also feels bad about it. He hates inconveniencing you, hates not tending to your needs at all. And neglecting his work is a whole different can of worms. He’s just not having a good time and he whines about it to you between each spoonful of soup. Every date he wanted to take you on, every outing he promised to his friends… but also how much he loves the time he gets to spend with you, how lucky he is to have you, how good your cooking tastes. Mingyu can’t decide if he wants to complain or look for the silver lining. What he’s decided on, however, is to plan the best date to take you on as a thank you. Even delirious and half-asleep he’ll be murmuring about it, making you lose sleep but you can’t say you mind.

Seokmin ❧ Being sick causes him so much anxiety. What if something goes horribly, catastrophically wrong and he can’t sing anymore? What if you start resenting him for being weak and needing help? Seokmin softly asks for reassurance whenever he wakes up from his restless sleep, his eyes bloodshot and pleading as you open the window to let fresh air in or bring him the medicine. He doesn’t need to ask, you’d remind him yourself that it’s alright to take a break, that your love is unconditional, but he catches you off guard - pretending to be asleep only to speak up the moment you get close. He’ll try to end his treatment way too soon, not able to stay still a moment longer. Even if it’s the smallest of things, he needs to do something, even if it’s just helping you. Even if it’s just memorizing the moves from practice videos, even if it’s just humming the melody to himself. Still weakened by the sickness and rendered defenseless by your worried glances, however, Seokmin will listen when you tell him to take it easy and wait for the fever to subside. Just add a little I love you and he’ll do whatever you want him to do.

Seungkwan ❧ He feels guilty. Seungkwan tries to find a reason why this happened, but finds none other than he should’ve taken better care of his health. You can tell the smile he gives you when you assure him that illnesses happen without reason is fake. But all you can do is be there for him. He takes his medicine regularly, tries to sleep as much as he can, hoping all the rest will speed up his recovery. He’s the one giving instructions, spending his waking moments either finding ways to still participate at the work he’s missing, or scrolling through a range of tips and tricks at speeding up recovery. He asks you to take his phone away from him when he reads he should limit screen time. (Definitely not because it was giving him a headache and he panicked.) Seungkwan doesn’t fail to remind you that he appreciates you taking care of him, despite his grumbling and complaining. As much as he’s in charge of his treatment, he’s in charge of your prevention. He makes you take your vitamins in front of him and regularly check your temperature too. One cough and you’re in bed recuperating with him.

Vernon ❧ Shit happens, life happens. Vernon accepts his fate and although frustrated by the inconvenience, there isn’t exactly much he can do but lie in bed and focus on recovering. He puts on his comfort movies and tries to ease your worries by calling it a low maintenance date with a shitty husband who’d still make you cook for your date. You might roll your eyes, but you know he’s grateful - he tells you at the very next second. He sets up alarms to remind him to take his medicine, so you don’t have to remember. He lets you take care of him and only asks for some company and a specific meal sometimes, but otherwise he’s not fussy. A little quieter than he usually is; his throat is killing him and he doesn’t feel the need to talk when he’s putting all his energy not to whine about all the aches in his body - you’re already doing so much, he won’t make you massage him as well. When he does speak, Vernon makes sure to thank you, to say he loves you, and that he’ll totally return the favor if you ever need it. Then he pulls you under the blanket with him, a silent request that you watch this new movie with him.

Chan ❧ If you’re taking care of him, he’s taking care of you. Chan will make you both wear facemasks if you’re in the same room to make the chances of you getting sick too as small as possible. The thing is he will follow you around. If you’re in the living room, he’ll join you in his cocoon of blankets. All under the guise of feeling better if you’re near, feeling more reassured that there will be someone to notice if his condition gets worse and ambulance needs to be called. But maybe he just likes the feeling of your fingers running through his hair and your voice speaking softly to him. The illness at least makes him able to spend time with you, to catch up on the things he might’ve missed. Chan reminds you to wash your hands after any time you touch him. He hovers around you to make sure you wash the dishes he touched extra carefully. He won’t be able to stay still, set on taking care of himself as much as he can, but also antsy because he wants to work. He wants to get some of the control over his life back. He melts and quickly falls asleep once you let him lay his head in your lap though.

[selunefae]

Hysterical Paroxysm (+18) - Zayne (Love and Deepspace)

Your heart pounds against your ribcage. You have been here before—several times, in fact. It started a few weeks ago when the pressure inside your chest became unbearable. Everything irritated you. Your husband noticed, of course. And so, that was how you found yourself here. Dr. Zayne Li, Physician.

rating: +18, MDNI

word count: 3,524

tags: zayne (lads) x reader, smut, fem!reader, afab!reader, victorian!AU (not 100% historically accurate)

content warnings: P with Plot, shameless smut, fingering (female receiving), oral (female receiving), doctor kink undertones, breast fondling, nipple sucking, cheating (you're married to a random man named Mr. Smith for plot reasons), gloved fingering, reader has a timid personality

notes: Long time no see!! I started writing this and then entered a writer's block... But I really wanted to finish this oneshot soooo, almost two weeks writing it. :'D I know this isn't 100% historically accurate but it's just smut so, who cares? (If you care please don't read this lol). Again, English is not my first language so sorry if something sounds weird or cringey.

(text may contain errors bc it's 6 in the morning, I'll revise it in the afternoon)

Your gloved hands trembled as you smoothed the front of your gown, pressing your fingers into the fabric in a useless attempt to steady yourself. You swallowed hard, staring at the polished wood in front of you. The brass letters on the plaque attached to the front glowed with the soft light of the hallway.

Dr. Zayne Li, Physician.

Your heart pounds against your ribcage. You have been here before—several times, in fact. It started a few weeks ago when the pressure inside your chest became unbearable. Everything irritated you: your husband’s voice, the creak of the wooden floorboards beneath your feet, the tick of the clock in the parlor… Days were endless and interminable, each one a suffocating repetition of the last. No amount of quiet walks, embroidery, or tea could quell the feeling. You couldn’t sleep at night, you’d lost your appetite, and worst of all, you had begun to neglect your wifely duties.

Your husband noticed, of course.

“She has been… unwell,” he explained to a family friend one evening. “Moody, irascible. And she complains about everything. She can’t sleep but can’t be bothered to oversee the house chores either.”

This friend, an older gentleman, nodded knowingly. “I’m afraid it’s hysteria,” he claimed, voice low like he was speaking of something shameful. “My own wife suffered from it. Restless, emotional… and at times completely unreasonable. The doctor helped her.”

“Hysteria?” Your husband responded, intrigued.

The man took a slow sip of his brandy. “A woman’s affliction,” he confirmed. “You ought to have her seen by a doctor before it worsens.”

And so, that was how you found yourself here. Dr. Zayne is not an unfamiliar name; he has been your family’s private doctor for years, trusted for his expertise and discretion. He has treated minor ailments, overseen your well-being, and even attended to your husband now and then. He wasn’t a specialist in this so-called hysteria, but when your husband summoned him to your home and explained the situation, the command was clear.

“Do something about it.”

And oh boy, did he do something about it…

“Mrs. Smith?”

Your breath hitches. Just when you were lost in your thoughts, the door burst open. Dr. Zayne now stands before you, his expression as composed as ever. You greet him softly. He steps aside, allowing you to enter. The door shuts behind you with a quiet click. The familiar scent of parchment, antiseptic, and something subtly herbaceous fills the air. You know the space well enough to move toward the examination chair without being told.

“How have you been feeling?” he asks, already rolling down the cuffs of his sleeves to put on his gloves.

Your throat feels dry. “Well… the treatment helps a lot, but only for a few hours,” you admit. “Then the restlessness returns. I-I feel irritable again. And there’s still this… heaviness in my chest.”

You hesitate and then let your gaze fall, fingers twisting in your lap. “Y-yeah…”

He nods, pulling the second glove snug against his wrist before taking a step closer.

“So, I assume you’re here for another treatment?”

Zayne holds your gaze for a second, his expression unreadable. Then, without another word, he turns toward the nearby counter to prepare everything. He reaches for a dark glass bottle, tilting it slightly to examine the viscosity of the liquid inside. Next, he reaches for a clean folded cloth. With practiced precision, he unfolds it, smoothing it between his fingers before placing it on the small side table next to the examination chair.

“You may remove your garments from the waist down,” he instructs, stepping back slightly to afford you some privacy.

Your breath wavers as your hands creep behind you, fingers searching for the row of buttons that hold your skirt in place. The tiny fastenings are stiff under your gloves, and your fumbling digits struggle to slip them free. The fitted waistband loosens, and after a moment of vacillation, you push the thick fabric downwards, letting it glide past your hips. You do the same thing with each piece of clothing, folding them over and neatly placing them on the small table beside you, where Zayne has just laid out the cloth.

You continue. Stockings next. You sit carefully on the chair and roll each one down slowly, feeling the silk drag against your legs as you slip your feet from your shoes. Once free, you set them aside with the rest of your garments. The last barrier is your drawers. Your last shred of modesty. Your fingers hover over the delicate ties at your hips. They tremble. The logical part of your brain repeats a million times that this is just routine—a normal medical procedure. You have been here before, and yet…

“Calm down.” You mutter to yourself, trying to will away the nervous energy coiling in your stomach. This is just a medical appointment. Nothing more.

A warm, gloved hand settles gently on your shoulder, making you jump in your seat at the unexpected contact. You let out a sharp, involuntary gasp that you immediately regret. You jerk, your head snapping up.

“If you’re not comfortable, we can stop.”

Stop?

“I can tell your husband that the symptoms are nothing of concern,” he continues, his voice calm. “That you simply require some tests. No further intervention.”

…

No further intervention.

Your stomach twists into knots unexpectedly. A strange, hollow feeling seeps through your chest. A feeling you are all too familiar with. That same weight presses into your chest late at night—when your husband lays in your bed beside you, unaware of the indecent thoughts you are having. Indecent thoughts about someone who has touched you way too many times to still be considered appropriate.

Maybe it’s for the best.

Maybe if you never come back, if you never see him again, you can drive away those unwanted thoughts that plague you at midnight.

“I’m fine,” you blurt, too quickly for your liking. “I-I just lost track of time. I’m sorry.”

Zayne’s expression doesn’t change, but his thumb flexes against your shoulder before he withdraws his hand.

Realizing how much time you have wasted, you force your fingers to move. The ties at your hips loosen with more urgency than before, fabric slipping free. This time, you fold your garments carelessly, setting them atop the pile in disarray. Your chemise is the only barrier left, and with a quick, almost desperate motion, you lift it and tuck it high enough not to disturb. A shiver traces down your spine as the cool air kisses your exposed skin.

No matter how many times you do this, the moment you lay yourself bare before him always feels the same.

Carefully, you lower yourself again onto the medical chair. Your hands grip the edges for a brief moment before you let out a slow breath and part your legs. Just enough to grant him access to your most private parts.

His eyes are fixed on your legs, dark and unreadable. You know it means nothing. He is always cold and professional, never shows any interest in you. These sessions are just another medical appointment for him. And yet, something about the way his gaze lingers on the space between your thighs makes your stomach twist.

Then, suddenly, he coughs, as if snapping himself out of a trance. Without a word, he turns, reaching for the oil bottle he set on the side table earlier. The glass gives a soft clink when he uncorks it. Tilting the bottle, he pours a small amount of oil into his gloved hand, rubbing his hands together to spread it. The leather of his gloves creaks as his fingers flex, testing the oil’s consistency.

He moves to stand at your left. “Ready?”

You nod.

When you finally feel his touch, your fingers grip harder the arms of the chair. The smooth leather of his glove drags along your inner thigh, cool at first and warming with each stroke. The sensation sends a shiver through your body. Your legs twitch involuntarily.

“You’re unusually tense today.”

You part your lips to respond, but the words tangle in your throat the moment he moves his hand again. His fingers slide lower, skimming along your entrance, just barely touching you before retreating. Your breath hitches, but you force yourself to steady it. “It’s nothing, truly… I’ve just had too much on my mind lately.” A pause, then, quieter: “Please… continue.”

He doesn’t respond. Not with words, at least. Instead, he shifts slightly, his hand finally finding your core. His fingers glide through your slick folds, the oil on his gloves mixing with your arousal. You are already so wet.

You bite your lip to suppress a gasp, nails digging into the armrests.

“Still tense,” he notes, the corner of his mouth quirking upward. “You need to relax.”

He brings his thumb to your clit and gives it an experimental rub. The touch sends a jolt through your body, instinct drawing your thighs together–but his free hand is already there, keeping you open. You know this is part of the treatment, but for some time now, this has stopped being just a treatment for you. A guilty pulse of pleasure trickles low in your belly, shame following close behind.

“There,” he murmurs to himself. The hand on your leg slides up to rest on your hip.

Zayne’s fingers resume their motion, rubbing your clit in soft circles. Occasionally, he increases the pressure, making your breath falter. You bite your lip hard enough to almost draw blood. You can barely hold back your moans.

You look at him. His eyes have been locked on your soft cunt, watching as it clenches around nothing. A glistening sheen of arousal coats your folds, trailing down the curve of your ass. His index finger traces a slow path between your lips, and when the tip brushes over your entrance, you let out a quiet, startled squeak, your hips jerking away in protest.

“Just let go,” he commands.

Zayne stops his movement to spread your lips and stare at your winking hole, rubbing it with one of his fingers before gently prodding at it. A quiet whimper escapes your lips when he slips a finger inside you. He starts working your tight hole with his long finger, watching how your eyebrows knit at the intrusion. Each time he pushes in, his palm grinds down on your sensitive clit, sending small waves of pleasure until you fully relaxed under his touch. When he thinks you’re ready, he slides in a second finger, stretching you just enough to make you gasp. Your head falls back against the chair. Each movement of his fingers draws a helpless moan from your lips, your body betraying you as it rocks into his hand.

His fingers caress and press against your spongy walls. A shudder wracks your body as he angles them upward, rubbing that certain spot inside you that sends sparks flashing behind your eyes. Then, he brings his other hand down, to give more attention to your clit. You are breathless, trying to maintain your composure. His thumb back and forth against your clit, the mixture of oil and your own arousal creating the perfect lubricant as he abuses your sensitive bud.

“Dr. Li…” you whisper, voice trembling.

His fingers stop.

He looks up, finally meeting your eyes. His pupils are blown out, his usual mask of indifference cracking.

“What is it?” His voice is quieter now.

You don’t know what to answer. You don’t even know what you are asking for. All you know is that you can’t take it anymore. Your body is aching for release, but not just the kind he’s offering. You want more.

Before you can stop yourself, your hands shoot forward, clutching the front of his coat. Your fingers curl into the thick fabric, desperate. Impulse overtook reason, and before you know it, your hands yank him down, your lips crashing against his. For the first time, Zayne hesitates. His breath catches, and for a fleeting moment, his body remains stiff beneath your touch. But you don’t let go. Instead, you draw him closer, the feverish need in your chest growing with every second.

Then, just when you think he might pull away, he gives in.

His hands move to your waist, fingers pressing into the curve of your body. His mouth parts against yours, devouring you with all the pent-up hunger and lust that has been eating him away. He tastes of mint with the faintest hint of clove, warm and heavy against your tongue. His hand slides up to cradle the back of your head, tilting it to deepen the kiss. You melt into him, letting him take exactly what he wants.

This time, there is no hesitation. His fingers slip into your wet cunt with ease. A low sound rumbles in his throat when he feels your nails dig into his back. Now he works you faster, harder, his palm pressing firmly against your already abused clit. All your moans are swallowed between his lips, each gasp making him go even faster. You are close and he knows it.

Zayne doesn't pull away. If anything, his grip on you tightens. The air between you is thick—charged with something unspoken, something neither of you had dared acknowledge until now. The lewd sounds of your mingling breaths and entwined tongues have your knees feeling like jelly. You are lucky that you’re lying down, otherwise, you’d be struggling to stand.

You let out a muffled gasp as his hand—the same one that has been inside of you just moments ago—begins its descent once more, trailing over the curve of your thigh.

Zayne doesn’t stop. He works you through it, his fingers gliding in hard thrusts, prolonging your release as your slick drips down his gloved hand. Your fingers loosen their grip on his back as the aftershocks shudder through you, your body spent. He finally stills, fingers slipping from your soaked entrance with an obscene wet sound. He pulls back just enough to take you in. His dark eyes trace over your body—the sweat covering your skin, the way your chest rises and falls, the dazed look in your eyes. His breath is uneven. He brings his hand up and flexes his fingers, observing the way your juices coated the leather. A muscle in his jaw ticks.

Zayne breaks the kiss just enough to murmur against your lips, his breath warm and unsteady. “Come.”

Your back arches off the chair, legs trembling violently. A sharp cry tires from your throat as your climax finally crashes over you, white-hot bliss crushing through every nerve in your body. Your cunt is pulsating around his long fingers, squeezing and releasing as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you.

And then—your breath stutters, heart pounding, as he brings his hand to his lips.

He slips the two fingers that fucked your cunt between his lips, tongue flicking out to taste you. He groans, a deep satisfied hum vibrating in his throat. He doesn’t break eye contact. When he pulls his fingers free, a thin string of saliva glistens between them before breaking.

You almost faint at the sight.

He licks his lips to chase the last races of your taste from his lips. He turns around for a moment to take off the used gloves; then, he turns back at you.

“Can I kiss you again?” His voice is low, rougher than before.

Then, just as you think he might pull away, his lips break from yours—only to trail lower. A breathless gasp escapes you when he moves to your jaw, then down the line of your throat. His mouth is hot against your skin, lips and tongue tracing a slow, searing path over your pulse. When he reaches the curve of your neck, he parts his lips, sucking lightly before his teeth scrape over the sensitive skin. His hands move down your chest, searching for the buttons of your blouse.

The question punches the air from your lungs. As if he even needs to ask. You would never deny him. Your lips part, but no words come out—just a desperate nod, shaky and immediate.

In a blink, he’s on you, claiming your mouth with more hunger than before. You can taste yourself in his tongue, and it feels hotter than you'd ever imagine. His lips move against yours with desperation, this time he isn’t holding back. Every movement, every flick of his tongue, unravels you further. You can feel yourself getting wet again.

“May I?”

You nod.

He continues attacking your neck as he undoes each button. Once the blouse is gone, he peels away your chemise. Your entire body is now completely bare to him. The cool of the air sweeps over your already-hardening nipples. He pulls away to gaze down at you. He doesn’t say a word. Just outright oggles you with raw, unfiltered desire.

He lowers his head and presses an open-mouthed kiss to your collarbone. Then another, just below your throat. Then, lower. His lips end up finding the swell of your breast, and he pauses, flicking his gaze up to yours before dragging his tongue across the sensitive skin. You moan when he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking gently before grazing it with his teeth. While he continues kissing, licking, and sucking your nipple, he moves one of his hands to cup your other breast. He lightly pinches your nipple, tugging it upwards. Your fingers tangle into his dark hair, nails scraping against his scalp as he lavishes attention on your breasts. Each flick of his tongue and pinch of his fingers send jolts of pleasure through you, pooling once again between your legs.

But he doesn’t stop there.

His mouth starts to trail lower, kissing a path down your stomach, his hands skimming along your sides as he descends.

“Dr. Li–” you gasp surprised, you don’t understand what he’s doing.

“Zayne,” he corrects. “You may call me Zayne.”

Your cheeks burn. You never have before. He was always Dr. Li, your physician, the man meant to bring you back to good health. But something about the way his name rolls off his own tongue makes your stomach twist.

“Zayne…” You whisper, barely audible.

His movements resume. He finally settles between your thighs, his breath is warm against your most sensitive place. He looks up at you. “Has your husband ever done this to you?”

You blink, heart pounding. “What do you mean?”

His lips curve into a smug smirk before he kisses your inner thigh, just above your knee. Then he presses another kiss, a little higher. And higher. And higher.

“Ah!”

Then, finally, you feel something warm and wet pressed against your cunt. His tongue.

Your entire body jolts at the sensation. You've never felt anything like this before. The tip of his tongue parts your slick folds slowly, and your thighs instinctively try to close.

“This… this isn’t…” Your thoughts scramble. This feels so nice but so dirty.

“Relax.”

And with that, he places a sensual kiss on your clit. He grabs it between his lips and begins sucking it while he rolls it between his tongue. You trap his head between your legs, involuntarily pulling him closer. He throws your legs over his shoulder to keep you steady.

“Mmh, you taste so good,” he mumbles against your entrance, not taking longer than a second before his tongue is on it again.

“Ah, Zayne…”

His hands move to your hips to lift you, pressing your cunt closer to his mouth, feasting like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have. His eyes are on you, drinking from your reactions. You’re moaning uncontrollably, hands messing his black hair and back arching. You can’t help but roll your hips into his mouth.

“Pretty,” he moans, muffled by the flesh of your wet pussy.

You almost come when he dips his tongue inside you. He can now feel your tightness in his tongue, and he wonders how would you feel around his cock. Maybe another day, he thinks. Now his main goal is to get you undone just with his mouth. You feel your eyes roll back into your head as his tongue delves deeper.

Your thighs tremble around his head. His fingers dig into your flesh possessively, keeping you spread open and flush against him.

“You’re close.” He can feel it. The way your body tightens, the way you pull at his hair harder, the way your moans turn into breathless gasps…

“Zayne–” Your voice is nothing more than a whimper.

He hums against you, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure. You’re about to fall over the edge when he pulls away. You cry out in frustration, your hips instinctively lifting in search of his mouth.

“Patience.”

Before you can protest, his fingers replace his tongue inside you. His fingers begin to fuck you hard as his tongue massages your clit one last time.

“Come for me,” he commands. “Now.”

And with one final stroke, you cream all over his face.

[sinofwriting]

Points Have Been Made - Charles Leclerc/Reader/Max Verstappen

Words: 3,363 Summary: Max and Charles find out something happened to their girlfriend. Note(s): Thank you Mak for commissioning this! Mentions of medical stuff, infertility (not reader). One German word, one Dutch word, some French words. Jenson Button appears in this fic, because uh, well, I love him and honestly, I’d like to think (write) him having a weird soft spot for Max (and Charles) after seeing him more recently around Logan.

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“Max.”

He lets out a hum, his focus on the car and racing line into turn nine.

“Box box.”

“What?” His eyes flick up to where a yellow or red flag would be waved but there isn’t anything. “I’ve only done three laps on these tires.”

“Box box.”

His brows furrow beneath his helmet and balaclava at the non-answer.

Pulling off the track and into the pit lane, his fingers tap against the wheel as they pull his car back into the garage. He sits there expecting the mechanics to make some sort of adjustments but instead they start doing what they do at the end of a session, cooling the car down, prepping it for its next use.

He feels a slight pressure to the top of his helmet and then GP is in his line of sight, leaning into his space and car, perfectly helping to cover him with the mechanics and engineers, so the camera can’t see inside. “Something happened, Max. Session is over for you.”

His heart starts thudding in his chest, panic threatening to overtake him. “What happened?” His voice is muffled by the helmet but he knows that GP hears it from the way his frown deepens.

“Out of the car, Max. We’re doing our best to not let cameras see in, but who knows how long that will last.”

Max looks at the mechanics and engineers and only now takes note of how they’re standing. It’s a carefully constructed wall, not allowing the cameras to see him at all. “Alright.” He murmurs.

He focuses on his hands as he disconnects the steering wheel, resting it on top of the car before pulling his gloves off. He doesn’t know why but he expects them to be shaking, but they’re perfectly still, like always. Jaw clenched, he stands, bending at the waist to grab the steering wheel and put it back on before hopping out of the car.

It’s odd to take his helmet off, passing it gratefully to Annie who whisks it and his gloves away.

“What happened?” He asks GP again.

A hand is pressed against his back, pushing him to walk and he does. Undoing the near too tight collar of the race suit as he walks. It’s only once they’ve nearly disappeared behind the wall, where outside cameras aren’t allowed that GP speaks. “It’s about Y/N.” And the rug disappears out from underneath his feet.

—

“I’m okay, mama. I promise.” She says, tucking the phone between her shoulder and ear as she rubs at her head.

“You’re sick. And I know that neither Max or Charles is with you.”

“I will be okay, I’m a big girl.”

“You're my baby.”

Her heart clenches at her mom’s words. All of her friends growing up and even some now all thought of her mother as overbearing, with the weekly phone calls, daily check-ins and texts, but she was her mother’s only child. She grew up knowing that she was supposed to have siblings, that she was never supposed to be an only child, but it hadn’t worked that way for her mother and it had made her protective of her only child.

“I know, mama. But I’m okay.” Her words nearly flatter as a wave of dizziness hits her, but she pushes it away, clutching at the counter with her left hand as her right rubs at her temple. “The weather just changed here in Monaco. Y’know how that goes.”

Her mom makes a noise, not believing her.

“Pascale will be coming over for dinner, to check on me. Charles’ orders. Will you believe her?”

“Oh, kindchen.” Her voice is soft, so reminiscent of her childhood. “It is not that I don’t believe you. It is that you are always the last to notice when you are unwell.”

“I will be okay and she will text you to update you. Now go to your book club. I know that it is today.”

“It’s not a book club!”

“It’s a book club, mama.” She laughs, wincing immediately at the way the movement makes her feel unsteady.

“I’ll call you first thing tomorrow alright?”

“Alright.” She agrees. “Love you.”

“I love you too.”

As soon as her mom hangs up, she takes a deep ragged breath. Her hand on her forehead, that’s damp now with sweat which makes her nose wrinkles, grasps at her phone before setting it on the counter.

It’s only when it knocks into something she realizes she’s had her eyes closed and she doesn’t know for how long. Opening them, she blinks at how bright the kitchen is. Turning her head slowly, her nose wrinkles up again at how the sun is positioned in the sky. No wonder it was so bright.

Letting go of the counter and taking a step towards the living room, she swears when a wave of dizziness rushes over again and she’s clutching at the counter again. The edge of it digging into both of her palms.

“Fuck.” She breathes when it’s passed. She watches as a bead of sweat drips off of her onto arm. She needed a shower. She needed to shower before Pascale got here. With the reminder of Pascale coming in a few hours she takes a few more deep breaths before letting go of the counter and walking.

Only it isn’t just a wave of dizziness that hits her, but a tidal wave and before she can catch herself, she falls to the floor, head hitting the tile hard and knocking her out.

—

“What happened to her?” Max asks, feet seeming to be glued to the floor as GP tries to push him deeper. “GP, what happened?”

GP looks around before leaning into his space, a hand on the back of his neck pressing, and Max lets him push his head down. “Pascale found her passed out, she hit her head on the way down. They’re still waiting for test results.”

“But,” His mind is whirling, trying and failing to understand what is happening. “Where is Charles?”

If GP is surprised by his next question he doesn’t show it. “He’s still out there. He just about told Xavi to fuck himself when Xavi told him to abort his lap.”

Normally that would make Max smirk, chuckle but he can’t be bothered. “I need to tell him. He can’t hear it from Xavi or Fred.”

“Andrea was going to tell him.”

Max shakes his head. “She’s in Monaco. Charles can’t find out by himself.” He looks at GP pleadingly and the older man nods.

“I know, go and get out of your race suit and you can go right on over. Fred is expecting you.”

Max quickly claps GP on the shoulder. “Thank you. Thank you.” He rushes to say again as he moves quickly to his room.

—

Charles is grinning as his car is pulled into the garage. He doesn’t know what Xavi was thinking, telling him to abandon that lap. It was amazing. And yes he knew that his session was over, cut short due to a new setup that they wanted to try out, but it was fine. This track had always treated him nicely and with this car, it would hopefully even treat him to a win or he mused considering Max, second place.

Climbing out of the car and pulling his gloves and then helmet off, he doesn’t notice the way the engineers and mechanics are blocking the cameras from seeing anything, or the worried looks from Fred and Xavi. He just notices the worry on Andrea’s face when he catches sight of Max, standing just out of sight if you look into the garage, close to where the drivers rooms are. And he does notice the look on Max’s face, it makes his stomach drop and he rushes to him, not even murmuring a thank you to Jean who takes his helmet and gloves from him.

“Max,” he breathes, hands fluttering before they rest gently on his face. “What happened, mon coeur?”

“Charles,” his name is broken up by a stuttered breath.

“Did something happen to Sophie? Vic? Luke? Leo? Jos?”

Max shakes his head at every name.

Dread fills him even more. “Y/N?”

Max’s eyes close and he nods.

“No.”

“Charles.” Andrea’s voice is in his ear, ushering him forward. “Let’s get you both somewhere private.”

He nods, letting his hands fall away from Max’s face, though he can’t help but to grab Max’s hand, intertwining their fingers, needing the touch, and Max clearly does too with the way he squeezes his hand back.

As soon as his driver’s room door shuts, Andrea speaks again before Charles can ask anything.

“Pascale called me maybe ten minutes ago. She went over to yours for dinner, to check on Y/N and found her passed out on the kitchen floor.”

Charles makes a wounded noise and his already tight grip on Max’s hand grows worse and the barely older man doesn’t even wince or jump. Doesn’t seem to notice.

“They’re at the hospital.” Andrea’s voice is somehow even gentler than before when he says it.

“They are at?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, maman.” He murmurs, feeling tears prick his eyes and Max drops his hand, wrapping an arm around him, bringing him close.

“They are waiting for test results.” Max says. “GP made me box. He told me and I rushed over here.”

“I,” Charles shudders. “Is she okay? I mean she passed out on the floor. How?”

“I don’t know. They only just got there or at least that’s what it sounded like.”

Charles nods.

“Thank you, Andrea. For getting a hold of GP.”

Andrea sends Max a look. “Of course, Max.”

Andrea leaves the room, leaving them alone and Max as soon as the door shuts, wraps Charles completely in a hug, holding him tight as he tries to comfort himself with at least having one of his partners healthy and safe in his arms.

“I,” Charles struggles again. “I should call someone to go be with maman. She shouldn’t be there alone. Not at least till I can get there.”

“Charles,” Max starts to say and Charles shakes his head, pushing away.

“No, Max. I know it is a race weekend. But it is just a two-hour flight away, I can be back before qualifying if it is not too bad.”

“Charles,” he tries again.

“I have to go. I can’t just be here while she is unwell.”

“Charles,” and this time Max is holding his face, making him incapable of speaking. “I am going with you. Fuck the race. If it is bad, it is not like we will lose our spots in the championship. Everyone else is more than forty points behind, we will be fine. Let me call my pilot, the jet will be ready by the time we get to the airport.”

“Merci, Max.” Charles breaths, pressing their lips together. “Merci.”

—

“Pascale?” She mumbles when she opens her eyes and sees the woman sitting beside her. “Did I fall asleep?”

She tries to sit up but her head aches, making her groan, and Pascale is gently pushing her back down. “Lay down, sweetheart.”

“What?” Her eyes wander around the room as she realizes this isn’t her, Max, and Charles shared place. It’s far too clean, sterile. She tries to lift her arm and winces when there’s a tugging sensation. Her eyes fall to her arm and more confusion builds as she sees an IV. “Pascale, what happened?”

“I found you passed out on the kitchen floor.”

“But,” she couldn’t have passed out. Right? Her mind struggled to remember it. She knew she had been feeling dizzy, but enough to pass out. “Are we at the hospital?”

“We are.” Pascale’s hand pats hers. “I will be right back. I’m going to get the nurse, okay?”

She nods and as Pascale darts out the room, her eyes land on someone sitting just outside her room. “Jenson?”

—

“Anything new?”

Charles shakes his head, frowning at his phone. “Like before, they knew that she was dehydrated as soon as she came in but they are still waiting for everything else to come back.”

“What is taking so long? Is it money?” Max runs his hand through his hair, before he looks at Charles. “Call them, the hospital. Throw your name around, prince of Monaco.”

“Max.” Charles hisses. “I am not the prince of Monaco. And I can’t call them. Nothing will happen if I call.” He huffs, slumping back in his seat.

It’s silent for a moment.

“Are you,”

“Yes, I’m sure, Max.” He reaches over and squeezes Max’s hand before tangling their fingers together, lifting them to give him a kiss. “We will be there soon.”

—

She tries her best to focus on the doctor as they examine her but her eyes keep going to Jenson. Now inside of her room and standing in the corner, arms crossed over his chest as he watches intently.

“You have a mild concussion from the fall. The back of your head will be tender.”

“But why did she faint?”

The doctor frowns, “Normally I’d have the answer for you. But our lab is abnormally backed up and we are down to one lab technician. As soon as the results are in, I will be back to give them to you.”

“Take your time.” She smiles.

Jenson shakes his head when the doctor leaves. “How does Monaco, of all places, have only one lab technician working?”

“Jenson, what are you doing here?”

He smiles at her, coming closer to her and bending quickly to press a kiss to her cheek. “Max texted me. Asked me to keep you and Pascale company. I was already here in Monaco.”

She smiles at the older driver. He and Max’s friendship wasn’t too well known, but they talked often. Then she frowns, because Max had asked him. “Max asked you?” Her eyes then look over at Pascale.

“I texted Andrea.”

She nods. “Can you tell them I’m okay? There is no need to worry.”

“Sweetheart.”

“Pascale, I’m okay. I haven’t felt dizzy since I woke up, my head hurts a little from the concussion that’s all.”

Before Pascale can respond her attention is drawn away by the sound of the room door practically being thrown up and two voices on top of each other.

“Chérie!”

“Schat!”

—

“We were so worried.” Charles murmurs, holding her face gently.

“How is your head feeling?” Max asks, sitting beside her on the bed, arm wrapped around her.

“I’m okay.” She smiles at both of them. “My head hurts a bit, but that will go away soon enough.”

Charles frowns, fingers gently brushing over her cheekbones, before he drops his hands to hold both of hers. “Are you sure? I’m sure we could get you some meds.”

“I’m sure, Prince Charles could get you some meds.” Max whispers in her ear making her laugh while Charles sends him a dirty look, though a smile is playing on his lips.

“Don’t listen to him, chérie.”

She smiles at Charles, carefully leaning forward to press their lips together. Before being even more careful as she turns her head to kiss Max.

“Thank you both for coming.”

“Of course.”

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Charles and her both look at Max, eyebrows raised.

“Okay, I can think of places I’d rather we be.” He admits.

Charles shakes his head, “so silly.” He murmurs, leaning across her to kiss Max. “Now, why don’t we have your test results back yet?”

“There’s a backlog.” Jenson says, grinning when Charles jumps at the sound of his voice. “Max sent me over to keep them company as soon as you guys figured out the game plan.”

Charles’ entire face softens and Max flushes at the look their boyfriend sends him.

“And they only have one lab technician.”

Max lets out a curse. “Did you try bribing them?”

“I could go try if you’d like.”

Max starts to nod, but a knock sounds on the door and it opens.

She watches as the doctor blinks at the two new people in her room but ignores them, focusing on her. “I’ve got your results right here. Hypoglycemia. Low blood sugar and I mean very low blood sugar. When’s the last time you ate?”

Her brows furrow.

She remembered eating Tuesday night with Max and Charles before they left. A nice dinner that her and Max made, Charles pouring them more drinks or chopping and stirring things. But she had eaten something the next morning hadn’t she? Her head throbs as she thinks, but she ignores it, trying to remember and winces from both the pain and the realization that she hadn’t eaten anything since Tuesday night.

“Tuesday night. I was going to eat breakfast on Wednesday but we were out of my breakfast bars and then I got so busy and I just wasn’t hungry.”

“Are you not hungry often?”

“Sometimes. But even then I make sure to eat at least one meal a day, I snack throughout. I’ve never done this before.”

They nod. “As long as this isn’t a normal occurrence, I don’t see an issue. But, you need to make sure you are eating often. You don’t want to be back in here because you forgot to eat and it made your blood sugar drop.”

“Of course. Thank you so much.”

They nod. “I’ll get your discharge paperwork done and as soon as you’re finished with the bag, you’ll be free to go.”

—

“When are you guys flying back?” She asks, Max’s head in her lap, her fingers combing through his hair as she leans against Charles.

Max makes a face. “We won’t be.”

Charles and him had both talked about it as they got Pascale home and she settled in. Their teams would be unhappy, but it wasn’t like they could be overtaken in the championship. They could live. And they had two weeks after this with no racing. Two weeks where they could make sure she was eating, taking care of herself. And she’d be going to the next race anyway. This had been a sort of one-off due to all the things that had piled up at home.

“What do you mean you won’t be?”

“We can miss a race. Max is twenty points ahead of me, I am forty-seven points ahead of Oscar.”

“I have so many questions about that.” She murmurs, because god what was this season. Checo barely hung onto fourth in the championship with George hunting him down, Lewis and Lando hunting down George. Barely fifteen points collectively separating third to seventh.

Charles snorts. “Many people would like to know the same.”

“You should go though. Put more of a lead in the points.”

Max and Charles share a look, a bit hard with their positions but they manage. “No.” They both agree.

“I can survive not even two days. I’ll go stay with Pascale. Have Arthur stay with me. Or Jenson since he’s here in Monaco.”

“No.” They say again at the same time.

“You are far more important than another twenty-five or eighteen points.” Max continues.

She sighs, looking at them both. “Three stubborn people is way too many people in a relationship.”

“I think it’s perfect.”

“Suck up.” Max coughs and Charles flicks him on the forehead.

“Says you.”

“Boys, settle down.”

“Love you.” They chorus.

She shakes her head, sighing. “If you will not go without me, I will just go with you.”

“You have a concussion.”

“A mild concussion. And we all know that you have flown before with a concussion, Charles.”

He pouts, “it was just once.”

“Twice.” Max coughs and Charles flicks him again.

“I will go with you tomorrow. Just please make the flight later than eight am.”

“Done.” Max says, already texting his flight crew.

“Thank you.” She starts to bend to kiss Max, when her face is redirected to look at Charles and he kisses her.

She expects Max to whine but as soon as Charles is done, Max is turning her head the other way, no longer laying in her lap, to kiss her as well.

[themattgirl]

could you please make one where Chris and reader are dating and reader feels sick and Chris just takes care of her and acts all sweet and stuff? 🫠

an: thank you for the request ily 🧡

this turned out so much longer than i intended

this isn’t my first one shot but it’s the first with one of the sturniolo triplets in it. 

obviously their characters have been altered by me a little to fit into the story but i tried to make it as realistic as possible by keeping their personality traits as they are in real life.

also comment or like this post if you want to be added to the taglist

pairing: chris x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings: fluff, use of ‘babe’ and ‘ma’ as pet names for reader, intentional wrong spelling in text messages to make it more realistic, mentions of nsfw themes, swearing, lots of playful teasing between characters

y/n’s dialogue  

chris’ dialogue

matt’s dialogue

nick’s dialogue

mary lou’s dialogue

“it’s just a cold, nothing serious i promise. i don’t think i can come over today though, i don’t wanna infect any of you. i’m sorry for ruining movie night,” i say to chris on facetime before breaking into a cough. i turn the camera away from me, not wanting him to see me in a disgusting state like this. if i could, i would’ve muted myself so he doesn’t have to listen to it either. plus, i know how worried he gets with any type of sickness or unwell feeling really.

so, of course it wouldn’t be chris if he didn’t immediately furrow his brows.

“babe no, don’t apologize. you didn’t choose to get sick.”

he gets up from where he was sitting on the couch and goes downstairs to his bedroom. he puts the phone down so all i can see now is his ceiling. his voice sounds a little farther away when he speaks again, “it doesn’t really sound like nothing serious, does anything hurt?”

“to be honest, my whole body has been aching since i woke up this morning. it’s not too bad, just a dull ache, i can still move and all that, even if i’d prefer to just lay here and rot away,” i laugh and hold back the cough that wants to escape right after in hopes it would make him worry a little less. vainly.

“your voice sounds stuffy and kinda hoarse, does your throat hurt?”

“i forgot you turn into a doctor every time somebody doesn’t feel great,” i roll my eyes even though he can’t see it with his phone still down and him on the other side of the room from how distant his voice sounds.

“shut up, y/n. you feel worse than ‘not great’. you’re not fooling anyone with that act.”

he reappears on the screen. now i can see what he has been doing in the time i couldn’t see him. he put on a hoodie over the tank top he had been wearing before, the hair he had put up in a little ponytail - if you could even call it that - in the front has been untied and brushed. or maybe he just ran his fingers through his hair a couple of times, that’d be more like it.

“anyways baby, imma call mom real quick. be right back,” he hangs up before i get the chance to respond.

i put the phone down next to me on the bed i’ve been in since i realized this morning how much it hurt to stand up and how i felt like i was gonna throw up every time i moved too hastily.

i took a deep breath - well, as deep as a breath can get when your nose is clogged - and closed my eyes to try and concentrate on something other than the throbbing pain in my head.

i feel so much worse than how i described it to chris and i feel bad for kind of lying to him, i do. but he has been dealing with so much of his own lately - new designs for his brand, fixing the shipping issues with some of the orders from his last drop, coming up with video ideas and prefilming those before him, nick and matt go on tour again, preparing everything for said tour - see, he really doesn’t need me to add to his things-to-worry-about-list, especially if he can’t do anything to fix it and it’ll go away on its own anyway.

i feel my phone’s vibration from somewhere in between the sheets and grab it. it's messages from nick.

hey y/n heard your not feeling so good (:/ smiley) i was really excited to see you again today but don’t you dare feel guilty for it

i know how you guilt trip yourself into thinking everything is your fault

its kind of a good thing bc now i have time to get the matching pjs we wanted

hope you feel better soon tho

matts sick too maybe you got it from him when you helped him decorate his room yesterday

I hey y/n heard your not feeling so good 😕 i was really excited to see you again today but don’t you dare feel guilty for it

word spreads faaast 😂 i’m so sad i gotta wait another week or so to see you again i only like sleepovers cuz of u but dont tell chris 🤫

I i know how you guilt trip yourself into thinking everything is your fault

seriously i hate that yk me so well 😐

I its kind of a good thing bc now i have time to get the matching pjs we wanted

at first i was like 🤨 but then i kept reading i LOVE YOUU SO MUCH OMG just so yk chris was the second option

I hope you feel better soon tho

me too now i’m excited for the pajamaaas 😫

I matts sick too maybe you got it from him when you helped him decorate his room yesterday 🤔

i’m gonna kill him like fr this time

hey where tf is chris??

talking to mom shes teaching him sth honestly don’t ask idk

ok 😂 i think im gonna take a nap talk later?

yess get some rest and lmk if you need anything ❤️

ly❤️❤️

after sending the last message i get a call from matt. i contemplate not picking up for a second but decide against it.

“what?”

“uff, what’s that attitude?”

“i’m sick because of you, shithead.”

“we don’t know that. what if you’re the one who passed it on to me, hm? besides, i was just calling to tell you to drink some water and to ask if you need anything. i was actually being nice but you clearly don’t deserve it,” his voice is just as bad as mine, if not worse which makes me feel a little bad, but matt wouldn’t be one of my best friends if i had to worry about him getting mad every time i’m not nice. that’s actually how we bonded after annoying each other every chance we got. we both have a bit of an attitude problem which caused a lot of irritation and aggravation. now we get along better than any pair of best friends. the teasing stayed in place, but now we both know there’s only endless love behind it. sometimes you just gotta let off a bit of steam and we both just get that.

“fine, i’m sorry. sickness really does turn you soft, huh?” i smirk.

“why’re you saying it like you just confirmed a theory?”

“mary lou told me once and i’ve been waiting ever since to see for myself, guess she was right.”

“you are actually the worst. i’m hanging up now. drink water, bye.”

he hangs up the phone and i laugh to myself. what a big baby.

i open chris’ chat and type in a message telling him i’m going to sleep and that i will call him once i wake up again. i don’t bother waiting for a reply and just put the phone on my nightstand. i turn on my side, close my eyes and after that i don’t notice anything anymore.

i jolt up from bed, breathing heavy, body sweaty and heart racing. my room is dark, lit up only by the moon shining through my window. i look around trying to remember where i am and shake the nightmare from my mind.

i reach for my phone and check the time.

11:43 pm

i turn on the flashlight and right when i notice a black jacket hung over the back of my desk chair i hear footsteps coming closer.

chris pushes the door open and steps in.

“oh shit, did i wake you?”

“no i had a nightmare. what are doing here?”

i sit upright in bed and turn the flashlight off when chris flips the switch to turn on the fairy lights around the edges of my ceiling.

he moves to sit on the bed next to me before he answers, “i had mom teach me how to make her get-well-quick-soup and brought you some. she also told me about the perfect remedy tea, i can make it for you,” he stands up again immediately, “i’ll heat up the soup for you first. shit ma, have you even eaten anything today?” he stands by the door, holding the handle but looking back over his shoulder at me.

“chris,” i honestly don’t know what to say to him. he is so sweet i have to fight the tears that build up on my waterline. i just look at him for a moment, a little smile ghosting on my lips.

i’m well aware of how caring, considerate and compassionate chris is as a person in general, but it still baffles me sometimes how much he goes out of his way to make others feel good. i guess i’m just not used to it, being loved like this, having someone do everything that lies in their hands - and beyond that - just for me. it’s astonishing to say the least. especially when i myself have had issues with showing how deeply i cherish somebody ever since i can remember. it’s probably rooted somewhere in my past and how my affection has been received and responded to, that’s what my therapist says anyway.

i shake myself out of my thoughts and move the blanket away from my body to finally get up. immediately chris is beside me, holding me in place, “what’re you doing, ma? stay here i’ll bring it up,” he talks quietly, trying to get me to take in my previous lying position but i stay put on the ground.

“babe, i have been in this bed almost all day. i need to get up. i’ll just come down with you, we can eat together in the kitchen,” i try to convince him.

he looks at me, an uncertain expression on his face for a few seconds, the gears in his head almost visibly turning while he thinks about it. at last he lets out a sigh and nods, “alright then, hop on my back,” he bends over in a piggy back position in front of me and i can’t help the laugh that escapes me.

“you do know i can walk, right?” i ask still chuckling.

“i know, come ooon, just do it,” he urges me on and wiggles his hips, making me laugh even harder when i climb on his back.

“you’re gonna be so sick tomorrow, chris,” i complain mournfully once he lets me down to sit on the kitchen counter while he gets to heating up the soup he brought.

chris insists he’s not prone to catch a cold or any sickness easily, no matter how contagious or how close to the source he might be, even though he has proven himself wrong multiple times on more occasions than he cares to admit.

“no i won’t. besides, i could use a few days off even if i have to be sick to get that,” he lets out a huff of air trying to make it sound humorous, but both of us - and everyone who knows chris for that matter - knows that he is exhausted and is in desperate need of a break.

i know he doesn’t want me to get serious about that topic right now though so i try to change routes, “oh my god,” he turns around from where he was stirring the soup on the stove and faces me, confused about my shocked exclamation. i point an accusatory finger at him, my jaw hanging low but a smile still creeping it’s way on my face.

“so that’s why you’re here. you came to try and get infected, that’s why you carried me down too even though you know damn well i coulda walked by myself. and i’m here thinking you were actually being the best boyfriend on earth. turns out my man is a piece of shit,” by the end i fail to stay serious and let out a giggle. well, it’s not like he actually believed that i meant what i was saying but still.

he lets go of everything he was holding, turns around to me fully and begins to stalk toward me slowly.

“oh yeah?” i don’t know if it’s just me or if he’s doing it on purpose but all of a sudden his voice sounds deeper, his face more stern and serious.

“is that what you think then? i’m just a piece of shit?” he makes me nervous at first but the second i see the smirk on his lips i know exactly what’s about to follow.

“chris. no.”

he is standing right in front of me, so close he has positioned himself in between my legs, his hands on the counter on either side of me, trapping me. the finger i was pointing at him long since taken back.

“am i a piece of shit when i make you cum with just my tongue?” his face is so close now.

“stop,” i say quieter than i mean to, almost whisper-like.

“or when i fuck you so good you can’t walk right for days, am i a piece of shit then?”

this asshole is doing it on purpose. he knows i would never have sex with him when i’m sick so he’s trying to rile me up the little fucker. have i mentioned that i actually hate him. like for real hate him. the type of hate that leads to an absolutely mindblowing fuck. shit.

“or yesterday when you told matt you needed a break and came downstairs to my room to suck me off and then you just wiped your mouth and went back up like nothing happened. did you do it because i’m a piece of shit?”

my jaw is on the floor.

“or when–”

“OKAY,” i practically scream, “you’re the best and i didn’t mean what i said, just please stop.”

i’m almost whining at this point.

i try to rub my legs together to ease some of the friction unnoticeably but chris is like a hawk, sees everything, notices everything. and then he smiles. just smiles and goes back to the soup.

later that night, after i was forced to eat almost all of the soup and drink two cups of magic tea while chris downed a cheese burger, fries and three of the last four pepsi cans i had in my fridge, we snuggled up on the couch with a heavy blanket that chris had also asked his mom for, thrown over both of our laps and a random movie playing on the tv. 

neither one of us actually felt like watching something but we threw it on as background noise anyway. chris and i have barely seen each other in almost two weeks so all we want right now is to enjoy each other's company. he has been so busy with all that’s coming up for him and his brothers, still is. and i've been studying like crazy because i always feel like i won’t pass if i don’t and when i wasn’t busy with that i’d be at work to earn my living and feel like i’m doing enough. so there wasn't really time for us to actually be together and get to enjoy it. i've missed it.

“you know you’re probably sick because you exhaust yourself all the time,” chris says when he turns to look at me.

“shh,” i shush him with my eyes closed and a smile on my lips, “i got it from matt, no discussion.”

he lets out a little laugh at that, “yes discussion. if you keep going like that, one day it’s gonna have more serious effects on your health than a cold. you don’t even need to do all that. how many times do i have to tell you your life is worth enough even if you don’t work yourself half to death and have a little fun every once in a while,” he rubs my thigh while talking. chris knows better than anyone that i don’t like being put on the spot and lectured about my not-so-healthy habits like that, especially when i know exactly that it’s in fact very unhealthy. but he also insists on having these talks with me because he knows i would shut out everyone else who’d dare to try immediately. he and his brothers are the only three people i have let come so close and they make use of that quite often, might i say. but it’s okay because these people are my best friends and i know i need to be put in check sometimes, i admit. nobody else would dare try but them so i just let them. 

i must say, it has helped me improve my life to an extent. they taught me that it’s okay to cut ties with people who are bad for my mental health and encourage bad habits, and that i don’t owe shit to them even if they want to make me believe that. they kept telling me “quality friends are worth so much more than a big amount of bad ones” until it finally clicked in my brain and i blocked half of my contact list.

“look who’s talkin’. mister i work twice as hard as the person i try to lecture,” i jab my finger in his side and he jerks.

“you know that’s different,” he holds my hands in his to stop me from doing it again.

i like feeling his hands on mine. i know he’s my boyfriend and it might be weird to say it like that. but i haven’t seen him in so long, which means i also haven’t felt him in so long. it’s crazy but it almost feels like in the beginning when we were scared to touch each other and would act like we accidentally brushed our hand on the other but we both knew it was fully on purpose.

chris pulls me out of my thoughts again when he speaks, “at least i have an end in sight and work’s gonna be way more relaxed once i’m done with everything. with you there’s always–”

the ringing of his phone cuts him off and he takes a look at the caller id, his mom. he narrows his eyes at me and gives me a look that says “we’re not done yet” but picks up the phone and holds it up so she can see the both of us on the screen.

“i was going to ask chris about you but since you’re with him please pinch him for me,” is the first thing mary lou says when she looks at us. and i gladly do as she says even though i don't know what he did to deserve it.

“oww, what was that for?” chris asks whining and i just shrug and chuckle.

“you told me you would bring y/n the soup and go back home. you lied to me.”

i turn to him with my mouth hanging open, “christopher owen, how dare you?”

it’s so fun to aggravate chris.

he furrows his brows at me and then looks back at the screen, “she literally begged me,” he straight up lies. “i was trying to tell her i didn’t wanna get sick so i could only drop off the soup and blanket and would have to leave again but then she started crying–”

i hit him for real this time, hard enough to make him suck air through his teeth.

“mary lou, don’t believe a word he says.”

“i know, darling, you wouldn’t do that. chris, that’s twice you’ve lied today.”

“sorry, mom,” he actually looks defeated now, “you know i can’t just leave her all alone when she’s like this. i lied because i didn’t wanna worry you. i won’t get sick though,” at that me and her give each other a knowing look but let him continue, “y/n’s weak and in pain, of course i’ll be by her side as much as i can, you probably knew i was here, that’s why you called me,” chris wiggles his finger at his mom with a cheeky smile while she’s trying to hide her own.

“alright, alright,” she gives in, “that’s how young love is, i guess. anyway, have you eaten the soup yet?”

“almost all of it,” i report proudly, rubbing my stomach.

“only forced,” chris side-eyes me and i roll my eyes at him.

“and the tea?” mary lou just keeps going. well, i definitely know where her son gets the caring from.

i grab the mug that’s been sitting on the table for two hours and could now be considered iced tea and hold it up for her to see, “this is my third,” i take a sip.

“very good. okay, well, i just wanted to check if chris is taking good care of you. it’s important for you to get enough rest, don’t go to sleep too late, alright darling? i have to go now but if you need something just give me a call. i’ll talk to you both in the morning. good night, i love you,” she blows two kisses as we tell her we love her and then she ends the call.

right when chris puts his phone down we hear the doorbell ring.

we both glance at the direction of the front door as if we could see through it and figure out who’s standing on the other side. then we turn and look at each other.

“expecting someone?” chris asks me and i just shake my head no and shrug unknowingly.

“open up!” the voice sounds muffled but it’s unmistakably matt.

chris rolls his eyes and sighs loudly and i just giggle.

he moves the blanket and gets up to go open the door but stops in his tracks suddenly, turns around again, bends down and kisses me.

“won’t be able to do that for a while if he’s here,” he explains before he goes.

matt and nick do complain every time we kiss in front of them, so we agreed on trying not to do it anymore. they act like little kids being forced to see their parents being all lovey-dovey with each other. at least one of them always yells “GET A ROOM!” as if they’re not invading our personal space. big babies, like i said.

“what’s up, bitches?” nick walks in wearing the pajamas we wanted to match, holding up his hands. one holding what i assume is my set of the exact same one and a pillow in his other hand.

i jump up from the couch immediately and squeal as i run toward him to hug him.

“what are you doing here?” i ask once we let go of each other, our smiles still as big as ever.

“since chris is here breathing in germs and this one,” he points his thumb over his shoulder where matt is giving chris a pajama pair, “is already sick i thought we might as well have our movie night here since i’m getting it from one of you either way.”

“i’m so happy,” i squeak, elongating the words.

“aren’t you happy to see me too?” matt acts sad and offended when he moves to stand next to nick.

i roll my eyes but give him a big hug, “i am actually.”

chris scoffs and we all laugh. he moves to stand closer to me and i wrap my arms around him, tilting my head to look at him.

“you guys can go in the kitchen, grab some snacks while me and chris put on our pajamas,” i say to nick and matt, my eyes still locked on my boyfriend.

they do as they’re told once the’ve put down their things and soon enough they’re out of sight.

“you good?” chris asks me quietly, stroking my hair gently

“yeah. i just realized our alone time is over,” i respond in a hushed tone.

he gives me a kiss on the forehead before he talks, “it’s okay, we’ll just go up to your room when they’re asleep. nothing’s keeping me away from you tonight.”

hearing it makes comfort spread in my chest in a way i didn’t know i needed right now.

“i love you so much, chris. thank you for everything,” i try to sound genuine, because i truly am.

he holds my chin between his thumb and forefinger and dips his head until his lips meet mine.

“i love you too, ma.”

taglist:

@strniolosworld @that-general-simp @sturniolosreads @whoreforchr1s

[nickeverdeen]

Spider-Man Across The Spider Verse characters finding out you have a fever (platonic + romatic)

Miles Morales

Platonic

Miles immediately shows concern, his brow furrowing as he notices your discomfort

He quickly places the back of his hand on your forehead to check your temperature

Has to ask his mom and friends what to properly do

“You need to stay put, okay? I’ll get you some water and medicine.”

Miles stays by your side, making sure you’re comfortable

He tries to distract you with funny stories or movies

Ensures you have a warm blanket and are cozy

He texts other friends to let them know you’re not feeling well

If he can, he’ll bring you some homemade soup

“You’ll be back on your feet in no time, just rest.”

Romantic

Miles’ concern deepens, a mix of worry and affection in his eyes

Frequently checks your temperature to see if it’s getting better

Holds your hand or gently strokes your hair to comfort you

Tries to make homemade remedies he’s read about

Still has to ask his mom or friends

Refuses to leave your side, making sure you feel his presence

Sends you sweet and encouraging texts even if he’s in the same room

Puts on your favorite show or movie to lift your spirits

Updates his mom on your condition to get more advice

“Hey, I’m here. You’re going to get better soon, I promise.”

Talks about future plans to keep your mind off being sick

Gwen Stacy

Platonic

Gwen gives you a worried glance as soon as she realizes you’re unwell

She touches your forehead to feel your temperature.

Quickly grabs a medical kit to find something to help.

“You need to rest and hydrate. I’ll get you some water.”

Stays close by, making sure you’re not alone.

Puts on soothing music to help you relax.

Brings you comfort items like pillows or stuffed animals.

Lets other friends know you’re not feeling well and might need help.

Brings you light reading material to keep your mind occupied.

“You’ll be feeling better soon, just take it easy.”

Romantic

Her worry shows more deeply, her eyes soft with concern

Stays close, holding your hand or giving gentle touches to comfort you

Regularly checks your temperature to monitor your fever

Makes sure you have everything you need, from water to medicine

Whispers comforting words to help you relax

Stays with you, talking softly about anything to keep your spirits up

Might sing softly to you if she thinks it’ll help

Brings you warm tea to soothe you

“You’re so strong. This fever doesn’t stand a chance.”

Cuddles with you not caring if she’ll catch it

Hobie Brown

Platonic

Hobie immediately reacts, showing visible concern

He checks your temperature using the back of his hand after he realizes that you’re probably not faking

“Hey, don’t move. I’ll grab you some water and meds.”

Quickly finds something to help you feel better, like a cold compress

Cracks jokes to keep your spirits up despite the situation

Puts on some chill music to help you relax

Makes sure to stay nearby, not leaving you alone

Brings you anything he thinks will make you comfortable

Lets mutual friends know you’re under the weather so they won’t bother

“You’ll beat this fever in no time. Just rest up.”

Romantic

His worry is clear, showing how much he cares

Stays in close contact, holding your hand or sitting next to you

Plays games with you if you wanna

Takes personal care of you, ensuring you have everything you need

Shows a softer side, being tender and gentle with you

Whispers comforting words, helping you relax

Uses playful jokes to keep your mood light

Brings you warm drinks to help soothe you

“I’ve got you. This fever’s got nothing on us.”

Pavitr Prabhakar

Platonic

Pavitr shows immediate and a bit dramatic concern upon noticing your fever

Quickly checks your temperature like 15 times to confirm

“You need to rest right away! I’ll get you something good”

Finds quick solutions like a cold compress or medication

Stays with you to ensure you’re not alone

Engages in comforting talk to keep your spirits up

Uses humor to make you smile despite feeling unwell

Plays games with you which allow you to be laying in bed

Brings you necessary supplies like water and snacks

Romantic

His worry is evident, eyes filled with concern

Stays by your side, not wanting to leave you alone

Regularly checks your temperature, ensuring you’re okay

Gives you personal attention, ensuring you have everything you need and want

Whispers comforting words, and kisses your forehead helping you feel better

Holds your hand or strokes your hair gently

Uses positive humor to keep your spirits up

Brings you warm drinks to soothe you

“You’re strong, and you’ll get through this. I’m here with you, gorgerous/handsome.”

Talks about future dates with the two of you, keeping your mood positive

Miguel O’Hara

Platonic

Miguel immediately slight concern, his face serious

He quickly checks your temperature by thermometer with a clinical approach

“You need to rest. I’ll handle everything else.”

Ensures you have the proper medical attention

Stays nearby from time to time, making sure you’re comfortable and safe

Talks to you seriously about taking care of yourself

Brings you items like blankets and books

Lets the team know you’re not feeling well so they won’t count with you

Makes sure you’re eating and drinking properly

“You’re strong. Just rest and recover.”

Romantic

His concern deepens, showing a softer side

Stays with you, ensuring you’re never alone

Gives you personal and meticulous attention

Regularly checks your temperature, ensuring you’re improving

Offers comforting touches like holding your hand

Speaks a bit gently to soothe you

Brings you warm drinks to help you feel better

Shows tender care, making sure you’re as comfortable as possible

“I’m here, and you’re going to be okay. Just rest.”

Jessica Drew

Platonic

Jessica quickly shows concern, noticing your discomfort

Checks your temperature to confirm the fever

“You need to rest now. I’ll take care of everything else. I mean it”

Efficiently finds ways to make you comfortable

Stays close by to ensure you’re okay

Engages in comforting talk to keep your spirits up

Uses light humor to make you smile

Updates mutual friends on your condition and argues with Miguel not to send you to missions

Brings you essentials like water and snacks

“You’ll be back to your old self soon, just rest up.”

Romantic

Her worry is clear, showing how much she cares

Stays by your side, not wanting to leave you alone

Regularly checks your temperature to monitor your fever

Gives you personal care, ensuring you have everything you need

Whispers comforting words to help you relax

Offers gentle touches like holding your hand or stroking your hair

Brings you warm drinks to help soothe you

“You’re strong, and you’ll get through this. I’m here with you.”

Uses positive humor to keep your spirits up

Turns into mama mode

[michimars-room]

Confessions & Love Languages

with the MORTKRANKEN⚕️💉 GHOULS

Yuri’s…

love language ♡ acts of service & quality time

◇ you will need to confess first, he has a hard time dealing with THOSE pesky emotions… he’s so busy and here you are intruding his thoughts. He does know deep down now that he has someone like you in his life who loves him, comforts, and takes care of him - he doesn’t know if he could be without you now. Even when he’s busy (all the time) your presence lowers his stress levels. He will be so extra in ensuring you stay healthy. Report to him either via text or in person how you’re feeling every morning & night! If you feel even a hint of being unwell go straight to Mortkranken - directly to him. If you aren’t able to go if you are sick, he’s going to personally make a house call. After all, he is the only competent Doctor on campus! He’s the only one who can take care of you. Frowning while blushing madly when you thank him. Of course he will be taking the time to care for you, you’re… a very important patient. In the relationship it may take some time, but he starts to feel like he can be vulnerable with you.

◇Quality time ≠ quantity time. He understands that you can’t spend every moment with him and he can’t spend every moment with you… but the time he can and does spend with you, he’s completely and utterly relaxed. soft Yuri soft Yuri soft Yuri. When you come around will actually start taking proper breaks, instead of working himself to the bone. The feeling of relaxation is foreign, he hasn’t felt that in so long it terrifies him. Becomes super appreciative and affectionate, you actually can get him to sleep properly in a bed but only if you’re there too.

Jiro’s…

love language ♡ quality time & gift giving.

◇ Man oh man, even though he can clearly pinpoint how Yuri feels he isn’t able do the same for himself right away, but when he does oh boy… You’ll start to notice that your feelings are reciprocated when he starts checking up on you more often, making sure you’re okay, super attentive and well in tune with shifts in your emotions. Will actually confess to you, but in his own straightforward way. He isn’t necessarily afraid to voice his feelings, so he’s one who would make you a blushing nervous mess.

◇He may be busy assisting Yuri but somehow, in some way he is SURE to make time for you, and it's always time well spent. Will surprise you with presents if he knows he’s going to be busy for an especially long period of time. Like leaving a bouquet of your favorite flowers, snacks or anything you mentioned you liked, or he feels you may need while he can't be by your side. He’ll leave it outside your dorm, before you wake up. 1000% would laugh while reading your message when you wake up, thanking him & calling him sweet. you’re so cute to him for doing that. “I’m your boyfriend, it’s only natural I show you I care about you…isn’t it?” makes you melt, like well yes!! But he will do unexpected things like this often.

[asktheritochampion]

Psst, Rahlin. Teba said Ravioli has a new diary with some pretty endeering entrys. Hit us up on the sly?

[Text]

Sometimes it feels as though each of the other Champions has settled into their new lives in this futuristic world so much more effectively than I, and it leaves me feeling…inadequate. I’m unsure why I am having such a difficult time assimilating. I should surely feel thankful for this miracle second chance at life; however I often find myself so overcome with grief and sorrow that I cannot lift myself from my hammock. Isn’t that pathetic? I am supposed to be the Rito Champion. The people of this age look up to me. I must make a good impression, and lazing around in bed simply isn’t good enough.

It seems terribly childish to admit; but I miss my home. I miss my possessions. I miss the warriors I grew up with and trained besides. Perhaps I never had the type of relationships most people would consider friendships, however there is comfort in familiarity. I simply cannot stop thinking of all the people I have left behind. Nothing but dust in the ground now.

Did anybody mourn me as I am mourning them? I do not have a grave. I suppose they never recovered my body.

Things are not all doom and gloom despite my pitiful mood, however.

I have been staying temporarily with the newly appointed Village Elder and his family until a space opens up in the Village for me to reclaim my own roost. Its strange, but I feel like I have met him before, in the strange tangle of my memories of the Calamity. He is a fine warrior with impressive skills, I suspect he could almost match me in archery actually. Almost.

The family behaves as if I have lived with them all my life. I expected to feel frustrated being in such close quarters with such social people; however I am finding myself increasingly endeared by them. The wife, Saki, insists that I join them for meals every day, and admittedly it has been useful in forcing me out of my periods of wallowing. Her cooking is pleasant. The child, Tulin, seems to have some control over the wind such as I do. Even if he is just a boy, it has been fascinating to share conversation with him about it, I look forward to taking him on as an apprentice and teach him everything I know.

Perhaps things will be okay once I’ve had a little more time to adjust.

--

Yesterday I visited Zora’s Domain. It certainly has changed in the past hundred years – however perhaps not as much as Rito Village has. It was pleasant to see some familiar faces, even if many of them are now far older than they were during the Calamity.

Mipha requested my aid in fighting a Lynel on Ploymus Mountain. I suspect she only asked because she has some wayward concern for my wellbeing being the only one of us revived without a living family, considering the fact that she is perfectly capable of tackling such a foe alone. Regardless, she did invite me to join her for dinner afterwards, which is always a pleasant affair. I do enjoy Zora cuisine, and Mipha had many interesting stories to share. Her tiny brother is enormous now, it’s bizarre to see.

To avoid flying in the dark I stayed the night, and the two of us stayed up late consuming an unhealthy amount of sugary foods and taking turns reading aloud from a frankly hysterical Zora romance novel that seemed as if it had been written by someone with no concept of anatomy, and laughing until we felt unwell. It was…nice. It reminded me of old times.

Last night was the first time since awaking that I havn’t dreamt of Windblight.

Perhaps I could visit the Domain more often. In case they need my aid again.

--

There was a ceremony at the Castle this evening to honour the Champions of old by the sides of the ‘Sages’ who fought in the second coming of the Calamity. I’ve never enjoyed the pomp and grandeur of these types of events.

Admittedly I had intended not to attend initially. My reasoning to Teba had been that I was simply too busy for such unnecessary affairs, however in truth I…feel like a failure. How mortifying it seems to have failed my one task in aiding to stop the Calamity, and for a ten year old child to accomplish everything that I couldn’t a hundred years on.

Tulin is a good kid, I feel nothing but pride for his achievements. I simply feel such a deep sense of shame over it all. The very idea of standing in front of the entirety of Hyrule, all of the people I let down – it left me feeling sick to my stomach.

Teba had insisted I attend, if not to join in with the celebration then at least to support Tulin, and eventually I gave in. I’m glad I did.

Pointless as the ceremony was, it was pleasant to see the other Champions again. I do not visit them as often as I should; though I have been making an effort to send more missives. Furthermore, while it was an uncomfortable experience as expected; Tulin did appear to have a wonderful time of it, and it was pleasant to see the boy receive the praise he deserves for all of his hard work.

The Princess invited us to stay the night at the castle. Well, I suppose she is the Queen, now, though it seems strange to think of her as such. I spent most of the evening training in the royal gardens with Urbosa, and it was refreshing to be challenged again.

Before retiring to bed, I passed by Zelda in the royal library and we shared a nice discussion about the works of Frequius Edgal. I always enjoy hearing her enthuse about books; she used to be so crippled by stress before the Calamity and it seems as though now we are finally seeing her true face. She has invited me back to join her in a few weeks’ time to discuss another few tomes in a sort of book club; apparently Daruk shall be there too – though I never took the pebble brain for much of a reader.

--

My archery skills are still far superior to those of anyone in the Village, even a hundred years on it seems. While Teba’s skills are impressive, the old man is still too slow to quite match my unbeatable heights. Yet, I still yearn to become better.

Today I paid Daruk a visit in Goron City. The heat there does not agree with me; even when covering every feather on my body in bottles and bottles of fire proof elixir. However it was enjoyable to spend a day training in a different environment.

Daruk challenged me to some Goron tradition called a ‘gut check challenge’, which thankfully did not involve eating rocks, but rather climbing up a sheer cliff face on a time limit. Rito aren’t really built to climb, however I have never been one to back down from a challenge.

I failed miserably. Slipped and fell about seven times, definitely bruised a few ribs and twisted my ankle, and by the time I made it to the top I had passed the time limit by a number of hours. I was practically the laughing stock of half of Goron City.

Perhaps it should have been a humiliating experience, however instead I found it a delightful thrill. Something about Daruk’s positive attitude about everything makes it rather difficult to feel ashamed, and despite my utter failure to excel at his challenge, he did nothing but rejoice over my making it to the top in the end after so many attempts, commending my determination and bravery. I left feeling almost rather proud of myself – which is utterly ridiculous; I don’t know how he did that.

I intend to practise climbing over the next few weeks in the privacy of the Hebra mountains and then come back to give his challenge another try. The look on his face when I show up and beat every Goron in the City’s time with my superior skills shall be wonderful.

I havn’t had a panic attack in two weeks now. I think the medicine Saki gave me is helping. I’ve been eating more regularly again too.

--

Link came to visit the Village again this week to assist with setting up for the winter festival, I think Teba requested it of him. The helpful little brat can never turn down the opportunity to help someone.

I can’t seem to stop myself from spitting insults into the boys face at every opportunity I get. At first it had been from a place of indignation and frustration over his silence and refusal to recognise my skills; however as we’ve gotten to know one another I no longer hold that same sense of anger towards him. If anything, I almost rather enjoy his company these days. The knight is an excellent listener, and a worthy challenger to battle. I don’t know why I feel so compelled to treat him with malice.

There is a possibility I am perhaps experiencing something akin to a schoolboy crush. How mortifying. Perhaps my frustration is coming from a place of knowing the obnoxious little hero is in the eye of both the Princess of Zora’s Domain and the new Queen of Hyrule. Inevitably, he’ll end up a king some way or another, and that thought pains me. I hate that I can’t stop thinking about the ridiculous blond runt. I hate that there is no conceivable timeline in which he even graces a single thought in his oversized head on me; a Rito with no political standing whatsoever who failed at his one task in the Calamity.

Perhaps I bully him because I’m so desperate for him to believe I am still worthy of his attention. It seems so utterly below me.

I am attempting to be better about this. Tonight, I refrained from calling him a disgusting glutton when he had a third portion of Saki’s cooking. I informed him that his hair wasn’t a complete mess while we were preparing for bed. I even offered him a space in my hammock when he complained of the chill of the night air. None of these things come very naturally to me, but I am trying. The fool doesn’t deserve to be insulted due to my own insecurities.

Tomorrow morning I am to join him in an activity he called ‘shield surfing’. For tonight, I am allowing him to sleep beneath my wing. He is very pretty when he sleeps. Perhaps with some practise, I’ll be able to tell him that someday.

--

I got into another fight with Teba.

Sometimes I think I miss the Calamity, but I suspect what I really miss is the person I was back then. I tell myself that I was brave, flawless, near unstoppable. Retrospectively; perhaps I was merely naive and what I really miss is truly believing that I could do anything.

I was displaying my impeccable flight and shooting skills for the fledglings the other day and messed up my ascent. I doubt anyone even noticed in truth, I managed to catch myself after being thrown by the updrafts pull and the fledglings seemed to think it was part of the performance. Still, it mortified me that I could make such a pathetic mistake even after all of these years. Sometimes it feels as though no matter how much I refine my skills, I shall simply never be good enough.

As it happens, Teba had been watching from near by and later on attempted to commend me on my flight skills, even going as far as saying he was proud of me for everything I have managed to accomplish at such a young age. Perhaps I was still frustrated with myself because I took his compliment with great offence and practically tore the man a new one, spitting insults at him for daring to patronise me.

After several minutes of a back and forth lashing with the man, I began to feel that familiar tug of panic in my chest again and retreated to Medoh. This time I stayed with her for days. Something about her silent company seems to soothe my frantic mind, and I appreciate her lack of judgement over my episodes of patheticness.

The funny thing is, deep down I know the Elder’s compliments had come from a genuine place, and I believe a part of me so desperately wanted to believe them. I don’t believe anyone has ever told me that they were proud of me before, and patronising as it might seem, a childish part of me deep inside yearns for it. My lashing out at him comes from my own insecurities; I simply feel as though I don’t deserve his pride. I havn’t earned it yet. I still need to be better.

When I returned to the Village, Teba apologised for patronising me, and I apologised for calling him a worthless, pathetic failure of a warrior with two left feet and a fledgling level of skill with a bow. It seemed a mutual affair of forgiveness and moving on, however I have continued to feel guilt over my outburst.

For all my vocabulary exceeds most in size; sometimes I find words…difficult. I made him a new quiver for his arrows since his old one was a tattered mess, and left it with his things. I hope that is enough to convey my remorse.

These people are the closest thing I have to family or friends in the Village in this day and age. Why can’t I stop pushing people away the moment they get too close?

[rhiannonsknife]

Rhiannon taking care of r on their period? (Aka mine suddenly came early and I am Suffering with a capital S 😭)

-🔆

i feel you 🔆 anon!! my cycle has been a fucking MESS lately, so this is purely self indulgent…🙂‍↕️

the cramps hit you like a freight train, sharp and sudden, and you’re halfway to curling into a ball on your bed when the door creaks open.

rhiannon leans against the doorframe, her sharp gaze softening the moment she sees you clutching your stomach. “that bad, huh?” she asks, stepping into the room.

“you have no idea,” you groan, burying your face deeper into your pillows. “it’s early, too! i wasn’t ready for this!”

she clicks her tongue in sympathy, stepping closer. “early? now that’s just cruel!” her hand rests lightly on your back. “alright, stay put. i’ll handle it”

you half expect rhiannon to leave, but she doesn’t. instead, she pulls a heating pad from the shelf where you’d stashed it, plugs it in, and tests the heat against her hand before placing it gently on your lower stomach. “warm enough?” she asks, her voice oddly soft.

when you give her a quick nod, she adjusts it slightly, making sure it sits just right before she sets about gathering the rest of all essentials. she grabs one of your favorite cozy blankets from the chair in the corner, shaking it out, then tucking it snugly around you.

“i’ll be right back,” rhiannon assures, brushing a stray hair from your forehead where her fingers linger for just a second. she returns minutes later, balancing a steaming mug of tea in one hand and some over-the-counter painkillers in the other. she hands both over without a word, waiting patiently as you sip the tea and swallow the pills, then sits down beside you on the edge of the bed. her weight makes the mattress dip just enough to make you lean toward her.

“anything else you need?” she asks, her tone so soft you barely recognize it as her own.

“you,” you mumble, shifting so your head can rest against her thigh.

rhiannon chuckles as she begins running her fingers through your hair, her free hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back. “you’re such a baby,” she teases. “good thing u don’t mind taking care of you”

rhiannon, who’s always willing to go on emergency supply runs for you.

whether it’s 7 in the morning or pushing midnight, if you’re out of supplies, rhiannon is on it immediately. she barely even lets you finish mumbling, “i think we ran out of…” before she’s grabbing her keys! not even ten minutes later and your phone buzzes with a text.

do you want the chocolate bar with caramel or the peanut butter one?

you smile faintly at the screen, the cramps momentarily forgotten. when you text back that you’re fine with either chocolate bar, her reply is immediate.

not helpful. i’ll get both.

rhiannon who always does her very best to relieve your pain somehow.

as much of a pro she is when it comes to inflicting pain, she hates to see you even slightly uncomfortable. her hands are firm but gentle as she rubs slow circles on your lower back, her touch instinctively finding the exact spots that hurt the most. “tell me if i’m pressing too hard,” she murmurs, though her touch is always just right: never too light to feel useless, never too firm to be uncomfortable. she doesn’t rush it either. her movements are steady and patient, her focus entirely on making you feel better, even if it’s just a little bit. when you sigh in relief or lean into her hands, rhiannon takes it as a small victory already. “better?” she’ll ask occasionally, her tone full of gentle care.

rhiannon, who’s always down for some cuddles, especially when you’re physically unwell.

she’s not the most physically affectionate person by default, mostly because she’s not used to having somebody around. but whenever she notices that you’re in pain, that whole tough exterior of hers softens instantly. without another word, rhiannon pulls you into her lap, her strong arms wrapping around you protectively <33

rhiannon, who secretly sets a reminder on her phone for your next expected cycle.

she lowkey uses the period tracker app to track your cycle, not her own!! she even adds a buffer day or two, just in case, and logs all your symptoms. you catch her once, frowning at her phone, her thumb tapping quickly. “what are you doing?” you ask. “making sure we’re ready,” rhiannon replies without looking up. “i’m not letting this sneak up on us again!”

and she means it. she logs your symptoms as soon as you mention them, a headache, cramps, mood swings, so she can predict the next time they might hit. she sets reminders for herself to restock supplies before they run out and makes mental notes to grab your favorite comfort snacks when the time comes. it’s surprisingly sweet, even if she’s a little obsessive about it. “you don’t have to do all that,” you tell her once, feeling a little embarrassed by just how thorough she is. rhiannon just shrugs. “i want to. makes things easier, doesn’t it?”

rhiannon, who keeps an eye on you all week long…

…watching for even the smallest sign that you’re struggling. she doesn’t make a big deal out of it, but she’s attentive, always catching you when you wince from a cramp or when you zone out, overwhelmed by the pain. on particular shitty days, she’ll frequently check in on you. “how’re you holding up?” rhiannon asks then. if you don’t answer right away, or if you give her a quiet, strained “fine,” she’s already on it.

“okay, we’re taking a break,” she decides firmly. “couch. now!”

[babyleostuff]

Hi! could you do svt taking caring of you when you're sick?

sick with seventeen | OT13

☾₊ ⊹ currently playing: do it like that by txt

𓆩♡𓆪 CHOI SEUNGCHEOL 

turns into a nurse that’s going to take care of you 24/7 

even though he is a bit clueless, will do everything you ask him to - you need an extra blanket? He’s got ten. You need more water? He’s going to get five more bottles. You want to watch a movie that he absolutely hates? He’s already waiting on the sofa 

believes that cuddles can treat any sickness, so be prepared to be smothered with even more love than usual 

he also gets even sulkier when you’re sick because his baby is feeling unwell and he can’t do anything about it :(((

if he’s at work, he texts you every two hours to make sure you don't need anything (also for his peace of mind because he's oversensitive when you're sick and is generally very worried about you)

𓆩♡𓆪 YOON JEONGHAN 

very gentle and loving, never teases you when you’re sick (he doesn’t even want to, he’s just focused on getting you healthy again) 

always has meds and a glass of water ready and he’s probably the one to remind you to take your pills 

gets SO annoyed with you, if you get out of bed and go about your day as if you didn’t almost die from a cough fit five minutes ago 

will run his fingers through your hair 90% of the time that you’re sick 

he takes advantage of the situation and the fact that you should be resting to do a movie marathon. His real motive is not really the movies, but the fact that he can cuddle you all night, claiming that since you're lying together anyway why not cuddle 

𓆩♡𓆪  HONG JOSHUA 

ah yes, now the husband material, it’s almost as if he was born ready for this 

has EVERYTHING you need - all kinds of medications, blankets, water, food, his comforting arms, and kisses 

When you wake up with a fever in the morning, he is out of bed in a second looking for anything that would make you feel better 

he gives you a lot of space, knowing that you need your time to rest, but is always there in case you need him, whether he stays in your bedroom working on his laptop, or doing something in the room next door 

never complains when you’re annoyed or angry when sick, he puts up with your every mood swing, knowing that you must feel like shit because of your illness

𓆩♡𓆪  WEN JUNHUI 

when you’re sick, you probably spend 95% of that time resting on Jun’s lap

is a bit clueless, he doesn’t really know what to do or how to help you but will do his best to make you feel better 

spends the afternoon on your sofa after you’ve finally fallen asleep, searching for how to get rid of a sore throat and a fever 

does all your chores for you, and doesn’t complain even once (generally, he'd do everything for you, just so you didn’t have to get up)

would not admit this to you, but is actually quite worried when you’re sick, even when it’s a slight fever or a seasonal flu

𓆩♡𓆪  KWON SOONYOUNG 

gets so pouty, because what do you mean his baby is sick and has to stay at home for the next week :(((

one of the members that I’m 100% sure is as clueless as a person can be - you’d have to tell him everything, what meds he needs to buy, how big of a dose you need to take, what makes your throat less sore, etc. 

would not hesitate to hug, cuddle and kiss you, ignoring your warnings that he might get sick as well 

constantly texts you when he’s at work and if you don’t answer within 5 minutes he becomes a worried mess

takes advantage of your tired and drowsy state to cuddle you endlessly, even if you wanted to get up, he wouldn’t let you, saying that it’s the doctor's prescription to rest in bed (with him, of course)

𓆩♡𓆪   JEON WONWOO

when he arrives at your place and sees you all cuddled up in blankets asleep with a thermometer and medicine on the table, he can swear his heart breaks a little

he acts all unbothered, but on the inside, he is all freaked out

is very gentle and soft and has this urge to constantly hug you (he hates knowing that you’re in pain and there’s nothing he can do about it, so he wants to make it up to you by being by your side 24/7)

tries to make something for you to eat, but eventually gives up and either orders tons of takeout or calls Mingyu to make ramen for you 

he knows you like to watch him when he’s gaming, so he’ll put you between his legs, your back pressed against his chest, with a thick blanket around you (you probably fall asleep within first five minutes, but it puts him at ease knowing that you’ll get some rest) 

𓆩♡𓆪  LEE JIHOON

is always there by your side, so you know that you can always count on him and he’ll help you as best as he can 

even if he’s at work, he told you that you could call him anytime you needed anything from the store or is you were feeling worse 

if he’s at home though, he stays in your bedroom working, but checking up on you from time to time, making sure you’ve got everything you needed 

gets so relieved when you finally fall asleep (when he made sure that you’re REALLY asleep he’d put an extra blanket around you and peck your forehead)

supports you in any way he can when you’re sick

𓆩♡𓆪  XU MINGHAO 

has every type of medication you need, you don’t even have to ask for anything, he’s got everything ready to take care of you  

if you’re too weak to eat or take a shower by yourself, he’ll happily feed you and help you get to the bathroom, where he’ll run you a bath, filled with different bathing salts  

he will make tea every few hours, assuring you that it will help with your symptoms and make you recover faster

if you're feeling particularly unwell, but don’t want to go to the doctor, he’ll call his mom to ask for any tips (she’ll probably scold you too, but just because she’s worried about you)

may not be that enthusiastic about cuddling you, but when he sees how bad and lonely you feel, laying alone in bed all day, he’ll put you on his chest and play with your hair to help you fall asleep 

𓆩♡𓆪  KIM MINGYU 

he turns into your personal chef, WILL MAKE YOU SO MUCH FOOD 

you won’t be able to get out of bed, he makes sure you stay there for the next week. He will do everything for you and the only time you are allowed to leave is to go to the bathroom, but that’s it

if he’s not in the kitchen he is right by your side, probably cuddling you, not being able to see you sick and unwell (he wants to spend every second next to you, comforting you in any way he can)

is so so worried, even if you reassure him that you’re okay and that it’s just a fever

you have to basically force him out of the house, so he doesn’t miss his work. He makes you promise that if you feel even a bit worse you call him, but even though, he texts you constantly, hating the fact that you’re all alone at home 

𓆩♡𓆪  LEE SEOKMIN 

gets so protective and caring (even more than he usually is) and insists that you stay in bed for the next couple of days 

he’d sit you down on the couch, give you one of his hoodies, wrap you up in fluffy blankets, making sure that you’re warm, and give you all the medication you need 

not exactly sure what to do next, but stays calm for your sake, not wanting to make you even more upset than you already were 

if he was feeling particularly lost, he’d call his older members asking for any tips on how to take care of you 

would be happy to cuddle you and help you with anything you needed - do your house chores, feed you, or help you shower 

𓆩♡𓆪 BOO SEUNGKWAN 

clueless maknae 1/3

panics, because he isn’t sure how to help you - is he supposed to take you to the doctor? Buy you meds? Make any special food?

you’d have to reassure him that it’s okay and that you’d tell him if you needed anything (he feels a bit bad that he isn’t completely capable of taking care of you, but still does his best, to show that you can always count on him)

he’d get very protective, and would throw a tantrum if you left your bed - even though you just wanted to go to the bathroom, he would still be very dramatic about it

in the end, he’d be the perfect company for when you’re sick, even though he might overreact a little, it’s just because he loves you so much and is worried about you 

𓆩♡𓆪 CHWE VERNON 

clueless maknae 2/3

his mind would go blank when he saw how the coughing fits was keeping you awake at night, but he had no clue how to help you

would call his mom first thing in the morning and ask a thousand questions how to help you and how to treat you, not wanting to feel so useless and actually do something to make you feel better 

he would unintentionally use his humour to cheer you up and finally put a small smile on your face (he felt as if he achieved the biggest thing, when he sees that he made you smile) 

gets a bit panicky if you tell him you’re getting worse, definitely would take you to the doctor immediately

𓆩♡𓆪  LEE CHAN 

clueless maknae 3/3

so so so protective and caring, he would NOT let you out of bed

the second you tell him you’re feeling sick, he googles every of your symptom and convinces himself that you’re probably going to die and that he NEEDS to drive you to hospital 

you’d have to reassure him a lot that your fine and it’s just the flu, but he would still take care of you, as if you were about to die 

he would call half of his contact list in search for any tips - his hyungs, mom, grandmother and even an aunt that he hasn’t seen in forever (he’s just so sad that his baby is feeling sick and want to do everything he can to make you feel better :<)

[kathlare]

a favor in the heat

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Stella, despite being pregnant and unwell, asks Amelie for a favor— to travel to Bahrain to support Checo, who is preparing for a Grand Prix.

Wordcount: 1.2 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

February 24th, 2023 - Merida, Mexico

Amelie stood at the counter in her family’s kitchen, her hands lost in the familiar rhythm of measuring and mixing. The quiet hum of the ceiling fan above was the only sound in the room, other than the occasional scrape of a spoon or the soft thud of flour being sifted into the bowl. She was baking, something she rarely did, but something she always turned to when her mind wouldn’t quiet down. Right now, it was a cacophony of thoughts, none of them particularly welcome.

Rodrigo was on her mind more than he should be. The distance between them had only grown since they’d started dating, the constant travel for both of their careers making it harder and harder to maintain any kind of connection. The long calls and text messages had started to feel less like a bond and more like an obligation.

She sighed and wiped a stray strand of hair from her face, her eyes flicking to the clock. She didn’t even know why she was still awake, baking at this hour. It wasn’t even a particularly late night. But the weight of everything—the relationship, the constant chaos of her life, the unknowns—had made her restless. And so, she baked.

Just as she added the butter to the mixing bowl, she heard a familiar, unmistakable voice from the doorway.

—Amelie!— Stella’s voice echoed through the kitchen, drawing her attention. She didn’t even need to look to know her sister had entered. Stella’s footsteps were always heavy, a stark contrast to Amelie’s quiet movements.

Amelie glanced up, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. —Hey, what’s up?— she asked, trying to sound casual despite the knot that had just tightened in her stomach.

Stella shuffled into the kitchen, her hand resting lightly on her stomach. The pregnancy was becoming more noticeable now, her second trimester rounding her belly. But what caught Amelie’s attention was the pale look on her sister’s face, the way her lips were pressed into a thin line.

—You okay?— Amelie asked, her tone softer now, the anxiety she’d been feeling about Rodrigo momentarily pushed aside.

Stella sighed dramatically and leaned against the counter, visibly uncomfortable. —Not really. I feel like shit, actually.— She rubbed her face with one hand. —I can’t even keep food down. I’m nauseous all the time.—

Amelie raised an eyebrow, her focus flicking back to her baking. —You should take it easy, you know?—

Stella waved a hand, brushing off the advice. —Trust me, I’ve been trying. But that’s not what I’m here for.— She gave Amelie a pointed look. —I need you to do me a huge favor. I’m begging you.—

Amelie set the spoon down, her hands now covered in a mix of flour and dough, as she leaned against the counter. —What’s going on?—

Stella’s eyes grew wide, her voice lowering to a dramatic whisper. —I need you to go to Bahrain with Checo. I can’t, I’m too sick. You know how I am when I’m pregnant, and I can’t risk being there and getting worse.— She bit her lip, looking like she was about to burst into a tantrum. —Please, Amelie. I need you to go and support him for me. He’s been busy as hell with testing, and I just want to know he’s not alone during the race weekend.—

Amelie froze, the weight of her sister’s request sinking in. Bahrain. The Grand Prix. A place she didn’t exactly want to revisit, especially not right now. —You want me to go to Bahrain... to be Checo’s support?— she repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Stella nodded, a look of desperation in her eyes. —Yes. I’m telling you, I can’t go. I’d just throw up all over the place.— She held her stomach and frowned, clearly uncomfortable. —And I know it’s going to be hard to convince you, because I know what’s going on with you and Lando. But this is about Checo. Not us.—

Amelie felt her stomach churn at the mention of Lando’s name. Her fingers instinctively tightened around the spoon in her hand, and she had to fight the urge to throw it across the kitchen. She had been trying so hard to avoid thinking about him, about everything that had happened between them. But now, there it was—her sister had gone and dragged it all back into the conversation.

—Stella...— Amelie began, trying to keep her voice steady. —You know I can’t just go to Bahrain, not with everything that’s happened. And besides, I don’t even know if I can just drop everything right now.—

Stella rolled her eyes, taking a step closer. —Oh, come on. I know it’s weird between you and Lando. But this isn’t about him. This is about family, Amelie.— Her tone softened slightly. —And I really need you. I’ve been stuck in bed all day, and Checo’s going to be busy with race prep, so I’ll just be here, miserable, alone. You know how it is. I don’t want to worry him.—

Amelie’s jaw tightened, her eyes flicking to the floor. She knew this wasn’t going to be a simple conversation, but hearing the word “alone” hit her in a way she hadn’t expected.

She’d been feeling the exact same way lately. Alone.

—You want me to go there and sit in a hotel while Checo’s racing?— Amelie asked, trying to push the knot in her throat down. —Because that’s what it’ll feel like. It’s not like I’ll actually be able to talk to him between all his meetings and the race schedule.—

Stella crossed her arms, her expression shifting to one of exasperation. —Yeah, that’s what it’ll feel like. But you know what? He needs the support. I know it’s awkward for you, Amelie. Believe me, I get it. But you’ve been all over the world this year, so you might as well go somewhere and be useful for once. Come on, please. For me. Don’t make me beg.—

Amelie paused, the irritation bubbling up despite herself. She knew Stella was right about one thing: Amelie had been traveling non-stop, barely staying in one place for more than a few days. But that didn’t change the fact that she didn’t want to deal with Lando again. Not like this. Not after everything that had happened.

She opened her mouth to refuse, but before she could say anything, Stella cut her off.

—I know you and Lando aren’t on the best terms right now,— Stella said, her voice much gentler, as if she knew exactly what was happening. —But don’t let him get in the way of helping Checo. Just for a few days. After that, you can go home and put all that bullshit behind you.—

Amelie closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm the storm inside her head. She didn’t want to think about Lando, or what had happened between them. She just wanted things to be simple, for once.

But she also knew Stella wasn’t asking her to do anything unreasonable. Checo needed her. And, no matter how much she hated it, she knew she couldn’t back out of this.

She sighed deeply, feeling the weight of the decision settling on her shoulders. —Fine, I’ll go. But I’m only doing it for Checo, okay? Not for anyone else.—

Stella’s eyes lit up, and she took a step forward, a grin spreading across her face. —Thank you, Amelie! You’re the best!—

Amelie nodded, but her stomach twisted. This was going to be harder than she’d thought.

And the thought of seeing Lando again? That was a whole other can of worms she wasn’t ready to open.

[iamtired10]

newjeans headcanons to when ur sick/unwell 🫶🫶 i really adore ur writing so much! but dont feel pressured to write this suggestion :)) i reqlly hope your having a great day and i hope for many great ones to come.

under the weather

— ☘︎ fluffy headcanons

pairing: newjeans members x female reader

synopsis: how each newjeans member would react when you're sick and feeling unwell.

warning: just too much cuteness, really! :((

a/n: hey guys, im finishing up other requests tomorrow. this was the first request saurr i worked on it first. ive got some drafts im not happy with (so re-writing them) if u have any requests let me know! but bear with me—i have exams!

— kim minji

minji is the type to immediately notice when you’re not feeling well.

she’ll place her hand on your forehead, gently tucking your hair behind your ear as her brows furrow with concern.

“why didn’t you tell me earlier, baby? you’re burning up.”

minji would insist on taking care of you the entire day.

she’ll make you soup, even if she’s not the best cook, just because it’s something warm for you.

you’d hear her asking google how to make the perfect tea for sore throats or colds.

she’s naturally nurturing, always nearby with a soft blanket, making sure you're warm but not too hot, gently adjusting your pillow.

she’d also have her calm, patient smile on, trying to reassure you, even though you can tell she’s a little worried.

she’ll hum quietly while cuddling you, making sure you get the rest you need, checking in with soft whispers like, “does this feel better, love?” or “i’m right here if you need anything.”

— pham hanni

hanni will panic for like, two seconds, and then immediately jump into action.

she’ll text you, “don’t move!! i’m coming over!!” and show up at your door with way too many things – snacks, cough drops, drinks, and possibly some of the cutest plushies you’ve ever seen.

she’s the type to watch funny movies with you because laughter is the best medicine, right?

hanni’s focus would be on keeping you entertained and distracted from the fact that you’re feeling awful.

she’d wrap herself up in a blanket like a burrito and say, “look, if you’re sick, then i’m sick too. we suffer together.”

expect her to crack jokes, make goofy faces, and maybe do a little silly dance, anything to make you smile through the discomfort.

she’ll hold your hand whenever you’re not feeling great, squeezing it tight and assuring you that you’ll get better soon.

— danielle marsh

danielle will go above and beyond to make sure you're comfortable and smiling.

she’s got that sweet, caring energy that feels like sunshine, so being around her would feel so comforting.

she’d take one look at you and go, “oh no, my poor baby!”

before immediately wrapping you up in the coziest hug.

danielle would come over with a bag full of wellness goodies—think vitamins, fresh fruit, and some herbal teas that her mom probably recommended.

but, she wouldn’t stop there.

danielle would sit beside you, making sure you have water nearby and taking your temperature like a little nurse.

she’d read to you, tell you stories, and probably come up with silly scenarios to make you giggle.

“i know you’re sick right now, but you know what? i’m here to make sure you get better in the cutest way possible!”

she’d offer a shoulder massage or gently rub your back as you rest.

just being with her would make you feel instantly at ease, like you’re already healing just from her presence.

— kang haerin

haerin might not be the most vocal, but she shows her love through actions, and her quiet support would be so soothing when you’re unwell.

she’d notice you feeling off right away and probably wouldn’t say much, but she’d hover around, checking up on you constantly.

she’s the type to sit beside you and just stay close, not overwhelming you with questions but making sure you know she’s there.

she’ll bring you a cool washcloth for your forehead or your favorite drink without even asking, like she already knows what you need before you do.

if you’re too tired to talk, haerin would just hold your hand, her thumb brushing over your knuckles in slow, comforting strokes.

there’s something about her presence that feels calming, like she’s a grounding force when everything else feels off.

haerin would definitely put on some calming music, or better yet, hum softly as she brushes your hair away from your face.

she won’t leave your side, and even though she’s not saying much, you can feel how much she cares.

—lee hyein

hyein would be the most eager to take care of you.

she’ll probably rush to the store to get all kinds of things for you—medicine, soup, snacks, and maybe even some cute little gifts to cheer you up.

she’s very hands-on and would want to help you feel better immediately.

“don’t worry, i got this! you just lay there and look cute.” hyein would say, flashing that confident grin of hers.

she’s the type to bundle you up in blankets, but she’s also a little bit of a tease, so she’ll jokingly smother you in the covers and go, “stay wrapped up like a burrito so you can sweat out the sickness!”

you’ll catch her running around, trying to fix everything at once, even if it’s just making sure the pillows are fluffed or you have the perfect temperature drink by your side.

but the moment you look up at her with those puppy-dog eyes because you’re tired or feeling extra unwell, she’ll soften instantly, sitting by your side and stroking your cheek.

“i got you, babe. just rest, i’ll be here the whole time.”

she’ll make it a point to stick by you, even if it means staying up until she’s sure you’re sleeping peacefully.

a/n: good night 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔..

[augustvandyne]

not a request necessarily i just love talking about addison

imagine if youre really unwell during a shift and addison finds out and goes to see you. when she gets there her heart aches. you’re her best fellow and also…

smaller little imagine

i’m here

Addison hadn’t seen you for a few hours. Ever since your surgery a while ago, she hasn’t seen you roaming the halls. She imagined you were just tired, as the two of you didn’t get much sleep last night after another surgery, which took all night.

And truth be told, after any surgery you usually crash for an hour or two - even just after a routine procedure. But she was getting worried now because it’s nearing five hours and you still haven’t reappeared.

Not to mention you missed breakfast with her, and from the people she’s spoken with, you haven’t left the on-call room you entered earlier.

Izzie offered to show her to the on-call room she spotted you entering earlier today. She stops in front of the door, “She should be in there.”

“Thank you, Dr. Stevens. I owe you,” Addison presses her lips together in a tight and anxious smile.

“It’s no problem, really,” Izzie nods vigorously. “I am just as worried about her as you are.”

Addison takes a deep breath and tries to reassure herself that nothing is wrong with you, but is unable to calm her nerves. The only person who is able to do that these days is you.

She furrows her eyes and prays you’re just sleeping as she opens the door with a creak. On the other side of the door is you laying in a fetal position on the bed. She tilts her head trying to figure out what’s wrong with you, and it comes to her when you let out a strangled cough.

Addison moves to sit on the end of the bed, her gentle hand coming to soothingly rub your shoulder.

“Mm,” You roll over towards her, your face coming to smoosh itself into her side. “I’m tired, Addie.”

“I see,” Addison nodded and ran her hand through your hair. It was damp with sweat and her suspicions came true when she turned her hand over to put on your forehead. “I think you’re sick, darling.”

“No,” You shake your head. “I can’t be. We have surgeries to get to. What time is it?”

“Uh..” Addison looks at her phone, seeing it’s about ten in the morning. “Five hours?”

“What?!” You try to sit up, but you begin to get dizzy so you have to lay back down.

“It’s okay, I promise,” Addison’s hands make their way back to your scalp.

“Just give me a few minutes,” One of your hands makes it to Addison’s thigh, and her other hand comes down to hold yours.

“No, you need to rest,” She squeezes your hand reassuringly.

You groan.

“Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling good?” Addison frowns down at you. “I would have let you sit a surgery out.”

“Because I felt much better earlier,” You promised. “My throat was a little sore, but now I feel like death. I don’t know if I can stand without passing out.”

“Well it’s a great thing you’re surrounded by doctors, now, isn’t it?” Addison moves a piece of your hair and tucks it behind your ear. “How about you just rest for a few more hours and we’ll reevaluate after.”

Addison moves to get up, but you attempt to pull her back, and she looks at you with her eyebrows raised.

“Please stay,” You cry softly. “Your skin is cold and I’m hot.”

“Okay,” Addison gives in, sliding under the covers beside you. “I’ll cancel my surgeries for the next few hours, okay? We’ll push them back.”

You lay your head on Addison’s chest so you can feel her heart beating - there’s a weird comfort to it - and her arms wrap around your shoulders to hold you against her.

“Wait we have that big surgery later—“ You try to sit up again, but Addison pulls you back to her chest.

“I don’t care,” Addison says. “If you need me here, I’m here.”

“Okay,” Your hand finds a sliver of skin that is exposed from her scrub top lifting, and it rests there.

Addison swallows nervously, trying to ignore how good your hand feels on hers as she pulls her phone out to text Callie to let her know to cancel all her surgeries.

Because her heart ached for you, and if you wanted or needed her, she would be there in a heartbeat.