#instead when i clean i get nauseous or start cramping

[littlemelaninfics]

Hey girl❤️🥰As a POC I absolutely love your work. You truly do make all of us feel so seen. I have a kinda odd(?) request for a Buck x Reader imagine. Obviously you don’t have to write it if you aren’t comfortable with it but I feel like you’d be able to do it justice

Could you write something about the reader having a bad period and Buck being there to comfort her/take care of her and then some period sex after…yk? I feel like that could be good and I really wanna read something like that.

A Crimson Connection ❤️ || Evan Buckley Smut

WARNINGS: Period Sex, 2.55K words (I got carried away and that's a warning in itself🥰)

A/n: I love you so much! That really means a lot to me and is the whole reason I create for Black (POC) readers 🤎 Thank you for your request and I'm so sorry it took me two months to complete! Period sex is a different kind of horny. You’re SO sensitive and a little sore. A little embarrassed <3 and blood feels so different from your usual pussy lube. Thinner, less viscous, and there’s so much of it. Uh, or so I've heard 👀

After being woken up by a piercing pain in your stomach, you rolled out of bed and headed into the bathroom. Even though you didn’t have to go, hunching over in a solid seating position helped the cramps pass a little easier. You could feel the pressure rising and started to get really nauseous, really fast. Before you knew it, you were prying the lid open and down on your knees.

You closed and flushed the toilet, still breathing heavily. You slouched over, gripping your abdomen and squeezing your eyes shut in pain as another deep pang hit you. It was then that you heard the bathroom door slide open and you didn’t need to open your eyes to know it was Buck. You were still moaning and groaning in pain while he slid down next to you, taking you in his arms. You mold into him, but you weren’t prepared for the cold sensation on your forehead and jumped slightly,

“Whoa, sorry. It’s just a rag, baby.”

“Hmmm."

Buck felt bad that your period was this painful every now and then. You suffered from random ovarian cysts that affected your cycle and made you violently ill for at least 24 hours. You two were in the ER two weeks before when your suspicions of the sharp pain were correct. The ultrasound showed a decent size cyst on your left ovary and you were just happy it wasn't both like last time.

He continued to wipe your face with the cloth, pulling you in more and kissing your clammy forehead,

"Is there anything I can do, baby?" He spoke with his lips still touching your temple. The vibrations his voice went through you, sending a calming sensation over your body and mind,

"Mmm mmm," you replied.

"Can you stand?" You just nodded and he began to get up from the floor, you gripping onto his forearm to not lose balance. He walked over to the tub and turned on the shower,

"I need to brush," you said softly while pointing to the counter.

"Shower first. The hot water will feel good, I promise."

You debated extending your argument, but you instead found yourself gripping on to Buck's shoulder riding out another cramp. It faintly passed and you accepted your boyfriend was right. You breathed heavily and nodded your head. Buck helped you pull your night shirt over your head before kneeling to help you step out of your panties. He placed a kiss on your hip, then swiftly stood to his full height,

"I'll be right in the room. Just yell if you need me, okay?" He said as he helped you over the tub.

"Thank you." He smiled gently and kissed your head once more before exiting the bathroom. You slugged your feet to move under the shower head; heavily debating on sitting down but quickly remembering you wanted to clean the tub earlier that day and never got the chance. The hot water sent chills down your spine as it ran though the rows of individuals and onto your scalp.

You grabbed your wash cloth drenching it in the hot water and placing it on your abdomen while you took a few deep breaths. The pain subsided minimally, but you took advantage and quickly finished your shower. Exiting the shower, you grabbed your towel and immediately went to the sink to brush. Instead of opting for your already simple night routine, you made it even simpler by just applying moisturizer, hair oil, deodorant, and chapstick.

You rewrapped your towel before bending down to pick up the clothes you were wearing earlier to put them in the hamper when you felt something run down your inner thigh. Thinking it was water, you wiped it away when you realized it wasn't water. You quickly cleaned yourself up before looking under the cabinet just to find that you never moved the new box of Tampax to the bathroom. Tears immediately started to well as you prepared to leave the bathroom. Buck could hear the sniffles and knocked on the door gently enough not to scare you,

"Baby?"

You didn't answer, but tried to move faster,

"Y/n?" He called through the door while pushing it open. He found you with your clothes bunched in your arms and tears in your eyes,

"Baby! What happened?" he asked as if you were a little kid. And well, you responded like one with your face bunching slightly and the tears falling freely. You couldn't help it. He might as well have asked, "are you okay?".

Buck waited with his eyebrows up, but not actual worry yet. He waited for you to catch you breath, soothing you through your spell,

"I started my period and my tampons are out here, but my cramps are too bad to leave a tampon in right now and I don't have any pads and I didn't want to wear underwear, to be honest. But now I have to pick one because it's usually light the first night so I would've worn my granny panties and no tampon and it would've been fine. But I don't wanna wear underwear," you sobbed out; the words basically strung togther.

"Hey. Hey. Hey. Baby. Baby. It's okay," Buck said bringing you into his chest trying really hard not to laugh. He would never laugh at your pain and/or the fact that you were upset. It was simply the reason you were upset. He held you in the threshold of the bathroom while you calmed down.

"C'mere, Baby." You followed as he grabbed your hand and led you around to the foot of the bed. He reached behind you and grabbed the shirt he picked out for after your shower. Buck unwrapped your towel, letting it fall on the hardwood beneath you. He inhaled deeply while shamelessly taking a flashing glance at your naked frame in front of him before sliding the shirt over your head. This drew an instant blush to your cheeks as you knew what was going through his mind. No. His reflexes. He went against his own instinct to push you back onto the bed and fuck you into oblivion.

He picked up the panties and chucked them across the room, earning a laugh from you,

"There she is," he said smiling widely, "think you can stomach some Tylenol?"

"Please," you said almost begging for a less painful nights sleep.

He walked to your side and grabbed the medicine and water he set out for you.

"You really thought of everything. Thank you."

"You're welcome. And almost everything," he said turning to leave the room. You were confused as you took the pain reliever, but relished in the way the water felt going down your stinging throat. You heard the thudding foot steps coming back and Buck coming back in, when he unrolled a maroon colored towel down on your side of the bed.

"Everything!" He said sticking his arms out and displaying his goofy grin. You were beyond grateful, but instinctively declined because you didn't want to risk anything,

"Y/n. This way everyone is comfortable and if anything happens, who cares?"

You take him on his word and climb into bed. He reaches for your scarf and helped you neatly wrap your hair. Buck leaned down to kiss you, softly running his tongue over your lips. You reach up and grab his neck when he groans begrudgingly and pulls apart. You smile, feeling warm that he still wants you even at one of your lower times. You snuggle in, getting comfortable with the new texture on your butt, while Buck strips down to his briefs and climbs in next to you.

You want to lay on your back, but the medicine hasn't kicked in yet and another cramp was coming. You turned over on you left side and curled into a ball. Buck immediately turned his body your way and brought you close. The cramp faded and you slowly uncurled,

"This sucks."

"I'm so sorry," Buck replied while kissing the good spot behind your ear.

"Mmmm."

"That sounds a little different than before. Does this-" *kiss* "-feel good?" *kiss*

"Mmm hmm."

"Mmmmm," he moaned lowly as he kept kissing that spot. He kissed a spot that was only 3cm over, but it tickled like no other, so of course Buck took advantage and kept kissing that same spot, then all over your face.

You were laughing hysterically when you couldn't breathe,

"Okay. Okay. OKAY! Ha Ha! Stop! Stop! Stop! Don't make me laugh! I'm not wearing underwear! Ha Ha!"

Buck let out a hearty laugh before diving in one last time, just to reach over you and flick the lamp off. While his torso was extended over your body, you could feel his semi-hard cock press into you. He plopped back down next to you, taking you back into the position he had you before. Your eyes were open, but you were surrounded by darkness.

“Mmm. I love you, baby.” He said lowly in your ear,

“I love you too,” you replied. Buck kissed your right shoulder, tightening his arm around you to bring your body closer to his. He rested his head down and got comfortable with you in his arms. As his muscles we tensing and relaxing with each movement, he let out a string of low hums and throat clears.

It’s nothing new. In fact it didn’t take you long to realize he’s just making boy noises. But this time, you’re feeling the vibration of his chest against your back and his mouth is basically connected to your ear. You start to wiggle slightly and let out little moans of your own, but they didn’t mean the same thing as his.

Or maybe they did.

He removes his arm from around your torso and starts to gently rub the side of your thigh, trying to get you settled. He planted one more kiss on your shoulder and you’re pretty sure he felt your body react. You take his hand and slickly snake it up to your chest. He pulls you once more, this time with more intent as he squeezes your tit.

He picked up right where he left off and started placing kisses to your spot again. His groans laced with lust and desire as he attacked your skin, nipping down to the side of your neck. You hips are grinding into each other. Your eyes go wide, realizing there is a point of no return and you're approaching it rapidly.

You halt your movements and push your hand back to stop Buck. Your chests are rising and falling, your bodies getting flustered so quickly.

"Buck. We've never...."

"And we don't have to if you don't want to."

"You want to?" You asked, craning your neck back to look at him in the dark.

"I crave you in any form you're in. So yeah, I want to. I want you." He whispered the last part like a sly fox.

"But-” you cut yourself off trying to think of an excuse as to why this is not a good idea,

“Let me help you feel good, baby,” He said, nudging your head back to the side to kiss your spot again. Your eyes close gently and your arm reaches back to hold his the nape of his neck. Buck begins to slowly grind his hips back into your t-shirt covered bum, nipping at your skin while still peppering kisses. His fingers hook your jaw and he brings your lips to meet his. It takes no time for the fight for dominance to take place, but you retreat. Letting Buck take the reins tonight.

Your kisses deepened, passion overcoming any lingering uncertainty. As your tongues explored one another’s mouths, giggles and warmth filled the air. It felt liberating, shedding the last remnants of hesitation and embracing the whole of each other, unfiltered and raw.

His hand travels down your silhouette, softly tracing his fingers along your thighs once more. He brought his body even closer into you, making you moan into the kiss. You reach back, palming his cock through his briefs and getting a similar reaction from him. Buck hand starts to inch in towards your pussy, causing you to break away,

"I'm okay tonight. I just need you."

"Are you sure, baby?"

"Mmmhmm," you say, pulling him back in. The truth is you were hesitant enough about having sex on your period and the thought of staining his fingers red was too much to handle right now. Buck moves his lips to nibble on your shoulder through your shirt as he frees his cock, wrapping his left arm underneath your body and puling you back to him like a little doll.

He rubs his cock against your slick hole before gently prodding. You lean your head back on his shoulder while he takes his left hand and lightly wraps it around your throat,

"Are you ready, baby?" He asks directly in your ear.

"Yes, please. I need you," you beg, reaching your hand back to pull him in this time. He chuckles lightly at your impatience and reminds you of your safe word. Buck finally pushed his hips forward, both of you moaning at the stretch. His movements were cautiously slow, paying attention to every single reaction. The pain was a lot at first, but focusing on the pain slowly turning to pleasure distracted you from the blinding cramps.

Your bodies moved together with a rhythm that felt as natural as breathing. Every touch, every whisper, felt electric. You was surprised to find how the experience intensified your sensations. Rather than feeling restricted by your period, you were allowed to feel empowered. You and Buck created a world for yourselves that night. One where you could fully embrace your desires without boundaries.

Buck transcended your whole being into an unknown world. You both thought you had little left to explore together, yet here you are with the love of your life on the adventure of a lifetime. The moans and deep grunts filled the room as you both chased down that high. When he knew he could, Buck applied more weight to your hip as he pushed himself up and deeper into your body. Practically now fully on top of you.

His thrusts became more frantic, yet never missed the mark. He lowered his torso over yours, cradling your angelic face and your orgasms crashed into both of you. His movements never stopped has beads of his sweat started to drip down on your from the tip of his nose.

Buck's hips finally slowed as he leaned down for a lingering kiss, the kind that lingered longer than any other, filled with warmth and connection that transcended the physical. In that moment, you felt closer than ever—a bond deepened by you willingness to break societal taboos and embrace your bodies as they were.

You welcomed his weight on top of you as your breathing started to slow. Rain began to patter against the window, and you two drifted off to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms. The night held no judgments, only the promise of a love that was true and unashamed, building a foundation on trust, intimacy, and the freedom to explore the beautifully messy reality of life together.

[storm-angel989]

Yo I love your work.. anyway can I request Val x Fem Reader when Reader is on their period and the rest is up to you (I’ll cry if you actually notice)

Hi Friend,

Thank you for sending in your request! I always notice and read a request- sometimes it just takes time for my brain to buzz.

Now I have written this before. The link is here:

Valentino x Reader (Period Pains)

That being said….

Here is another version! Think OTO reader and Val after they’re married. 

<3 Mandy

The bright red stains on my favorite pajama pants began the start of that cursed day. It was going to be one of those mornings that lasted all day. 

It didn’t help that I woke up alone, my husband off to do whatever it was he did in his studio. Vox and Velvette were working and me? I was by myself. Which, as I poured myself a cup of coffee and stirred in my creamer, I figured was better that way. 

I lifted the mug to my lips and took the first sip of what should have been a heavenly experience. Instead, I was met with the bitter taste of peppermint.  I spat it into the sink and went to set my mug down. Somehow I missed the counter and shards of ceramic splatted the floor. 

“Fuck!” I yelled across the empty flat. I grabbed a roll of paper towels and cleaned up the mess as quickly as I could, tossing the shards into the garbage. Housekeeping would be up later, but with how the day was already turning out, I didn’t want to risk stepping on a rouge shard. 

“Who the fuck puts peppermint into their coffee without mocha?” I growled aloud as I shoved the creamer back in the fridge. 

Of course, I knew the answer was Vox. As much as he pretended he only drank black coffee, those of us who lived with him knew his guilty pleasure. Random flavored coffee creamers that appeared in the fridge each time it was restocked. It was just my bad luck that I had grabbed the wrong one this morning. 

Shoving the thought of making another cup of coffee to the side, I jumped into the shower, willing the hot water to take away the cramps that slowly awakened with each movement of the day. Fuck, there were some days I hated being a girl. 

But, like all women, being on our period wasn’t an excuse to miss work. Going to see Velvette in her studio was always an option, but just the thought of being touched by another being made me annoyed. I gingerly dressed myself and pulled my hair up into a bun. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, I grumbled as I tried to hide the tiny whiteheads that appeared overnight with a strong dose of foundation. 

“Okay, I can do this,” I said to my reflection as I swallowed down several advil. “I got this.” 

Ten hours, eighteen phone calls and one ruined pair of underpants later, I stormed back upstairs to our apartment. 

“Babygirl, you’re home late,” Valentino’s voice rang out.

“I know, fuck,” I snapped without thought. The cramps, masked by the Advil I had taken this morning, left me both nauseous and crabby.  Every part of my body ached, and I could feel a headache starting to brew. I slammed the door behind me as I stripped off my outfit for the day. 

The bright red bloodstain on the back of my dress. I stared at it and without really knowing why, I burst into tears in the middle of my room. 

“Bebita?” Valentino’s voice came quietly from behind me. 

I felt him tug the dress from my hand and he wrapped his arms around me. I didn’t have to say a thing and instead laid my head on his chest as I sobbed. 

“Nothing a little stain remover can’t take out,” he said soothingly. “It’s alright. Why don’t you get in the shower? I’ll get your pjs and…”

“My two favorite ones are wrecked,” I choked out softly. “I bled all over the ones this morning, and my backups have a hole in them and…”

He pressed a finger to my lip and kissed my forehead. “Just let me figure it out while you go shower, okay?” 

There was something about he way he said it that left me with a feeling of comfort. I disappeared into the shower and by the time I came out, he was leaning against the bathroom sink, waiting. He handed me a towel and watched as I wrapped it around myself. 

“I have a heating pad and a cup of tea ready for you in bed. Toast, if you’re hungry. Advil if you want it. And if you’re in the mood to cuddle, I’m here. If not, I can stay with you or give you space. Remote is yours either way.” He pointed to a pile of clothes. “Period underpants. Vel sent them up. And…wear my pjs tonight. They’ll be looser than anything you own.” 

“Thanks, Val,” I said softly. “I’m sorry I was such a bitch when I came in.”

He cracked a smile. “Mi amore, I don’t think you know the true meaning of that word. Come on out when you’re ready.” 

I watched the door close behind me and got dressed in the outfit he left for me. I settled into bed next to him and sipped the warm tea. 

“I love you Val,” I said after a few moments. 

“I love you too, bebita. Even when you’re cranky,” he replied lightly. “And I always will.”

[idontplaytrack]

Can I request super flirty Amber x reader where Amber's flirting with reader but they are oblivious and eventually Amber can't take it anymore and kisses reader

Pretty Girl

Amber Appleton x fem! reader

Warnings: fluff, coarse language, kissing

Amber calls reader ‘pretty girl’— always have. But when exactly did that take a turn and become flirting instead of being platonic?

As the thunder roared outside, you were wrapped up under your blanket, comfy— no, sick and exhausted. You had just started your period the night before and have been tormented by the cramps ever since. The pain was so bad, it made you nauseous. You were also, hungry, bloated and craving all sorts of things that you wanted to eat, but at the same time…not really. It was confusing. You hated it, all of this— How terrible you were feeling. So much for a peaceful weekend.

Somehow, you felt yourself dozing off so you snuggled closer to your pillow and hoped you’d fully fall asleep. But hey, of course not. You felt the vomit creeping up your throat before you leaned over the bed and the trashcan, barely making it and letting it spill into the plastic under your mouth. It’s not like you much of anything left in your stomach, but did that stop you from feeling absolutely shitty? No way. Lazily cleaning off your mouth with a tissue you’d grabbed from the box on your nightstand, you stayed on your stomach, and just slept. Tried to, at least.

You woke up after what must’ve been no more than an hour, the rain had started to pour which would typically be the ideal for staying in, getting cosy and just lazing around. But now, you wanted nothing more than to get out of bed and do something with your day. Alas, you could not exactly move. The doorbell rings, making you groan. “It’s pouring out there. Who is it?!” You shrieked, scarily near tears.

The intercom buzzes, “It’s Amber!”

Shit.

You quite literally forced yourself out of bed and walk downstairs, your knees nearly buckled when you first stood up. God, why’d she have to show up now? You got to the door as fast as you could and opened it to let her in.

“Took you awhile.” She says while stepping into the house, “Hi, pretty girl.”

“Sorry.” You muttered, “I’m not—”

“Feeling too well?” She finishes your sentence, “I figured. Wish you would’ve told me.”

You slowly sat down on the couch, groaning, “How’d you know anyway?”

“Honey, I’ve known you, what? Fifteen years now? Give me some credit.”

“So you just figured out I was on my period and decided to show up at my door with…chocolate chip cookies?”

“Yeah, I took a guess.” Amber chuckles, “It’s not that hard to predict it, you know? You always get it around this time of the month.”

“Oh, how nice of you to know that.” You scoffed, leaning forward and burying your face in your hands.

“Did you eat anything?”

You gulped, “Nope, not since dinner last night. Also, I threw that up so please don’t talk about eating.”

Amber sits down beside you, a hand on your head and massaging it, “I’m sorry.” She then guided you to lay on her lap carefully.

You smiled at her a little, it quickly falls though, when you felt another cramp. “Are you sure you don’t want to take something for it?” Amber asks you softly.

“I can, but it’ll just come back up in a few minutes so I’d rather just wait it out.”

You haven’t seen Amber in awhile, honestly. But you knew she had like three part-time jobs that last time you asked her about it. So you figured that was what she was busy with. Oh, and by ‘awhile’, you meant like— at most two weeks. You two haven’t spent much time apart ever. And that’s considering the fact that she has her own little group of friends. You saw them pretty often too, and you knew them but you never really got that close with them even after all this time. But because you were Amber’s best friend, you were always hanging out with them anyway.

Damn, maybe you should really just open your mouth and talk to them more. They were really nice people.

“What’s wrong?” Amber asks, noticing that you’ve gone quiet.

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking about…stuff.”

“Oh, yeah? What kinda stuff, honey?” She looks down at you, bright smile on her face while her eyes formed into little crescents. Her hand was still stroking your hair.

“Random things…I dunno. Like how I gotta talk to your friends more and stop just floating around.” You hummed, “How I haven’t gotten to hang out with you for like two weeks because you’ve been working so many shifts. God, I hope you’re getting enough rest.”

Amber chuckles, “I’m fine. I quit the third job.”

“You did? When?” You ask, absentmindedly playing with the ring on the fingers of her free hand.

“Uh…” She says, her hand in your hair stops moving. You sulked, and she continues the soothing gesture but not without a tiny little laugh. “Like, three weeks ago?”

“Wow, and what have you been up to lately that I couldn’t get to see you?” You joked.

“Shut up, babe.” She giggles. You gasped dramatically and instantly paid for it when you got attacked by yet another cramp, “Babe? That’s a new one.”

She nearly snorted, laughing. Amber’s brows were raised briefly, “You really are so…”

“Don’t yell at me.”

“I’m not gonna yell at you, when have I ever done that?” She squints.

“Well, my mom just did this morning after I told her my cramps were terrible.” You scoffed.

“Do I look like your Mom to you?” Amber couldn’t help but laugh, “Has the pain somehow jumbled up your brain so bad that you’re just saying anything and everything?”

You didn’t know what to say to that you just kept quiet and snuggled more comfortably against her lap, now laying on your side. “Maybe.”

“That’s okay, pretty girl.” You could hear the smile, “I’m sorry you’re not feeling good.”

————

As you laid sleepily in her lap, Amber’s mind started to wander— seemingly recalling every single time she had hung out with you, analysing each day out, and night in…desperately trying to figure something out.

“You’re so pretty.” Amber says, tucking some hair behind your ear.

“Shut up.” You laugh, “I just tried to eat a donut while the wind was blowing in my face. Now I have powdered sugar in my hair.”

“I said what I said.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Ams.” You didn’t think too much into her little compliment— she says stuff like this all the time. Just to make you smile and giggle. “You’re pretty too.”

~~~~~

Walking through a crowded flea market, your eyes checked out each stall closely, not wanting to miss a good buy. Somehow, you feel an arm wrap around your waist. “Be careful. There’s a lot of people around.” It was Amber. Typical Amber being a worrywart.

~~~~~

“Amber?” You say in a hurry once she picked up your call.

“y/n, it’s 1:30 in the morning.” Amber replied, obviously just woken up by you, “What’s wrong, y/n?”

“Can we go get ice cream?”

“What?” She could not believe her ears. Amber could not believe that you called her at this hour just for that. But hey, she was so relieved that was all it was. Relieved that you weren’t sick or hurt.

“Can we go get ice cream? Please?” You repeated yourself.

“Okay, pretty girl.” She laughs, “I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes.”

You squealed, “Yay, okay.”

~~~~~~

“Amber, can you help me do my hair? I like when you do it.”

“Okay.”

~~~~~

“Amber, will you please do my makeup? I suck at it.” You groaned.

“Sure, honey.” Amber had her usual smile on her face, “Turn around.”

~~~~~

“Need some help?” Amber asks, watching you struggle to put a necklace on by yourself.

You finally saw her in the reflection and said, “Please.” Handing it to her, she took it from you and pushed your hair in front of one shoulder. Smoothly, she puts the necklace on for you in a matter of seconds.

“There you go.” She smiles, leaning her chin on your shoulder for a beat, her eyes looked at the heart pendant on your necklace then somehow wandered onto your chest. Mentally chiding herself, she gives you a quick hug from behind and then unwrapped her arms, “You ready for your date?”

“Not really.” You admit.

“Aw, you got this, pretty girl.” She gives you a squeeze on the shoulder, “Ben’s really nice.”

“You would know.” You managed a chuckle, “You insisted that you met him first.”

“Of course. He has to be good enough for you.”

~~~~~~

You were at the mall with Amber one Saturday afternoon after having spent the night at her place in the spur of the moment. Actually, that was the last time you saw her before today. So, anyway…because you didn’t have a change of clothes, you were wearing Amber’s clothes. Which was very, very different from your own style.

“Will you stop?” Amber laughs, swinging your hand as she held it, “You look good, okay?”

“Pfft, right.”

“Right.”

~~~~~

Or maybe…the defining moment was right now. Seeing you so pale, so disheveled. Yet, she was completely enamoured by you. She didn’t tell you though. She couldn’t. Because she knew how you’d react. You’d just think she was joking and brush it off. Nothing romantic’s happened between you and Amber, but yet lately, there’s always been the presence of tension from Amber’s point of view.

You on the other hand seemed completely oblivious to her being a little distant for the past two weeks while trying to work through her feelings and piece together what on Earth she wanted to say to you. She could only pray this wasn’t one-sided. Amber loved you too much to mess things up, that was why she said she was busy and didn’t see you for those three weeks. But at the same time, her patience was slowly but surely growing thin. Yet she still couldn’t quite figure out exactly when her calling you ‘pretty girl’ started to have a different effect on her— when she started to get excited to call you that, hoping you’d react the way she wanted you to. But you never did. So she threw in a new nickname, and you were still way too chill about it.

————

Amber didn’t know where that courage came from but…

“y/n?” She said quietly, wanting to get your attention but didn’t want to startle you.

Your eyes came into focus again, meeting her face, “Yeah?”

“I’m in love with you.” She reveals, and before you could even process her declaration, you feel her lips on your own— so soft, and so gentle. So addictive. Fuck.

You’d completely just gave into it, letting her take control as your hand reached up to cup her cheek. It was a bit of an odd position, but you were evidently still in too much pain to move.

“You do?” You tried breaking away for a second to speak but she doesn’t allow it, eagerly reconnecting your lips again. Amber did nod her head, reciprocating with increasingly passionate kisses.

“I fucking love you. I’m not sure when it started, but I am.” She literally speaks into the kiss. And upon hearing that, you could not let her lips go. That was all Amber needed from you. She didn’t even need to hear it— she was too riled up for that now, wanting nothing more than the constant feeling of your lips against hers.

After a mutual breakaway several minutes later, you were breathless and so was she. “So…” She started. “I meant every word I just said. Everything I just did. I want you, y/n, to be my girlfriend.”

“Okay.” You nodded, unknowingly, teary-eyed. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise sooner.”

Amber smiled so widely hearing your response, “It’s okay, pretty girl.” Now in tears, she sniffles and presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, “I have you now.”

“You do.” You nodded, mirroring her smile.

“I love you.” She says, her palm pressing lightly on your lower abdomen to give it some warmth and relief. “Does that help?”

You nodded almost too sleepily, “Yeah. Can you keep doing that please?”

“Of course.” Amber agrees, “Close your eyes, get some rest. I’ll wake you up when lunch is done.”

“No, don’t get up.” You slurred.

“I promise I won’t. Not until you’ve fallen asleep. Then, I’ll make us lunch. Okay, pretty girl?”

“Okay, Ams…okay.”

She chuckles over her words hearing how sleepy you were, “Okay. Sleep tight.”

————

🏷️ Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @reneeswif3 @ludoesartnstuffs @pda128

————

I’m distracting y’all from the fact that the AJ x reader x Capri isn’t even halfway done six days later

Also don’t know how to write a flirty Amber— I’m sorry🥲

[eva-knits12]

Ransom Drysdale takes care of when you're having your period.

Trigger warning: Ransom taking care of you, period stuff, Ransom buying you feminine hygiene products, mentions of a chronic illness, Ransom baking cookies, fluff

Summary: You're having your period, and Ransom wants to take care of you.

You and Ransom are dating and have been living together for quite some time.

You feel the cramps beginning. You feel it coming. You went to bed early because the cramping was starting to get bad.

"Oh, honey are you feeling better?" asks a concerned Ransom, who is stroking your hair away from your forehead.

"Oh, Ransom. I feel really bad, the cramps are excruciating," you respond, with tears in your eyes. You looked horrible, and were feeling worse.

Ransom picks you up and carries you to the bathroom, bridal style. You shut the door, and relieve yourself. As you wipe yourself clean, there is blood on the toilet paper. You dig through the bathroom cabinet under the sink, only to realize that you're out of pads.

"RANSOM!" you scream.

"Oh, sweetheart. Is it bad? Are you feeling nauseous?", asks Ransom. Your cramps got so bad sometimes that the pain made you nauseous and you would throw up.

"I'm still in pain, but I'm out of pads," you say. You roll up some toilet paper, and place it in your underwear. You wash your hands, and Ransom carries you back to bed, and kisses your forehead. He places a heating pad on you, and turns it on.

"Get some rest, sweetheart. I know you're feeling bad. I know how bad you can get," said Ransom. Right now, he would have traded places with you. He knew about your MS, he knew when you were having a good day, and he knew when you were having a bad. You were having a bad day on top of starting your period. This was just what you needed today.

"Okay, stay here. I'll go to Walgreens and get you some pads," Ransom said, kissing you on the forehead again.

Ransom gets his keys, and gets in the car. He drives to the supermarket instead, and grabs a cart. He was going to score some major boyfriend points right now, and what he wanted to get you would have been more expensive at Walgreens. Walgreens didn't have three aisles of baking supplies. He wanted to make you some cookies later.

Ransom goes to the feminine hygiene aisle first, and places the pads you use in the cart. He also places some overnight pads in the cart. He had never stuck around for this, but you were special to him. He then places Pamprin in the cart because that helped when you were having a bad period, like today. He then heads off to the baking section, and gets some real vanilla, some brown sugar, some chocolate chips, some flour, some regular sugar, and some of those dried cherries that you like. You grew up eating dried cherries.

He even goes to the chocolatier counter and gets you those truffles that you like, along with that peppermint bark that you like. He even gets you that chocolate ice cream that you like.

After Ransom pays for the items, he then goes to your favorite florist and gets you favorite flowers, along with a stuffed teddy bear that says Get Well Soon. The bear is holding a small jar of strawberry hard candy and chocolate kisses. The bear looks like Captain America.

Ransom comes back, only to find you deep in sleep. He unpacks the items, puts the ice cream in the freezer, and puts the chocolates in the fridge. He puts the flowers in vases, and puts the teddy bear on a tray.

Ransom gathers the supplies and starts to measure out the dry ingredients that he needs, and mixes them in a smaller bowl. He remembered to leave the eggs and the butter out, and he let them get to room temperature. Ransom pulls out a large bowl, and mixes the butter, eggs and vanilla. He measures out the sugar and puts in the bowl. He measures out the brown sugar and puts it the bowl. Ransom then mixes in the sugars, and then gradually adds in the dry ingredients. He then adds in the bag of chocolate chips, and even mixes in some of the dried cherries.

Ransom then places the dough in the fridge, and then fixes you some soup for lunch, placing the teddy bear on the tray.

You wake up, and Ransom arrives in the room with the tray.

"Are you feeling better, sweetheart?" Ransom asks.

"I am feeling a little better," you say.

"I made you something to eat. You need to eat something," says Ransom. You see the teddy bear on the tray, and you crash your lips onto Ransoms.

"I love you so much, Ransom," you say after you break the kiss.

"I love you, too," says Ransom.

Ransom feeds you the soup, and then gives you your book. You read for a while, and then fall asleep again. Ransom goes back to kitchen, pulls out the dough, and preheats the oven. He then spoons the cookies onto the greased cookie sheets, and then places the cookies in the oven when the oven is nice and heated.

After the cookies are done, Ransom pulls them out of the oven, and places the next two trays in. Ransom is like you, in that he always uses both of the oven racks to bake the cookies.

After a while, Ransom goes up to check on you, and your sleeping again. He kisses your cheek, and then goes back and checks to see that the cookies are cooling.

Ransom pulls out the last two cookie sheets, and sets them on the counter to let them cool. Ransom loves to bake, and Ransom loves to cook. For dinner, he makes some chicken with some rice on the side.

You hated having your period, and having MS on top of that made you feel worse. You had OT tomorrow, and you were going to need your energy for that.

Ransom wakes you for dinner, and he carries you to the kitchen, bridal style. You smell the cookies, and your mouth waters. You and Ransom talk and eat your dinner. Ransom gives you the flowers.

"Ransom, my sweet boy, you didn't have to do all of this", you say.

"Honey, I love you. I love you so much. I love you, MS and all. You are perfect to me. You will always be perfect to me. I know your periods make you really sick sometimes, and you're having one of those days," says Ransom. "I still love you, even when you're really sick like this," says Ransom.

In Ransom's eyes, you weren't defective. You had MS, and Ransom loves you more for it. He is amazed by your courage and your strength. You eat some of the cookies, and Ransom looks at you lovingly.

"I love you. You are perfect to me," says Ransom.

You give Ransom a loving kiss. He picks you up bridal style and carries you back to the bedroom. Ransom puts on his pajamas, and falls asleep next to you, and kisses your forehead. He wraps you in his arms, and doesn't want you to leave his arms.

[haidyn-reeves]

A No Good, Very Bad Day

Squares: Only One Bed, Bed Sharing Pairing: Dean x Reader Word Count: 1702 Warnings: Periods, if that bothers you.  Summary: After a crappy day, Y/N has to share a bed with Dean after getting him hurt on a hunt. For @supernatural-jackles Tell Me a Story Bingo (Only One Bed) and @spnfluffbingo (Bed Sharing).

Y/N was not having a good day.

It started in the wee hours of the morning, when she clutched her lower abdomen and whimpered in pain as she woke to her period beginning days earlier than expected. Of course, after she got out of bed to clean herself up, she couldn’t go back to sleep…even though her body was screaming for it. Y/N and the guys just finished back-to-back hunts and were finally back in the Bunker getting some much-needed rest. It was her first night back in her own bed in 17 days, and she had no plans to leave it any time soon. 

Dean, however, well he had completely different plans.

“Are you kidding me?” Y/N groaned, her upper body collapsing into a heap at the kitchen table, head resting on her arms. “We just got back and you already found another hunt?”

“Oh come on, it’ll be quick.”

“That’s what you said about the last three, and look how that turned out.”

“Okay, so I misjudged it. It happens.” The pair heard footsteps and looked up to find Sam stumbling into the kitchen, looking worse for wear. “Sammy? What happened to you?”

“Must’ve picked something up on the last hunt.” Sam’s eyes were mere slits on his face, cheeks flushed and nose red. It was a shock to both of them seeing him so sick, the last time being when he went through the Trials. 

“Well, looks like it’ll be just you and me, Sweetheart.” 

“Dean, I can come-“ Sam was cut off by his own sneeze.

“Absolutely not, you can sit this one out.” Dean placed the plate of eggs he was making down next to Y/N at the table. “C’mon Y/N, we’re leaving in the next hour.”

Y/N sighed and sat back up at the table, becoming nauseous at the sight of the food in front of her. She was hoping she’d be able to sit this hunt out and Sam go instead, but since he needed the rest more than she did, she knew she couldn’t let anyone see how bad she actually felt, even though her head was pounding, her back ached, and her insides were twisting into knots. 

She pushed the eggs around on the dish, Sam eyeing her suspiciously. She forced some food into her system, mostly so she could take some more pain killers. When she couldn’t take anymore, she hoisted herself up from the table, wincing and clutching her stomach as a cramp hit.

“Y/N, you alright?” Sam asked, getting up to help her. 

“M’fine,” she groaned, steadying herself against the counter. “Just got up too fast.”

“Y/N…you’re barely moving. If you don’t feel well, sit this hunt out. Dean can always go alone.”

“Dean’s counting on me, I can’t.”

Sam went to protest but Y/N shook her head, making her way back to her room to pack her bag. She didn’t like to use “lady problems” as a way to miss hunts, because she didn’t want Dean to think she didn’t take hunting seriously. Sam had tried several times in the past to get her to rest more when she needed it, but she always refused. She needed to make Dean proud, always. She was always seeking Dean’s approval even when she didn’t mean to.

Which is exactly how she found herself leaning against the door of the Impala as Dean drove angrily to the nearest motel.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know what’s going on with you today, but that back there? That can’t happen again,” he scolded. “You could’ve been killed back there!”

Y/N didn’t want to hear it. She knew she screwed up, she knew she was lucky Dean stepped in when he did, but she didn’t care right now. All she cared about was crawling onto the softest surface possible and passing out. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, closing her eyes to avoid the brightness from the headlights coming towards them.

“You better be,” he spat. She knew he was also angry because he got hurt, which was also her fault and she knew that, too. 

“I didn’t mean to, I-“

“I don’t want to hear it right now.”

She could feel the anger radiating off of him, which only made her feel worse. She just wanted to get away from him, so they could both calm down and so she could handle her period in peace. She hoped she could get her own room, she needed her own space.

“Sorry, we only have one room left tonight.”

Y/N looked at the man behind the front desk and scowled. Of fucking course.

She followed Dean to the room, Dean still muttering about how pissed he was at her. He shoved the key into the lock and opened the door, flipping the light on.

Y/N’s heart sank.

There was only one bed.

Normally, this would be great! Y/N would’ve jumped at the opportunity to share a bed with Dean, and had to on a few occasions prior. But none of those time were after he got hurt on a hunt because of her or while he was fuming with anger towards her.

“I can sleep in the car, you can have the bed,” she mumbled, picking her bag up from the floor and moving to leave the room. Dean grabbed her arm to stop her.

“Sweetheart, no. The bed is big enough for both of us. You’re not sleeping out in Baby. If you really don’t want to share, I can sleep outside, but-“

“It’s fine,” she whispered, putting her bag back down. “You can clean up first if you want.”

Dean made his way into the bathroom, taking a quick glance at Y/N when she wasn’t looking, before closing the door to use the shower. He knew he was being hard on her, something he hated having to do. He was mostly upset that she wouldn’t tell him what was wrong. He thought they had a good enough of a friendship that she could tell him whatever was bothering her. Normally he wouldn’t care that he got hurt, he was used to it, but if he was being honest, he was exhausted. He was tired and sore and cranky from the last hunting spree. He should’ve handed this one off to another hunter to handle.

“Bathroom’s free,” he said when he found Y/N sitting in one of the small armchairs. Y/N got up, grabbing her change of clothes and toiletries.

After taking a quick shower, Y/N was rummaging through her suitcase, looking for her trusty heating pad. When she couldn’t find it, she started cry, a sob ripping through her as a cramp sent her to her knees. Dean shot up from where he was sitting on the bed, rushing to her side.

“Sweetheart, WHAT is wrong?” She wailed into her hands, Dean pulling her to her feet. She yelped, clutching her stomach.

“I c-can’t…I forgot my heating-pad,” she whimpered, Dean holding her at his side to keep her steady.

“Why do you need your…OH.” It finally clicked. It ALL made sense. The little yelps throughout the day that she thought he didn’t hear. The way she clutched at her middle, wouldn’t really eat much…the signs were all there, signs he knew all too well at this point, and he didn’t even notice.

Dean walked her to the bed, Y/N squirming away from him in a panic. “Sweetheart-“

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she sniffled. “I already did enough damage today.”

“I’m fine, okay? It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before, we both know I’ve handled worse.”

“It’s my fault. I’m s-sorry-“

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want to disappoint you,” she whispered, Dean reaching out to wipe the tears off her cheeks. “I didn’t want to seem weak.”

“Y/N…no. You’re not weak for needing to rest because your body needs it. You should know that by now.” He shifted himself closer to her again, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and drawing him back into her side. “You should’ve told me, baby.”

She flushed at the new nickname, nuzzling herself into his side. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but more sorry that I got you hurt. My head just hurt so bad, I couldn’t think straight.”

“Next time, promise me you’ll say something. You’ll put your body’s needs before the hunt.” She nodded against his chest, Dean pressing a kiss to her head. “I’m sorry for being so hard on you today. I was just tired, I shouldn’t have taken this hunt. We all needed the rest, but you didn’t deserve how I treated you today.”

“It didn’t help, no.” She started shiver, the headache making her cold. “I’m so tired,” she mumbled, stifling a yawn.

“Let’s get you into bed then,” Dean smiled, taking in her sleepy state. He pulled the covers back and helped her settle against the pillows, crawling in beside her and turning the lamp off. Y/N curled herself into a ball, trying to keep warm under the thin motel sheets. “Sweetheart, come here.” Dean gently pulled her back against his front, wrapping himself around her as carefully as possible so as not to hurt her any more than she already was. “What else can I do?”

She pulled his arm that draped over her hip closer to her, guiding his hand to rest on her lower abdomen. She whimpered out a sound Dean assumed was supposed to be of relief.

“Is this okay with you?” She asked softly, embarrassed. 

“Of course, baby. Whatever you need.” He rested his chin on her shoulder, making himself comfortable against her back.

“Thank you, Dean,” she whispered, softly kissing his cheek before letting sleep finally consume her.

Dean grinned to himself, waiting for her breathing to even out before allowing himself to drift off to sleep.

The next time Y/N found herself on a hunt with her period, she found a small bin of supplies in the trunk of the Impala just for her, complete with a heating pad.

[cuddlepilefics]

Ginger Ale and Crackers

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Felix

Caregiver: Chan & Changbin

Prompt; @sicktember

No one's POV.:

About halfway through their afternoon dance practice, Felix' stomach had started to give him hard time. All the jumps they had been practicing had left his stomach unsettled. He had felt hesitant to drink anything during their breaks, afraid the next jump or turn would send it right back up his throat. That hadn't happened but Felix had admittedly barely had any water during the afternoon, so it wasn't much of a surprise that by the end of their practice, his head felt swimmy while also pounding painfully. With how much he had been sweating, he clearly had to be dehydrated, yet he was still unsure whether he should have a drink. They were done with practice, so there wouldn't be any more jumps but the thought of swallowing alone almost made him gag. Felix himself had no idea why he was suddenly feeling so bad. He had been fine this morning and hadn't eaten anything weird since then. Maybe he had just overdone it with his dancing, going all out, but that was what he usually did, yet he never felt like this after dancing. Looking at his water bottle with an almost disgusted expression, the Aussie shoved it into his bag and waited for his members to pack up, so that they could head home. He was exhausted, almost too exhausted to take a shower but he knew he'd be uncomfortable all night if he didn't.

Not daring to eat dinner for the fear of upsetting his stomach more, Felix crawled into bed right after taking a shower. He had been plagued with cramps the entire time he was in the shower and had barely managed to stand up straight, wanting to curl up into a tiny ball right there. When Chan came into their shared room to get the younger for dinner, he found the boy deeply asleep, hugging his pillow to his middle. Not having the heart to wake his dongsaeng, the leader left and quietly closed the door behind him. He made sure to save Felix some food in case he woke up hungry before telling the rest of the members to keep it down a bit. The next one to check on Felix was his other roommate Changbin. After dinner he went to their shared room to collect his headphones, finding the Aussie tangled in his sheets, groaning quietly. It worried him a bit, knowing how hard the younger had been working lately. Seeing him this exhausted was just heartbreaking for the rapper. He too decided not to disturb his dongsaeng, hoping he would get as much rest as somehow possible. It felt wrong to see their energetic sunshine like this.

Felix had stayed asleep the entire time, no matter how loud the rest of the members in the living room were. He didn't even hear his roommates come and get ready for bed. All he knew was that by the time he woke up again, both of them were sleeping peacefully in their beds. Unlike Felix, who had woken up in cold sweat. His breath got caught in his throat when he was hit with another cramp, the pain unexpectedly intense. Whimpering quietly, he felt his stomach turn, now more than certain that he was going to be sick. Felix heart sped up, knowing he had to get to the bathroom fast but afraid he'd be sick immediately if he as much as moved a single muscle. With adrenaline rushing through his veins, he rolled out of bed, hand clamped tightly over his mouth as he stumbled to the door. Throwing it open, he staggered down the hallway, dizzily crashing into the wall next to him. As he fought to get his footing, his stomach cramped, sending a gush of his lunch up. Feeling the warm mush spill through his fingers, the Aussie's eyes stung with tears. He tried to avoid the puddle as he dragged himself to the bathroom, collapsing to his knees in front of the toilet, instantly throwing up more.

Chan awoke with a start to their door slamming against the wall. Shooting up in his bed, he found Changbin awake as well, looking at the older with a horrified expression. Only a few seconds later, they heard a muffled cough followed by a splattering noise. Cursing, Chan got out of bed and hurried down the hallway, only barely avoiding the puddle of sick. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, light streaming through the crack. Hearing faint cries behind the door, the leader rushed to find Felix draped over the toilet, head buried in the toilet bowl. The dancer startled when he felt his hyung's hand on his back. "Ssh, you're okay", Chan promised, rubbing his back. Felix wanted to laugh at him, telling him that he was very much not okay, but before he was able to get a single word out, his stomach lurched again, a large wave of his lunch splashing into the bowl. Changbin had followed them not long after, frowning when he saw the position his friends were in. Felix' chest was hitching with quiet sobs, which certainly didn't help his stomach settle. Retching again, the dancer reached behind him and took a hold of Chan's had. He clutched onto it tightly as he kept throwing up. When he finally got a chance to breathe, he rasped: "Can you turn off the light? It's too bright." Changbin was quick to comply while Chan continued to rub his dongsaeng's back. "Do you have a migraine?", he asked carefully, afraid his voice would hurt the other more. Felix shook his head, gagging weakly before he was able to reply: "My stomach's been bothering me since dance practice."

Sighing, Chan brushed his hand against Felix' neck. "You're running a fever too. Is that new or did it start along with your stomach", he hummed worriedly. Giving a strained cough, the dancer groaned: "I don't know? I just knew that my stomach felt bad, so I wanted to sleep it off. Oh god, please make it stop." Before Chan could say anything, Felix had ducked his head into the bowl again, retching painfully. While the leader tried his best to comfort the younger, Changbin went over to the sink and ran a washcloth under cool water before draping it across the dancer's neck. They could barely see anything as the only light source was the hallway light streaming through the cracked door but they didn't have to see much, the short glance they had gotten earlier had been enough to see how ghostly pale their dongsaeng was. Felix seemed to be done for now and tiredly rested his head on his arms. He just wanted to go back to sleep. That was when he remembered the mess he had made on his way. "Ugh, I -I got sick in the hallway too", he whimpered, raising his head to look at his hand. Looking at the bits of his lunch still stuck to his hand only triggered another gag. When Felix was done, the tears wouldn't stop falling, his fever messing with his emotions. Handing him a wad of toilet paper to clean his hand with, Changbin whispered: "I'll clean that up... don't move."

While the rapper fetched the cleaning supplies and took care of the mess in the hallway, Chan stayed with Felix, helping him up from the floor, so he could wash his hands properly and handing him some mouthwash to get rid of the vile taste. As they made their way back to their room, Felix shakily clung to the leader's arm, his head spinning. "You're okay, almost there", the older promised, when Felix' legs suddenly gave out. Catching him around the waist, Chan picked him up bridal style and carried him the last few meters to his bed. The sheets were a mess and it took the oldest a while to detangle them, so he could tuck his dongsaeng in. Placing a bottle of water on the nightstand and pulling the trashcan out from under the desk, Changbin hummed: "Here's the trashcan if you need it. Try having some water when you feel ready, we don't want you to get dehydrated." – "Thanks", the younger rasped quietly, eyes already fluttering shut. Falling asleep however wasn't as easy. His stomach was still in knots, rumbling loudly. "Was your stomach making all that noise?", Changbin frowned, sitting down on the edge of the mattress, sliding his hand under Felix' shirt. The dancer hummed in confirmation, relaxing as the older stroked his stomach in soothing circles.

By the time Chan had to get up for a meeting with their managers, Felix had been up retching over the trashcan twice. Neither times was he able to bring anything up though, which wasn't surprising, considering he had skipped dinner and had barely had anything to drink. Although he hated to wake his members when they were sleeping, Chan carefully woke Changbin up by shaking his arm. "Hey, could you stay back from the studio today?", he asked quietly, afraid to leave Felix at the dorm by himself, "I'll tell the others to just go to their schedules as usual and come check on you two as soon as the meeting's over." – "No problem, I couldn't focus anyway, knowing he'd be sick and alone. I got him, hyung, don't stress too much", Changbin whispered, waving the older goodbye before going back to sleep.

The rapper woke up again hours later to a weight on his chest. Yawning, he tried to sit up, only to find himself pinned down. "Sorry, I was cold", Felix mumbled lowly. He had woken up not too long ago, his stomach still hurting but not as nauseous as he had been before. Instead, he was shaking with chills. Bringing his hand up to the Aussie's forehead, Changbin hummed: "Your fever's up. Did you try to drink anything yet?" The dancer shook his head not even opening his eyes. He really didn't want to be sick again, so he wasn't willing to risk it. "You're getting dehydrated, Lixxie. Isn't your head hurting?", he frowned, running his hand through his dongsaeng's hair. "It is", Felix admitted quietly, "But so are my stomach and throat. I'm fine as long as we just stay like this." Sighing, Changbin decided that they could stay like that for a little while longer before he'd try to get the younger to drink something again.

It was already close to lunchtime when Changbin decided he wouldn't let Felix go without having at least some water. Luckily, the Aussie was awake, merely resting with his eyes closed, because the rapper didn't think he could wake the boy. "Come on, Lix", he whispered, "At least have a few sips and if you let me get up, I can go and see if we have any medicine. Just not consuming anything isn't going to help. It'll only make you worse." – "Hyung", the dancer whined, holding onto Changbin's shirt, "Please, no." Though Felix had his hyung wrapped around his little finger, the older knew better than to give in. He wouldn't let his dongsaeng get worse. If Felix wasn't getting up, he would have to get the Aussie off of himself. Carefully shifting to the side, Changbin managed to slip out underneath the younger and gently removed his hands from his shirt. "Sorry", the older cooed, pulling the blanket up to Felix' shoulders and leaving the room.

Rummaging through the bathroom cabinet, Changbin found some anti-emetics and made his way to the kitchen. He knew Felix didn't want anything but after skipping dinner and throwing up, the dancer needed something in his system. Guessing that plain rice would be the safest option, Changbin grabbed a small bowl and took it back to their room. Felix' water bottle was still untouched on the nightstand. Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he ran his hand up and down his dongsaeng's back. "Can you sit up for me, Lix?", he hummed, peeling the blanket back. The Aussie let out a discontent whine but propped himself up on one arm. "Can you try and have a few bites of rice and some water for me? I also found you medicine", the rapper tried. Shaking his head, Felix insisted: "No, medicine yes but the rest no." – "How are you going to get the medicine down without water?", Changbin quizzed, "Come on, sunshine, for me?" The dancer huffed but shuffled around till he sat up against the headboard. Accepting the bowl of rice from his hyung, Felix eyed the food with disgust before forcing himself to take a small bite into his mouth. Slowly chewing, he pulled a face and handed the bowl back. Changbin didn't take it back though, instead giving the younger a stern look. Pouting, Felix forced down two more bites before handing the bowl back to his hyung, who traded it for the water. He also handed the dancer a pill, which he swallowed dry before taking one tiny sip of water. "Lix, I'm pretty sure you're already dehydrated. You did so well, I'm sure you can take another sip", Changbin hummed, earning a glare from the younger. Though he didn't want to, Felix had some more water before handing the bottle back.

His food wasn't settling at all and mere minutes later, Felix sat hugging his churning tummy as his mouth watered. "H-Hyung?!", he choked out, hand clamped over his mouth as his stomach gurgled. Noticing the boy's slightly greenish complexion, Changbin rushed to place the trashcan into his lap. He knew he had been pushing it but he had hoped the medicine would keep him from throwing up again. Sitting down next to the dancer, Changbin gently massaged his shoulders as they waited. With his breathing coming in nauseous little huffs, Felix felt the room spin around him, desperately holding onto the trashcan to steady himself. He could feel his food right at the back of his throat but it wasn't coming. Hesitantly, he gave a little cough, which was all it took for his stomach to send everything up. Though he was pretty sure, everything he had just consumed had come up in one rush, Felix couldn't stop his throat from contracting with unproductive gags. Coughing, he choked out: "I hate you." – "I know you do", Changbin sighed, comfortingly rubbing the younger's back and brushing his sweaty bangs from his forehead. He felt sorry for making the Aussie sick again but if he kept going without keeping down any water, they'd have to take him to hospital.

When Felix finally deemed it safe to remove his head from the trashcan and lean back against the headboard, his forehead was glistening with sweat. His shirt clung to him making him feel even more disgusting than before. Changbin grabbed the trashcan and placed it down on the floor. "Let's take that off, hm?", he asked, gently pulling the dancer's shirt over his head, "Are you still cold? Do you want one of my hoodies as compensation?" Felix nodded tiredly, barely finding the energy to lift his arms, so the older could put it on him. "How about a change of scenery? The others are gone, so you could nap on the couch. We could put on some boring drama in the background", the rapper offered. Nodding, Felix rasped: "Sounds like fun but... Can you carry me? I don't think I can make it there." – "Sure thing", Changbin chuckled, picking the younger up. Placing him down on the couch, he told the dancer to wait there, so he could get a bucket and his water in case the Aussie would let himself be talked into drinking something. After getting everything settled, he lifted Felix' head and placed it on his lap, so he could play with the younger's hair. Exhausted from the whole ordeal, it didn't take long for Felix to drift off again.

While Felix was asleep, Changbin texted Chan about the dancer's condition, emphasizing that he really couldn't keep anything down at all. Now becoming more worried too, the leader stopped by a store to pick up some ginger ale and crackers for his dongsaeng. He hoped those things would settle better, at least he knew that that was what their families had always used in such situations. If it didn't help settle his stomach, it might at least give the younger a sense of home. While walking, Chan already started to shake the bottle of ginger ale, opening it repeatedly to get rid of the fizz. He quietly entered their dorm, not wanting to wake Felix up if he was resting. The sight looked truly pitiful. The dancer laying on the couch with his head in Changbin's lap, face white as a ghost except for a faint feverish blush on his cheekbones. He was wearing one of Changbin's sweaters, arms hugging his middle in his sleep. Chan wordlessly waved at Changbin, not wanting to disturb as he went to the kitchen to pour a glass of ginger ale. He also grabbed a small plate and put a few crackers on it. They looked really lonely but he'd already be happy if he could convince Felix of having a few of them.

Hearing a hushed conversation in the living room, the leader figured Felix had woken up and made his way over to them. "Hey, Binnie told me you're still not doing so well", he whispered with a sympathetic smile. The dancer shook his head and glanced at the things Chan was carrying. Realizing he was most likely supposed to eat that, he couldn't help but grimace already. Crouching next to the couch, Chan rubbed his arm through the hoodie and hushed: "I know you don't feel like eating that but we need to get you back on your feet somehow. You always used to eat those, right? Don't even have to be many crackers." Groaning, Felix sat up and rubbed his face. He knew Chan was only trying to help, Changbin too had meant well but his stomach was till so upset. He didn't think he could stomach anything. "I got all the fizz out of the ginger ale, so hopefully it will settle a better", the oldest mused, glancing at the box of medicine Changbin had left on the table, "Have a cracker and then just try having this medicine again, please?" Scrunching up his nose, Felix nodded and accepted one of the crackers. He took his time, nibbling on it. It didn't feel that bad on his stomach, so he nibbled down another one. The ginger ale really reminded him of home and he gladly took the medicine again. Sitting on the couch, he rested his head on Changbin's shoulder. Every once in a while, he took a small sip until the glass was empty and he laid back down to let the older lure him back to sleep.

[funtimebunnyblog]

Nobody really asked for this but uhhh... I kind of needed it 😶😇😂 Please excuse me for being self indulgent for this one time! ❤❤❤ But most of all, please enjoy! 😘

The Pillarmen (separate) with an s/o on their Period...

(Under the cut for length!)

(Warning! This contains content all surrounding a Woman's menstruation cycle and all the absolute joys that come with it 🙃 like: graphic descriptions of pain and blood, more blood and lots of blood. Viewer discretion advised! In other words, you have been warned...)

Kars:

• Chances are, Kars will always be long prepared for your periods monthly arrival.

• Even in the time when you were first getting to know each other, he picked up on your cycle patterns quickly.

• The first time you confided to him you were on your period he was prepared then too, pulling out a fresh pack of pads for you seemingly out of nowhere.

• The way you reacted, he'd swore he had just pulled a rabbit out of a hat.

• From then on he knows exactly when it will happen, he's done all the calculations and has the date marked on his desk calendar.

• When the day comes, he'll have a box of stuff already waiting for you by the bed; a hot waterbottle, some chocolate, pads/tampons, a bottle of Motrin, you name it.

• It's no surprise that even if you happen to be late or early he'll still be prepared; heck, he'll take one look at you and know.

• If you're cramping or feeling bloated and icky he knows some good teas to help you with that too.

• Kars is also prepared for the emotional and intensive side of things when you're undergoing your cycle.

☆

The door creaked open quietly, a tendril of light cutting through the dark as the wrapped head of Kars poked into the room, ruby eyes settling on the lumpy form quivering under the pile of blankets covering the bed.

He had heard you crying from the hallway one his way back to his Office.

The Pillarman's lips came together, however, he didn't hesitate for a moment as he stepped further into the room. "My dear," he spoke, approaching the bed. Your shaking form visibly tensed right up. It was obvious you hadn't even heard him come in. "Is your back giving you grief again?"

You had started just a day ago and of course things were carrying out as usual; cravings, back pain, nausea, all things he expected.

What he didn't expect was your answer, which was a wet sob, words muffled as the blankets moved; a shake of the head was his only coherent response.

He only frowned, the bed dipping with a low creak as he sat down on the very edge right at your back where you laid curled on on yourself under the covers.

"Your stomach then? You feel nauseous, is that it?" He pressed.

Another shake of the head, his sharp ears strained to hear the watery response from underneath the thick layer of blankets, leaving Kars with no choice but to finally peel away the barrier covers between you and him. Your very red and very wet face was finally revealed to him, your lips knotted and quivering as you sniffled.

Your state was only worrying him further, it was plainly obvious you had been crying for some time and on top of things, you weren't even looking at him.

There was an unmistakably guilty look to your watery expression.

"What is it then?" He asked, a huge hand plucking the stray hair from your soaked cheeks and eyes. "What's wrong? I need you to talk to me, dear."

His pressing only made the tears come much harder, his hands instinctively going to your back and rubbing softly.

"I'm sorry, Kars..." came the staccatic whimper.

He blinked twice, "For what?"

"I ruined the sheets!" You cried, hugging yourself tighter. "I... I laid down because--because my back was hurting again and I f-fell asleep and when I woke up it was just... all over the place!"

Your Husband listened to you quietly, suddenly coming to the realization that the bed had indeed been stripped of the sheets beneath the blankets; you were only laying (probably not very comfortably) on the thin white plastic mattress cover. His eyes drifted to the far corner of the room where the ruined fitted sheet and the thin matching over sheet had been simply balled up into a big lumpy wad and thrown there.

"You ruined your pants as well then," he hummed, remembering that you had been wearing a particular pair; your favourite fuzzy lounging pants with the stars on them.

A nod was his only response this time.

Kars let out a sigh, leaning down to lay his head on your shoulder. "Oh, my sunshine, it's alright. We have plenty of sheets, one ruined cover is nothing to me."

"I--"

"I know you didn't mean to." He cut you off, already knowing what you were going to say, his gentle ministrations unceasing. "It was an accident, I would not expect you to have control over something like this. These things happen. We can always get new sheets and buy you more pants and undergarments."

It relieved you to know he wasn't upset with you over this, or worse disgusted by the prospect of your mess, and you found yourself letting out a shakey breath you didn't know you had been holding.

The covers peeled away and you nearly yelped as you were suddenly hoisted into his arms, the Pillarman carrying you right out of the room without another word.

"Wh-What are you doing?" You squeaked, your confusion making the remainder of your tears ebb a little more.

"I'm taking you to get cleaned up." He answered without missing a beat. "No doubt you're probably still soiled, so you're going to take a nice hot shower. I'll leave you some fresh clothes and replace the sheets while you're in there and then we can crawl into bed and watch that program you like."

"I-- I thought you had work to do tonight." You said, watching him owl eyed as he set you down gently on the toilet and began to putter around the bathroom, pulling towels down from the cupboard and turning the shower on.

He hummed, "Oh, my work can wait until the morrow. My duties as your Mate come first, you know."

You felt a quivering smile tugging at your lips as he peered over his shoulder with a soft smile, cocking an eyebrow at you.

Kars was undoubtedly the only one in your life who could sweep up the shattered remains of a problem and fabricate it into something treasured.

He was the only one who made a this week out of every month truly bearable.

Esidisi:

• Growing up, Esidisi had been around the Women of his tribe and his Family a lot.

• He's definitely prepared for something like this and even upon first getting to know him, you could talk to him openly about it.

• These kinds of things don't faze him in the slightest; you're a Woman and as long as you're healthy there was no issue.

• Esidisi will almost always be able to tell whenever your monthly cycle is approaching, being an intuitive man and all.

• He knows your behaviors and habits and he can easily spot your telltale signs leading to your period, like: any erratic sleep patterns, a shift in your overall mood, your eating habits taking a sudden change, any ofd facial acne popping up, etc.

• He'll definitely be prepared for the day it does hit because he makes sure to go out and do all the necessary shopping prior.

• When your period does hit, it basically hits both of you.

• If you get emotional, he gets emotional; when you're in pain, he's in pain.

• Half of the ordeal might just consist of both of you crying and holding each other.

• The other half of it consists of him doing his very best to help you feel better and alleviate any discomfort you happen to feel.

• However... his methods in doing so are very unconventional.

☆

You did your very best to lay still as the calloused pad of a thumb swiped along bare skin, just under your navel, where you lay; leaving not only a trail of paint but a ticklish sensation that nearly made you giggle.

However, it was easy not to laugh while feeling nothing but waves of uncertainty and mild irritation rolling over you amidst all this.

The deep timber of Esidisi's voice thrumming out the tones of a mantra in some language you couldn't identify did little to comfort you as you laid there before him on the bed. You were dressed only in your underclothes and already painted with several other sigils along your body as he finished the one directly over your womb.

The room was dark, save for the light of two candles, one at each bedside table, allowing you to see him partially where he stood over you in the shadows.

His eyes, normally two sapphires glimmering, shined like rubies in the dark; animalistic and a reminder that he was something indeed inhuman.

You weren't really one to believe in rituals, especially not while you had some Motrin in a bottle downstairs that would fix up your prediciment just fine, but your Husband insisted on this instead.

You were starting to regret telling him you were still cramping with every sigil he drew and every stone and flower placed particularly around and over you.

"Esidisi," You whined. "Is this really necessary?"

The Pillarman's rythmic chanting fell to an abrupt halt at your words, his eyes fell on you incredulously.

"Of course this is necessary!" He cried. "You want the pain to stop, don't you?"

You grimaced, "Well, yes, but I just think this is..." teeth dug hard into your lower lip as your Mates brow came together, full lips twisting and arms folding over his chest as his gaze burned holes into you, awaiting the end to that sentence.

What could you possibly say that wouldn't hurt his feelings?

That is was a bunch of hoo-hah?

That he didn't know what he was doing or how a Women's body worked?

That the ancient medicine of his people that he was still using was something long outgrown in today's society?

That it most definitely wouldn't work and it was a waste of time?

"This is, what?" He pressed, chin raising as his foot began to tap quietly on the floor.

You could feel sweat sticking uncomfortably to your skin, or perhaps that was just you suddenly becoming increasingly aware of the feeling of the oil on your body he had slathered you with prior, as you fumbled to finish.

"Er... that is is... a little.... much?"

A bare brow cocked as he echoed you. "Much?"

"Well, I mean, you've painted at least 13 symbols on me now and you've smudged the air with so much sage my head hurts and the crystals and the flowers and... just the whole shebang here..." your hand went up to guesture to everything that was laid out, things both on you and on him.

His attire was something close to ridiculous in your eyes; he was even more naked than usual! Dressed in nothing but feathers covering his nether region and his usual hat, he stood before you covered in swirls of orange paint all along his body rather than just his cheeks.

"Isn't this just a little much?" You asked, unable to stop the frown from tugging on your lips.

Esidisi blinked owlishly, "Well, how else am I supposed to banish the evil spirits from your uterus and alleviate your pain?"

It had greatly surprised (and upset) him to find that the medicines and practices he was weaned on as a child had faded away into non-existence along with the name of his people.

Apart from Kars, who had taken to (ugh) more "modern" practices with those placebos and chemicals made in labratories, there didn't seem to be a soul out there who knew how to properly do these things!

Esidisi wasn't going to let you suffer or be harmed in any way shape or form, not when he knew how to stop it. He had learned early on how to cleanse the womb and heal it of any harmful curses or diseases that would happen to plague you. His Grandmother had been the one who had taught him and he had spent his youth putting them to much practice.

If you thought that this was much, you were definitely going to be in for a surprise for when you became pregnant one day; he planned to preform regular hour long sessions daily then.

You couldn't stop yourself from sighing, a hand reaching up to give a light slap to your cheek as you groaned.

You would just have to explain to him what really caused all the pain of menstruation. "Honey, there's no evil spirits--"

A finger pressed to your lips, stalling anymore words from falling from them. "Shh, beloved. You mustn't keep disrupting the ritual." The man chided softly, leaning down to press a dotting kiss to your brow as he swiped the final line of paint over it. "Now just lay there and let me handle this. Trust me, you'll feel better in no time."

Your lips turned downward as you watched him step back to fetch his singing bowl, sighing softly to yourself as you adjusted the bouquet of herbs and flowers that he had pushed into your hands.

It was hard to get comfortable when you could feel the mint leaves he had scattered in your hair scratching against your scalp and the orange peeling he had stuffed it on your bra was an entirely different matter all together.

You supposed that somehow it could've been worse and you had to be content that this was relatively harmless all in all.

At least the hollow ring of the singing bowl and the continuation of his mantra would put you to sleep while he carried out the rest of this ritual...

Wamuu:

• Admittedly, Wamuu knew very little on the concept of Women and their monthly cycles; until you came along into his life that was.

• He knew how it worked of course and that it indeed happened but embarrassingly, he had sort of... forgotten about it in a way.

• Really, you supposed you couldn't blame him. This wasn't exactly something that was part of his everyday life, growing up with only 3 other Males the majority of it.

• The first time he happened to smell blood off you, it sent him into a panic and he immediately thought that you were hiding an injury from him; demanding to know where it was so he could treat it.

• Embarrassed, you tried to be discreet and prod him gently in the direction of what was happening. However, every code word for it just seemed to fly over his head; inevitably confusing him further.

• "It's high tide." "What? Beloved, we do not live by the ocean." "Er... the blood moon has risen?" "The blood moon isn't supposed to appear for another few months. And it is daytime, beloved." "Uhh... It's shark week?" "Why are you talking about a T.V. program at a time like this?"

• Finally, after a long, LONG session of going back and forth like that, you had no choice but to scream that you were on your period.

• Wamuu's beat red face and his impossibly huge eyes will be an image forever burned into your brain.

• After that, even though he wasn't exactly an expert on such matters, Wamuu did his best to at least be attentive to your needs.

• He does his best to understand your patterns and the entirety of what exactly you go through.

• He's always checking in on you every so often, sheepishly asking if you're feeling ok or if you need anything.

• Just say the word and He'll get you pads or food or water, perhaps even a distraction like a movie...

☆

The wet sounds of sniffling hitting his eardrums was what caused Wamuu to be roused from his deep and comfortable sleep, the Warrior blinking in the dark of the room and instinctively raising his head to locate the source.

"Beloved," He breathed, eyes falling onto your form. You were also awake, your back to him and sitting on the edge of the bed, curled in on yourself. His lips fell into a frown as you continued to sniffle, now trying to stiffle the sound upon realizing that he too was awake now.

Wamuu slowly pulled himself up into a sitting position, "what's wrong? Why are you awake?"

It was still the dead of night, just a little past 1AM, he couldn't think of a reason for you to be awake and crying other than the possibility of you having a nightmare.

" 's nothing..." you hiccuped, scrubbing your eye. "Go back to sleep."

His frown only deepened, scooting across the bed to get closer to you. "No. What is it? What has you so upset?" He pressed, an arm encircling around your quivering form. "Did you have a nightmare?"

A particularly harsh sob cut through you as you shook your head, burying your face in your hands as if trying to hide from him, "No! Go back to sleep!"

Chartreuse eyes softened considerably, the massive man only hugging you closer to his body as he chose to press further.

"If it's not a nightmare than what is it?"

"Oh, you'll laugh!" came the moan.

"I will not laugh." He replied, quite matter of factly.

"You'll--... You'll be angry!"

His brow knitted together sternly, one huge and warm hand wrapping around your much smaller one, uncaring of the fact it was wet with tears.

"I will not be angry. Please, just tell me why you are awake and crying, my love."

You fell silent, save for the staccato of your hiccupped breaths, Wamuu waited with all the patience in the world.

"I--" you paused, swallowing thickly. Your expression contorted in an almost painful manor, a hand slamming over your eyes as you only began to sob harder than before. "--I want... CHICKEN NUGGETS!"

The Pillarman blinked in surprise, that confession had completely taken him off guard. You were crying over food of all things? At 1 o'clock in the morning?

Realization washed over him, making him frown deeper for only a second as he suddenly remembered the fact that you had started your monthly menstrual cycle yesterday evening.

You must've woken up craving and hurting, of course those things would drive you to cry helplessly like so.

If anything, the Warrior was relieved it was nothing serious.

Wamuu smiled softly, only hugging you tighter to him. "Will chicken nuggets get you to stop crying?" He asked softly, carding his fingers gently through your awry bed-head hair.

You coughed, sniffling as your whimpered response rose up from your throat painfully. "Yeah,"

He nodded, "Alright. How many do you want and what kind?"

You sniffed a few times, managing to calm down enough to tell him what would suffice enough to satisfy your hankering. Wamuu pulled on a simple hoodie and some pants as you talked, he even asked you if you wanted to come with him but you declined, not really in the mood to go very far.

He put the Television on for you, turning it on to a program and kissed your head, telling you he'd be back with an order of nuggets, a drink you liked and perhaps something sweet to enjoy after.

You felt guilty for troubling him with something like this, it was even worse that it was at an ungodly hour in the morning but Wamuu didn't care about those things, what mattered to him was your comfort, your happiness and your needs met...

Santana:

• Much like Wamuu, Santana isn't very much educated on the subject of menstruation and your cycles when first getting to know you.

• However, he could tell immediately that something was happening to you even before your cycle started.

• He mentioned that you had a stronger smell to him, like your hormones were given a signifigant boost. He claimed he could also see that you looked a little softer somehow.

• After sitting him down (a little embarrassed) and explaining to him what was going to happen soon, the dots connected for him and he understood.

• You were his Mate afterall and he followed his natural instincts to care and provide for you.

• He doesn't really like letting you out of his sight when it does happen, preferring to keep you close to him and he'll help you out in any way you need.

• You have to be specific with him though. If you send him to the store telling him that you need tampons, he might just come back with the entire isle of boxes in tow.

• This whole thing is always a learning experience to him, even though he can't undergo the same thing he does his best to understand and at least be attentive.

☆

"Oh c'mon..." you groaned, practically begging now as you curled in on yourself on the bed. "Kick in already!"

You had taken that Motrin over 10 minutes ago and still nothing was happening, your back was still aching and your stomach was cramping.

It was impossible for you to move now, you had laid down and there was no way in Hell you were going to get up again until all the pain was gone.

However, you were very much regretting not having the foresight to grab your heating pad on the way here, at least with that it would make it bearable but alas, it was all the way downstairs.

You couldn't even get up without fear of fainting or worse; ruining your pants.

Another wave of nausea shot through your gut, curling up in an icky tendril to your throat straight from the pit of your hurting stomach. All you could do was try to breathe; breathe, ride out the pain, hope it would be over soon and try not to vomit because of it.

A litany of begging was now falling through your lips like a prayer, pleading for anyone or anything listening to make it stop. Tears were beading at the corners of your eyes threatening to fall as your spine felt like it was being twisted, rung out like one would a wet rag.

"Please, please, please stop." You grit, hands turning to fists. "Please, please make it stop."

Little did you know your pleas didn't go unheard.

Santana watched you from the doorway where you couldn't see him, peering in with a thoughtful frown and a tilt of his head. Each quiet moan and whimper made his hands instinctively grip the door tighter, fingers digging harshly into the wood.

You were having a hard time. You were in a lot of pain and he hated to see you as such.

With only a moments thought, the Pillarman knew what he had to do, taking off quickly down the stairs; his feet barely making a sound on the steps.

Your back was hurting, he could see it in the way you kept trying to roll onto it. You used a strange device to help, one that emanated heat with a click of a button. His eyes scanned the living room for the familiar blue fabric with the white chord.

He snatched it off the couch, tucking it under his arm as he went into the kitchen next, finding himself opening and closing cupboards and doors without really knowing what he was looking for this time.

You had already taken one of those pills and he was certain you said something before about having to wait a couple of hours before you took another so that was out of the question.

The bright colours of your waterbottle sitting all by itself on the kitchen counter caught his eye. He didn't know how long you would be up there resting so maybe it was best to put it by your bedside for when you needed it. He also grabbed a couple of snacks from the cupboard, simple wrapped treats you enjoyed here and there.

He put the bottle under the tap, making sure to only stop until it was filled right under the brim with cold water.

Water... hot water. The red-head blinked, humming softly to himself as the gears turned in his head.

Your stomach had been obviously giving you grief as well, it didn't go unnoticed by him that you were clutching it; trying to curl in on yourself. You had something you used to help that too, he had seen you fill it up a few times before.

Waterbottle and heating pad under arm and snacks clutched to his chest, he went back upstairs. He went right past your room and straight into the bathroom, prying open the closet and digging around for the strange rubbery sack he could clearly see in his memories.

He pulled it out triumphantly, the object limp in his grasp like a pelt as he turned on the tap. He waited until the water was hot enough to make steam rise up from the sink before plunging it under to fill and corking it.

His arms now completely full, he shuffled back to your room with the goods; pleased his little scavenger hunt was successful.

There you lay, right where he had left you; from the look of it you definitely hadn't improved.

You were so consumed with your own discomfort you didn't even hear him or see him.

Santana approached the bed quietly, setting the waterbottles (both hot and cold) down on the nighttable with the snacks before fumbling with the heating pad, plugging it into the wall.

The massive hand being laid on your side startled you somewhat, eyes popping open with a shudder before being greeted with the sight of your one and only Mate standing over you at the bedside with a frown.

"Roll over." Came the quiet command, his hand pushing you further onto your side and slipping something familiar underneath you before easing you onto your back again.

"Santana, wha--" was all you could manage out.

Santana clicked it onto the medium setting, reaching for the hot-waterbottle next and holding it up for you to see. He draped the wiggly rubber sack over your stomach, an audible "bloop!" sounding from inside as your arms instinctively curled around it with a sigh; already relishing in its warmth.

The bed dipped as he crawled in next to you, the Pillarmen kindly pulling the blankets up around you both as he curled into your side protectively.

You could feel the heat seeping slowly into your back, the pain starting to ebb somewhat and the heated weight over your stomach was soothing; it all left you near to deliriously blissful.

You realized belatedly that he had brought you all of these things without you even having to ask, you turned your head with a sleepy smile, meeting the gaze of the red-head. He was so sweet you swore at times your heart would melt.

A hand reached up to tangle in his mane of wild hair, "Thank you, honey..."

The Pillarman nuzzled into your neck, almost purring at the gentle touch. He had made you better and that was enough to leave him content for now.

"I will always take care of you, my Mate..." he murmured, smiling softly as you closed your eyes and slowly fell asleep. It wasn't long after that he did the very same...

[cryptids-and-muses]

Blood and Bonds: Chapter 1

Ao3

The field was lit by the last rays of daylight. Just enough so Sypha could see the warlocks doing this perfectly. There were 10 or them, all in matching cloaks. Most of them gathered around the stone altar in the center of the field. The altar sypha was tied to.

“Oh Valefor! Duke of Hell! Come forth with your many heads and many limbs….” the warlock chanted as sypha struggled against the bonds tying her to the rock. They limited her magic but she struggled anyway, refusing to just give up.

“You’ll regret this.” She spat, but the cultists paid her no mind.

Trevor thrashed, restrained by two of the cultists, “If you so much as touch her I’ll rip your arms off and shove them up down your throat!” He shouted.

The head warlock didn’t listen, instead rising an ornate dagger to the sky, “Oh lord of thieves! I Beseech thee, accept this offering! Fill our bodies with her strength! Fill our veins with her blood! Fill our minds with her knowledge!”

A hiss escaped Adrian as he tried to stand. Struggling against the invisible weight pressing down on him. The mage in front of him smirked, and Adrian felt the weight increase. His vision blurred as he tried to breath under it. Tried to do anything.

Sypha tried to call her magic. Tried to slip her hands out of the chains. Hell, she even tried to kick the man leading the ritual. But nothing worked. The head warlock’s chanting reached a climax, “Valefor! Steal this offering’s power and make it our own!”

He brought the knife down.

Sypha screamed.

Something in Adrian snapped.

Trevor heard a snarl and the room exploded into chaos. A flurry of movement Trevor’s mind couldn’t keep up with. Just a red blur and the sounds of an animal attack. Claws tearing through flesh. Screams. The wet sound of bodies hitting the floor.

Then, just as suddenly as it started, everything went still, and Trevor could see the aftermath of whatever just happened. Blood drenched every corner of the field. Limbs and other bits of gore were scattered around in some grotesque display. The two men who had restrained Trevor were heaps on the floor. One had been torn open from collar to stomach. His intestines hanging limply outside of his body. The other’s heart had been ripped out, along with several bits of rib that had gotten in the way. But Trevor barely noticed. All his attention was on Adrian.

If he could even call the thing in front of him by the same name.

He stood by the altar, at the center of the carnage. His white shirt had been stained dark red, and was speckled with chunks of gore. Some of it even hung in his hair. Bits of flesh hung from his claws, still posed to strike at a moments notice. And his face…..Trevor felt nauseous looking at it. There was no humanity there. No concern or recognition. No trace of the man he loved at all. His lips were curled into a snarl, exposing bloodied fangs. His lips and chin were smeared with the stuff. Solid red eyes stared at the corpse at his feet. The man who’d stabbed Sypha. His throat was torn out, and around the wound were the tell-tale impression of vampire teeth.

Trevor’s hand fell to the morningstar, “......Adrian?”

There was no response.

Trevor's grip on his weapon tightened.

But then Adrian blinked, and the red cleared from his vision. What happened? He’d been pinned and then he heard sypha scream and then....

Rage.

He remembered rage. Like nothing he’d never felt before.

But everything else was blank. A sea of red and adrenaline.

He shook his head, trying to clear the remaining fog. That’s when the smell hit him. The smell of blood hung thick and choking in the air. Adrian looked up in panic, and finally got a good look at his surroundings. His eyes widened at the carnage laid before him. The butchery.

He staggered back.

What. Had. He. Done.

Adrian covered his mouth. His hand came away wet. He realized there was blood on his lips, on his fangs, that he could feel it sliding down his throat-

He fell to his knees and vomited. Bile and freshly swallowed blood splattering the grass below him.

Sypha knew something was wrong, but the world swam around her. The only thing she could make out clearly was the searing pain in her stomach. Her boys, she needed to get to them. Something was wrong and she needed to find them. She tried moving, but heat shot through her body, making her cry out.

“Sypha!” Trevor ran to her. He could see the blood soaking into her robes. She whimpered as he tried putting pressure on the wound. “Shit,” they needed to do something, fast. He looked over at their third, who was still staring in horror at the destruction around him.

“Adrian!” Trevor snapped, this time more forceful. They didn’t have time for this.

Trevor’s voice broke Adrian out of his spiralling. He looked over at the altar and it hit him. Sypha . He scrambled to her side. Those horrible chains were still around her wrists and ankles. He snapped them, and tried to not think about how much easier it was than usual.

Trevor looked around the field, “We need to leave.” There was a brief hesitation as he glanced at Adrian, “Can you carry her?”

Adrian was shaking. He ran a hand through his hair, god it was in his hair, but nodded. Focus on now, on what he needed to do. He could worry about what he’d done later. He scooped sypha into his arms and began to walk back to the town they were staying at. Pointedly not looking anywhere but ahead.

Trevor didn’t let go of sypha’s hand. He was silent as they walked, unable to get the image of Adrian with blood red eyes out of his mind.

------

It was silent as Adrian tended to Sypha in the cramped inn room. She fell asleep part way through, Adrian continued to clean her wounds. Trevor watched him from across the table while holding sypha’s hand. Neither met each other’s eyes. The tension in the room was palpable.

Eventually Adrian puts the cloth down, and lets out a shaky breath, “She’s going to be fine.”

Trevor nods, finally letting go of her hand. The silence stretched on.

“Are you going to tell me what that was?”

Adrian looked at the floor, “I don’t know.”

Trevor’s jaw tightened, “You killed ten people in the blink of an eye. You bit a man’s throat out.”

“I don’t know!” He shouted back, he hugged himself, “I’ve….I’ve never lost control like that before. I didn’t even know I was capable of that.”

Trevor sighed, “Do you remember what was going through your head?”

“Barely. I just remember sypha screaming. Then everything went red.” Adrian didn’t meet his gaze.

That oppressive silence fell again. This horrible distance between them. It took a while for Trevor to build up the courage to speak again, “I still love you, and I swear to god I always will. But.....”

Adrian gave him a sad smile, “But you can’t trust me.”

Trevor opened his mouth, then closed it again. He could still see specks of gore tangled in Adrian’s hair.

“It’s okay,” Adrian looked at the floor, “I can’t trust myself either.”

It was painful to see him like this. So distraught and scared, but Trevor forced himself to keep talking, “We can’t just ignore this. Pretend like it can’t happen again.”

A sob tore out of Adrian,”I can still fucking taste him. Can feel his blood giving me strength. I feel like a monster . If this happens again….” He was shaking, “I-I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Trevor took Adrian’s hand, “Don’t worry. I won’t let you.” He gulped, “If this happens again-“

Adrian’s eyes snapped to Trevor, “No.”

“But-”

“ No.” Adrian squeezed Trevor’s hand, his still teary eyes full of determination, “I know what it's like to have to kill someone you love. And I refuse to put you or Sypha through that. I would take myself out before I made either of you do it.”

Trevor’s throat was dry.

But what if, he wanted to say. What if you’re so far gone I don’t have a choice.

But he didn’t, he just stared at Adrian with sad eyes, “Okay,” he pulled the dhampir into his arms, hugging him tightly, “Okay.”

He wanted to say something reassuring. To tell Adrian it would be alright. But He couldn’t. So he stood there, holding Adrian as his love cried into his shoulder.

[janeyseymour]

Have You Been Taking Care of Yourself?- a fanfic

prompt: Have you been taking care of yourself?

WC: 2044

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for Jane Seymour to be seen around the house, around the theatre, around the town doing what she could for others. It was very rare that she ever took the time to take care of herself, although she would tell you that by taking care of others she was taking care of herself. 

“Okay guys,” Jane addressed the group as she loaded the dishes from dinner into the dishwasher. “So, tomorrow we only have a night show- no matinee. I’ll clean up around the house in the morning, but then I promised Val I would help out at the library for a little bit- you know just clean up some of the children’s sections and organize a bit. You know how kids can get.” 

The blonde closed the door to the dishwasher before forgetting that she didn’t put in the dish detergent. “Do you think you could all manage to get to the theatre on time? Because Joan wants to run that new little lick that she thought would go well in my song before we put it in. And then the next day, I think I’m going to volunteer at the food pantry in the morning before the shows, but I was thinking we could all have dinner after? I’ll cook. And oh, Kat: don’t think I’ve forgotten about that shirt I told you I would embroider.��� She closed the dishwasher once more, this time loaded with detergent before pressing the start button. Turning to her family, she put her hands on her hips and looked at the youngest. “I’ll do that after the show tomorrow.”

“You sound like you really have your days planned out for the next few days,” Catherine noted diligently.

The third monarch grinned. “I like to stay busy. Now, I’ve got to go to my room to coordinate a few things for tomorrow with Val, but I’ll be sure to make my rounds before I head to bed. If you need me, don’t hesitate to knock, yes?” The other five queens nodded their heads, watching in wonderment as the woman dressed in grey made her way up the stairs.

“Does she-” Cathy started.

“There’s no way she doesn’t,” Anne finished.

“She’s well aware that Edward's birthday and her death day are coming soon. She’s doing what she can to distract herself,” Catherine stated as if it was obvious. “She isn’t ignoring it, although she’s doing her best to try.”

“How are we supposed to help her?” Kat wondered.

“I suppose we just let her live. If she wishes to distract herself, then sobeit. We just have to be there when she breaks.”

“I think we can do that,” the fourth queen affirmed.

A week had passed, and Jane was still on the move- desperate as ever to get her mind off of her son and her untimely passing. Only, it was getting harder. 

Any time she slept now, Edward haunted her dreams. Sometimes it was his birth all over again, the feeling of a three day labor returning. Other times, it was as though she was an angel watching over him as he mused his wishes for his mother to come back. Once it was the blonde boy confronting her angrily over her death- how could she leave him with such a horrible father, and wasn’t she supposed to be the first woman he would ever love; but he would never get that chance since she had the audacity to slip away from him before they could properly meet. 

The blonde had been making meals for the queens for days now- something that each of the other queens knew was Jane’s way of coping. The third queen was already in the kitchen cooking or baking more than the others ever were, but it was more and more that the house smelled of something sweet being baked. Jane never ate any of it; she gave it away instead to those that she loved: her family, the food bank down the road, those at the theatre she thought could use a pick-me-up. The thought of food at this point made the woman nauseous. Not knowing if she could stomach the food, she had resorted to supplementing with a protein shake before continuing on with her hectic days she had planned. 

“So, are we going to ignore Janey’s death day like she is or...?” the second queen questioned after the silver queen had excused herself from the table that night. Edward’s birthday had come and gone, and it seemed as though Jane was doing just fine.

“If this is how she’s coping with it- I know it isn’t necessarily healthy- but who are we to try to get her upset over it?” The writer wondered aloud.

“I’m not sure she’s coping with it very well though,” Kat sighed into her hand, half asleep. “Last night when I went to her room, she was wide awake. I didn’t think she’s been sleeping at night, so I stayed awake all night. She was awake too, until like five in the morning. I could practically hear the gears in her mind turning. Once she fell asleep, I did too, but when I woke up she wasn’t asleep anymore.”

“She was downstairs and saw me out for my run at six this morning,” Cleves muttered. “Has she not been sleeping at all these past few nights?”

“If you’ll excuse me, I think I have to go talk to Jane.” Catherine pushed herself up from her seat before beginning to make her way out of the room.

“Don’t you think-” Parr started.

“Querida, whatever is happening is far more unhealthy than Jane just letting herself break. Someone needs to talk to her,” the gold queen stated triumphantly before continuing up the steps and towards the grey room.

“Jane, love? Can I come in?” When the first queen heard no response, she assumed that the third queen was finally getting the shuteye she needed, but her light was still on. Turning the knob and letting herself into the room though, she found a puffy-eyed Jane Seymour awake and trembling.

“Oh honey,” Aragon sighed as she made her way across the room.

“I thought I could handle it this year,” the blonde winced as she busied herself with folding laundry. “If I just continued on like it was any other day, I thought I could handle it.”

Catherine plucked the shirt out of the trembling woman’s hands before folding it and placing it in the pile. Grabbing another, she asked, “Have you been taking care of yourself? Like, really and truly taking care of yourself? None of that ‘by taking care of others, I am taking care of myself’ shit.” Jane shook her head defeatedly.

“I haven’t slept more than two hours a night in the past two weeks, Lina. Every time I close my eyes, all I see is him.”

“Him?” The gold queen froze, the pants in her hands half folded.

The silver queen looked at Catalina for the first time since she entered the room before solemnly whispering, “Eddie.”

“Oh honey.” The pair of pants having been dropped to the ground, the elder queen embraced the third with all the love she could muster up. “You must be exhausted.”

“I am,” the younger monarch’s voice broke a little as she buried her face in the other’s shoulder. “I haven’t been able to eat either. I don’t think I can stomach anything at the moment, and I haven’t been able to since three days before his birthday.”

“When you went into labor,” Catherine sighed, a wave of sadness twinging through her for her friend. Jane nodded. “I’m so sorry, love. Why didn’t you-”

“Because I knew you would all dote on me, and I just don't know if I could handle that again. It’s like it makes it worse when you do. All that swims through my mind is Edward and the fact that I-” the younger queen pulled away from the woman dressed in yellow before mumbling, “-I failed him. I thought if I could take care of others, it would help me like it usually does but...”

“Querida, this is a completely different situation, and you did not have to go through it alone.”

“I’m sorry,” was all the troubled woman could breathe out.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for honey. But instead of taking this all on by yourself and constantly caring for others, why don’t you let us take care of you for a change? Nothing has to be out of the ordinary.”

“How would we even do that?”

“We treat it as though you’re on your period. I’m assuming you’ve been having phantom pains that you’ve just been ignoring?” Catherine voiced. When Jane meekly nodded, the first queen all but scooped her up into her arms and placed her in her bed. “I’ll be back in a few moments.”

“Please don’t leave me,” the blonde whimpered out. 

“I won’t be but a few minutes,” she assured the woman in bed. When she noticed the pout that was beginning to grow on the younger woman’s face, Catherine pulled out her cell phone to text Kat. “What if I had Kat come keep you company while I just do a few things downstairs? I promise you I won’t be more than ten minutes.” Seeing that Jane seemed content with the plan, she asked the fifth queen to come keep the third monarch company for a few minutes. 

“I’ve been summoned?” the pink haired queen joked before sliding onto the bed next to her maternal figure. When Jane grimaced in pain, Katherine immediately backed off.

“No, no, please come here. I’m fine.” The blonde waved a hand dismissively. “Just a bit of cramping, but nothing will stop me from-”

“Say no more Mum. You just tell me if you get uncomfortable, and I’ll help you in any way I can,” Kat told the woman gently.

Satisfied that Jane was finally taking a moment to rest, Catherine made her way out of the room.

When Catalina walked downstairs, she heard the television playing softly, but all eyes were on her.

“So?” the television show now forgotten about, the four women on the couch were staring at her curiously.

“She hasn’t slept more than two hours each night since three night’s before Edward’s birthday. She hasn’t eaten much since then either, unsure if she could stomach anything other than a light protein shake in the mornings. It’s no wonder she looks like absolute hell: the malnutrition along with the lack of sleep would have anyone looking like a zombie.”

“And yet she still looks like our Janey, although a few pounds lighter if I do say so myself,” Anne noted.

“Her sweater did look a bit bigger on her now that you mention it,” Cathy added on.

“So what are we doing about it?” Anna looked ready to help in any way she could.

“She doesn’t want us to make a big fuss over it. Says it makes it worse than it already is. I told her we could handle it like we handle any particularly bad period for any of us.”

“I’ll go get the heating pad.” Cathy stood from her place and headed to her room.

“I’ll make some toast,” Anne replied and made her way to the kitchen.

When Catherine gave her a stern look, Cleves sighed. “I’ll go cut up some bananas for the bread and make sure Boleyn doesn’t burn down the house making toast.”

“Very well. I’ll be in Jane’s room.”

That night, Jane slept peacefully with her five housemates by her side. For the first time in three weeks, the blonde queen was able to close her eyes without being harassed with terrible thoughts flooding her brain. Instead, her dreams were pleasant: a young blonde boy, a striking image of Jane (no Henry could be detected in this boy), enjoying the day with his mother- the five other queens included.

When the third queen woke up the next morning, she was greeted with a breakfast made by the house’s very own Catherine of Aragon. At her place sat a note:

Take care of yourself, and when you can’t: Let us take care of you.

[sneezyminniejo]

I would like to request a sick Taehyung as a stomach bug

This got away from me a little bit, so I apologize for that, but I hope you enjoy

Tw emeto

Tubby Custard

Taehyung was absolutely miserable. He had woken up in the middle of the night feeling like absolute crap. His stomach was cramping and it was making him feel incredibly nauseous. He needed some sort of relief quickly, but has never been good with taking medicine, liquid, tablet, or otherwise. He could really only take medicine if it was mixed in with food, so he went to get himself something simple to make. Lucky for him, he made sure they kept stock of vanilla pudding. Primarily for this purpose.

Unfortunately or fortunately for Taehyung, his stomach threatened to empty itself just as he was passing the bathroom. He quickly ran to the toilet and got the lid up just as his body began heaving. He ended up puking for a solid minute or so before his stomach calmed down.

Taehyung knew he was sick, but also knew he needed to take his temperature. Using the counter to support himself, he got up to look through the cabinets. He stuck the thermometer in his mouth as soon as he found it and sank to the floor, as he didn't have enough energy to stand after puking.

He began to doze off just as the thermometer beeped, but his brain was far too fogged up for him to properly read the numbers. Just as he was about to call for one of his hyungs or Jungkook to help him, his stomach contracted somewhat violently. Taehyung didn't have enough warning to even try to get back to the toilet which was only like a foot away. He ended up puking sitting right where he was all over himself.

Yoongi had stayed later than he should have at the genius lab, and was just now returning home. He couldn’t help but notice that someone had left the bathroom light on, and when he went to go turn it off, he was met with the sight of Taehyung sitting in a pile of his own sick looking absolutely exhausted and confused.

Taking another glance at the younger was all Yoongi needed to know that Taehyung had a fever. It was just a matter of knowing how high. Instead of going for the oral thermometer that was also sitting in Taehyung's pile of sick, Yoongi went for their infrared thermometer. A quick scan told him that the fever was pretty high, and since the younger needed a bath anyway, he filled the tub up with lukewarm water.

"Tae-ah, I'm going to get you cleaned up. Do you need help getting undressed?" Taehyung barely registered the question and replied, "Hyung, I don't feel good." Yoongi took that as confirmation and started to help Taehyung get undressed . Taehyung's temp seemed to go down a bit and he appeared more coherent. At least enough to realize that one of his hyungs was bathing him.

"Thank you Yoongi-hyung" Yoongi smiled at that. "You're welcome tae. Can you tell me what happened?" Taehyung nodded. "I woke up feeling sick, so I went to get some medicine, but before I got to the kitchen I puked." Yoongi nodded at that then quickly went to grab some clean clothes for the sick boy. When he returned he helped Taehyung get dressed and then brought him to the couch.

"Okay Taehyung-ah, I need to get some medicine in you, I'll be right back." Yoongi quickly went to the kitchen and was greeted by Namjoon who was filling a bucket up with soap and water.

"Hey hyung, I was coming here to get a drink of water and noticed that someone got sick in the bathroom. I decided to clean it up then check on the members. Do you know what happened?" Yoongi nodded.

"I think Taehyung has some kind of stomach bug. He's got a fever and told me he woke up feeling sick and was on his way to look for some medicine. My main priority has been cleaning him up and getting him set up on the couch. Thanks for cleaning it up Namjoon-ah"

Namjoon nodded "no problem hyungs, I'll call the managers when it's a more reasonable hour." Namjoon went off to clean the bathroom.

Yoongi went back to the living room with the medicine, and was frustratingly met with resistance from the younger. "Taehyung. You need to take these meds to make you feel better. You even said you were looking for medicine when you got sick." Taehyung just shook his head "no meds unless I have tubby custard."

Yoongi was very confused at that statement. "Tae-ah, what do you mean by tubby custard?" Taehyung opened his mouth to answer, but instead quickly grabbed the trash can and began puking.

Yoongi didn't think he'd get much of a response from Taehyung after that so he went to see if Namjoon might know what tubby custard is seeing as he's the leader. " Namjoon-ah, Taehyung says that he'll only take his medicine with tubby custard. Do you have any clue what that means?"

Namjoon chuckled a little and paused his cleaning before answering. "I don't know the specifics of why, but I know that Taehyung has always had trouble taking medicine and told me one day that he puts it in vanilla pudding and calls it tubby custard. He had a pretty bad fever when he told me that, so I don't know if he remembers. Just put his meds in vanilla pudding and give it to him."

Yoongi was now extremely curious about the why, but figured it could wait until after medication has been consumed. He easily found the pudding and began making the tubby custard, being simultaneously glad that he doesn't have to try to get the younger to eat but also worried that he won't keep it down.

Yoongi now had two cups of pudding. The one with the fever reducer had tinged orange, and the one with the stomach medication had turned pink. He personally would never eat this but if it would make his dongsaeng feel better, so be it. "Tae-ah, I have two things of tubby custard for you to eat." Yoongi set the cups on the coffee table and watched Taehyung closely.

Taehyung wasn't quite ready to take any medicine yet. He was going to throw up again soon and wanted it to happen before he ate. As the nauseous feeling began to grow, he could feel saliva build up in his mouth. He quickly grabbed the trash can again and hiccuped a couple times before gagging rather productively. He could see Yoongi cringe in his periphery, but nonetheless the older began rubbing his back. It was another several moments before Taehyung deemed himself empty and pushed the can away a little. He grabbed one of the pudding cups and began eating.

"Are you sure you're okay to be eating Tae?" Taehyung nodded, "yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm done puking for a little bit." Yoongi wasn't entirely convinced, but didn't really respond because Taehyung probably knows his body the best. Curiosity eventually got the better of him and he asked about the food choice.

"So, Tae-ah what's with the whole tubby custard thing?" Taehyung pondered for a moment before explaining. "When I was a kid I couldn't really take tablets without choking on them, and the flavor of the liquid stuff frequently made puke or come really close to puking. One day my mom decided to see what would happen if she mixed my meds into pudding. I was really reluctant at first to take anything, because I didn't want to feel worse than I already was. I was also really obsessed with teletubbies at the time, so my mom told me it was tubby custard." Taehyung then grabbed the second cup and began eating it. After a moment Taehyung grinned, "at least that's what my folks told me when I asked them why we always called it tubby custard."

Yoongi didn't feel comfortable leaving Taehyung on the couch by himself, so he decided to stay up with the younger. He also went about sending a message in the group chat so that the more squeamish members wouldn't be caught off guard if Taehyung started puking around them. He turned on the TV and made sure the volume was low, then cleaned out the trash can before making himself comfortable on the couch next to the sickie.

At some point the duo had fallen asleep and were awoken a couple hours later by Seokjin. He gave both of them some rice porridge he had made after seeing the text regarding the sick member.

While Taehyung had kept down the medicine pudding concoction while he slept, he was overcome with an intense feeling of nausea when he was woken up. It was almost as if his stomach had gone to sleep. In his sleepy haze, he had forgotten that the trash can was right next and moved to get up with his hand clamped firmly over his mouth.

He didn't get much farther than standing up before he was pulled back down and the trash can placed directly in front of him. A split second later an almost projectile stream of vomit came out of his mouth and spilled into the can. Yoongi began to rub the younger man's back and could feel that the fever reducer only helped a little bit if at all. He glanced at the clock and noticed it was too early for another dose of medicine. As Taehyung gave one final heave into the can, Hoseok and Namjoon walked into the room looking rather irritated.

“So I have good news and bad news.” Namjoon started, “I got the majority of Taehyung’s schedule cancelled today, so he can take it easy for the most part.” Namjoon paused, but before he could continue, Hoseok interjected. “Manager-nim says the dance instructor is very strict about attendance and unless you’re in the hospital, you have to show up.” Taehyung and the others groaned at this because under no circumstances should Taehyung be leaving the dorm unless he were going to the doctor.

Jungkook, who had heard everything from the kitchen, popped his head around the corner, with a somewhat maniacal grin on his face. “So the dance instructor is going to have to deal with two sick members? One knowingly and the other unknowingly?” Everyone looked confused before Jimin returned the same maniacal grin. He went to help get Taehyung’s things together and simply said one phrase to get the others on the same page. “You know how Hoseok-hyung gets around puking.”

The seven members made sure to put Taehyung and Hoseok in separate vehicles on the way to the company, but were all a little pleased about the unintentional comeuppance the dance instructor was about to get. By the time they got to the dance studio, Taehyung was essentially dead on his feet. The instructor took one look at him and told him to stay on the sidelines for the duration of practice. Yoongi made sure to place the trash can within arms reach of the younger and went to join the others.

The first two songs went rather uneventfully. However on the third song, Taehyung began to feel the all too familiar sensation of his stomach churning. He quickly positioned his head over the trash can and began gagging. It wasn’t long before Jimin took note of his fellow 95 liner and he went over to comfort him until the bout of vomiting passed.

It was only a couple of moments before the sound of liquid splashing into the plastic bin could just barely be heard over the music. The instructor decided that the vomiting was interfering too much with keeping count with the beat of the music. This turned out to be a mistake on the instructor's part, but worked well for the other six members. As the vomiting became much more audible, Hoseok went to drink some water in hopes of staving off his own episode as much as possible.

Taehyung leaned away from the can when he deemed himself empty enough. The instructor gave him a look and asked him if he was done. Taehyung nodded and Hoseok continued their plan. "You know what, I'm not feeling too well either. I think it would be best if we just called it a day." Hoseok told the instructor, hoping that they would get turned off at the prospect of having two contagious sick men in the room.

It turned out the instructor didn't really care and said that Hoseok looked fine so they turned the music back on. Hoseok managed to keep his own stomach in check for considerably longer than he was expecting. He made it about halfway through the do over of the current song before he couldn't hold back anymore and he wound up bent at the waist puking all over the floor.

Jimin quickly turned off the music again while Seokjin went to alert the janitorial staff. Meanwhile Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, and Jungkook packed up everyone's bags and helped the two sickies out of the room. Namjoon made it quite clear to the instructor that they wouldn't be doing dance practice with at least two members down and quickly texted the manager that Hoaeok had fallen ill during the dance practice.

When the seven members arrived back at the dorm, Yoongi went to the kitchen while the others got Taehyung and Hoseok settled on the couch. Hoseok's stomach was still hurting a little from throwing up and Taehyung looked about ready to pass out.

Before Taehyung could fall asleep, Yoongi returned with a tray of three pudding cups. One orange and two pink. "Tae-ah, I have some more tubby custard for you." He placed the tray on the coffee table and gave the orange cup and one of the pink ones to Taehyung. He ate both with no complaint, then fell asleep shortly thereafter.

Once Taehyung was fast asleep, Yooongi gave the other cup to Hoseok. "Seok-ah eat it, it'll help your stomach a bit. Hoseok looked completely skeptical. "Hyung, no offense, but what the hell is tubby custard and how will this help my stomach?" Yoongi just chuckled. "Tubby custard is just medicine mixed in with pudding. It's Tae's preferred way of getting medicine. In your case, I mixed Pepto bismol into the pudding. It'll help calm you stomach a little and give it a little bit of protection if you get sympathy sick again. I also made you a cup because I know you don't particularly like drinking medicine." Hoseok nodded, still a little skeptical, but ate it nonetheless.

The members took it easy for the rest of the day. Seeing as Hoseok was easily able to remove himself from the room when Taehyung got sick, he did not get sympathy sick again. Thankfully Taehyung hadn't gotten sick for the rest of the day, but he did get sick the following morning. They also continued the ruse of Hoseok having caught the bug to keep the dance instructor off their manager's back until Taehyung was fully recovered.

[anastasiabeaverhousen87]

Praying to the porcelain God

words: 3205

You been told before never to eat from suspicious food stands, especially if you never tried them before or if Kara or Alex haven’t already approved the food. But today you forgot your lunch at home and the food from the cafeteria was not very appealing for you. One of your co-workers saw you make faces at the food options and invited you to eat lunch with them. They were going to get burgers from a new street vendor a couple of blocks away. It was too tempting; you love cheeseburgers and they made it sound like they were really good. So, you said yes. Everyone was going and you were starving.

The following day you woke up feeling a little odd, a bit nauseous but you didn’t think anything about it. You got a chamomile tea instead of coffee and went about your day as usual. Kara was already gone so you just decided to grab a yogurt and granola bar at work.

You finished getting your things ready and were about to leave the apartment when you felt a sharp pain in your stomach followed by cramping. You went to the bathroom and removed your sweater, you felt a swelling of your abdomen and yes, you lower abdomen was inflamed and felt tender to the touch. Another painful cramp made you run to the toilet and you knew you were screwed the moment you sit down.

y/n: “Fuck!!!, ughh it hurts…damn it, Alex is going to kill me” – you didn’t leave the bathroom for a while, you lamented your poor choices while you were sitting in the toilet seat.

 You decided you needed to let someone know you felt like shit and wouldn’t be able to get to work with further incidents, so you called Kara. Kara was softer and if you play your card right maybe she could be the buffer between Alex’s lecturing and you.  You dialed her number and put it on speaker while washing your hands, you were standing Infront of the sink mirror and put the phone down.

 Kara: “Hi sweet girl, what’s up?”

You were about to respond when you felt nausea hit hard, you saw your reflection become green and you ran to toilet once again. Just in time for you to continue emptying your stomach contents, tears sprung into your eyes as the pain in your stomach grew stronger and effort of being violently ill into the porcelain bowl.

On the other side of the line, Kara was listening to you suffering. “Y/N baby? What’s wrong, where are you?” but at not getting a response she ditched everything to fly straight home following your heartbeat.

You stopped vomiting and felt exhausted, you spit into the toilet and flush it.  You use toilet paper to clean you mouth and drop to the bathroom floor exhausted.  Kara enter the apartment looking for you.

Kara: “y/n?, oh my God what’s wrong baby?”- Kara panics at looking at your body sprawled in the bathroom floor all pale and clammy.

y/n: “Ughh best guess? stomach bug. I just puked my guts out, and before that I emptied my bowels in a different way” - you grimace at the explosive diarrhea you went through less than half an hour ago.

Kara: “Oh sweetie, I’m sorry you feel so poorly. Come on, let me pick you up from the floor”- the blonde woman tries to pick you up, but you feel like you’re not quite over.

Y/n: “Kara, I don’t think I can move quite yet and the floor is cold, it feels nice” –you move a little on the floor to get more of the chilly sensation on your hot skin- “I feel like crap sissy” a tear runs down your cheek and you look up to your sister. Kara brushes the tear away and cradles the side of your face. You are about to move again into a sitting position when you feel your stomach painfully cramp again and you roll into a fetal position trying to make the pain lessen somehow.

Kara: “Oh baby, looks like a horrible stomach bug. But I’m so bad at human illnesses let me call Alex really quick, she is the best when it comes to this kind of things.” Kara looks desperate and seeing you so sick on the floor. Kara is now sitting next to you holding your head in her lap and running her fingers through your hair.

Y/N: “You can’t, busy. Summit in New York” – you mumble trough clenching teeth.

Kara: “I know she is busy with work, but she can take a phone call if it’s an emergency. Its her or the ER. Your call.”

y/n: “Alex…” – you much prefer hearing your helicopter sister ask a thousand question that being prod and wait in the Emergency Room.

Kara takes her phone out of her pocket and dials the number; it rings a few times and then it connects.

Alex: “Hey what’s up, everything okay?”- the red head asks immediately, knowing her sisters wouldn’t be calling her if it was not an emergency.

Kara: “No, y/n is sick. I just found her on the bathroom floor all clammy and she told me she vomited a lot. Also, she thinks it’s a stomach bug.” You can´t hear what Alex says on the phone, then Kara turns the phone on speaker “Ok hold on, yes. Ok ok now you’re on speaker now”

Alex: “Hi little one. I’m so sorry you got sick baby and I bet you feel awful but I need to ask you a few things ok?”

You nod, even though Alex cant see you, but you think if you can let her think it’s a stomach bug going around the office you’ll be off the hook and avoid the speech on getting food from street vendors.

Y/n: “Yeah ok…”- you feel to tire so yes, you can answer whatever she wants as longs she doesn’t ask you to move.

Alex: “Ok sweetie, Kara mentioned vomiting, what else are you feeling? Do you also have diarrhea? is she warm or cold Kara?

Y/N: “painful cramps, diarrhea definitely that was first and the puked my guts out. Honestly, I don’t think there’s anything left inside my intestines by this point. It was super gross Alex. I feel a little cold now. There’s a bug going on around the office and some of the guys got sick”- you say the last part a bit fast and avoid looking at Kara, then you groan in pain at another cramp.

Kara: “She is all clammy, her cheeks are flush, and she is shivering a little. Also, she is now avoiding direct eye contact…” – Kara raises an eyebrow at you, knowing there’s something you are avoiding.

Alex: – “y/n baby, was your stool a little bloody and watery? Or soft and muddy? , also Kara can you check her abdomen does it look a little swollen and prod very gently please “

y/n: “first one”- You can hear Alex give a long sigh

Kara: “definitely swollen and a bit tender”

Alex: “What did you eat yesterday either at lunch or dinner? And don’t even think about lying to me y/n. I will know if you are lying. That’s not just a stomach bug”

Kara is looking down at you worry on her face, “We ate steak and mashed potatoes with some veggies last night. Lena cooked. and I know I can’t get sick, but Lena was okay. So, what did you eat for lunch baby?”

Y/n: “a cheeseburger” –you mumble

Alex: “Where?”

y/n: “A new place near the building, a few of the guys I work with we got burgers yesterday”

Alex: “when you say ´new place, you mean a well stablished franchise or restaurant? Not a street vendor with doubtful hygiene and suspicious meat or produce, right? -  ughh busted, you thought.

y/n: “Street vendor” – you lamented

Kara: “ohh sweetie. You know better than that”- Kara kept her gentle touch but looking a bit disappointed in you.

Alex: ��Well baby, I hope the burger was so amazing and worth it, because what you have is food poisoning and most likely due to contaminated ground beef with E. coli. There is nothing to stop it or make it better faster. Your body will get rid of the bacteria during the following days. Simply needs to run its course.”

Y/N: “No cheeseburger in world is worth this pain or disgusting vomiting or explosive diarrhea. I feel like crap Lexie”- you play your Lexi card, so your big sister takes pity on you. You feel bad enough as it is, you don’t need to hear more disappointment from her.

Alex: “I know baby girl. Its quite uncomfortable and painful. You need rest and avoid over exerting, that will only make your stomach feel worse. Kara, I need you to make sure she drinks lots of fluids, she will keep vomiting and having constant bowel movements in the next couple of days and she can get dehydrated very quickly. Lots of water and Pedialyte . Let her stomach to settle first .  Avoid giving her any solid foods until she is no longer nauseous or vomiting as much. Avoid juices or other beverages with a lot of sugar or sweeteners that can make diarrhea worse. Let’s wait for 24 hours like this without any food and after that we can see if you can ease her back into eating soft and bland food. Call me if she gets worse or if the fever is too high.”

Y/N: “not even hungry anyways…”

Kara: “will do Alex, I’m taking off work for the week I’ll let Lena know. She is out of town as well, but I can handle goober just fine. right kiddo?”

You just try to crawl into Kara’s lap you starting to feel cold and so very tired. “Yeah, I’m cold. You warm”

Alex: “She will sleep a lot, wake her up and make her drink water or fluids Kara, its very important. Make sure her temperature doesn’t go above 102 F. if she get above that range just make her take a bath in lukewarm water or use a cold compress. Let her eat ice chips, NO dairy, no caffeine, no sugar, or fatty food. If she does eat those, she will end up throwing up everything. If temperature goes above 103 take her immediately to the ER. It shouldn’t but keep an eye on that. Seriously Kara call me anytime ok?”  

Kara: “Will do Alex. Thanks, and I’ll call you later once y/n is more comfortable and asleep”

Alex: “Ok, feel better sweetie, I’ll be back as soon as I can. Be good for Kara and try to relax and let your body get rid of everything at its own pace. Don’t rush anything. I love you sweetheart. Love you Kara, bye”

Y/N “Bye, love you Lexie”

Kara: “Bye Alex, love you too” – the phone calls gets disconnected. Kara looks down at you. “You think you are ready to move from the bathroom floor to the living room?”

y/n: “can you help me up to rinse my mouth? It tastes like crap ugh”

Kara: “of course. Up we go”- Kara gently stands up with you in her arms and helps you to your feet.

But you get dizzy and grab ahold of Kara’s arms for support

Kara: “hey hey I got you, easy there baby girl”

y/n: “everything its spinning and I don’t feel so g…” but before you can finish the sentence your eyes go wide and Kara see what’s about to happen and helps you to your knees in front of the toilet once again. Kara holds your hair away from your face with her other hand rubbing soothing circles down your spine while providing word of comfort.

You keep vomiting for a few minutes more “ughh I thought I had ridden of everything by now. This Is so disgusting” a few tears leak down your cheeks and Kara just helps you to your feet again and flushes the toilet.

Kara: “I know sweet girl, but Alex did say you will be experiencing vomiting and other stuff for a few days. So, let’s get you rinse your mouth and settle down in the couch so you can sleep this off, okay?”

You just nod and work on getting your teeth brushed and get rid of the nasty taste. Kara helps you to your room to change into your pajamas.

Kara: “Bed or couch?” -you just point down to your bed giving her your answer. “Okay okay” Kara lowers you on your bed and goes to close the curtains so you can rest more comfortably.

y/n: “Hold me?”- you pout pitifully

Kara: “of course baby girl. Let me just get your water and text Lena to let her know I won’t be into work for a few days and also text your boss you’re sick” – I’ll be right back.

y/n:” don’t want water please just hold me, I’m cold sissy”- more tears run down your cheeks, you just want your sister to hold you now.

Kara: “aww chucks, baby you feel real awful don’t ya? Ok here I’ll call later, and you need to drink water in an hour or two. I will wake you up. come here sweet bean”- Kara moves you so you are now lying basically on top of her, you hide your face into her neck and wrap your arms around her. You are leaching on her warmth shamelessly. Kara doesn’t mind at all begins to pat down your back softly like when you were little she needed to calm you down and put to to sleep.

Kara: “Aww my little koala is here. You’re so cuddly baby. I’m sorry you are feeling so poorly but I’ll be here with you all the time. You just close your eyes and go to sleep. You’ll feel better in no time, you’ll see”

y/n: “I’m never eating cheeseburgers again”- you give a yawn and began to drift off. Kara juts chuckles and starts to hum softly a lullaby song she uses since you were a little girl and where having trouble falling asleep or felt sick. You are out in less than 5 minutes.

Kara wait for you to be completely asleep to grab her cellphone she still has on her pocket. Texts Lena you are sick and will call her later, but you are okay just miserable for eating street food. And then sends a quick text to y/n boss, thank Rao she is close friends with y/n otherwise would be a pain to explain why she is texting instead of her employee.

Kara puts the cellphone down on the nightstand and holds y/n more to her chest and begins to run her hand up and down y/n spine and watches her sleep for a little while until herself starts to feel sleepy and decides to take a nap too.

Kara is awaken by your moving around and painful moaning. You curl into yourself as much as you can, trying to wave through the painful cramp in your tummy.

y/n: “It really hurts Kara, it hurts so bad”- you say through clenching teeth and tears sprung into your eyes once again. You feel miserable and in so much pain.  

Kara feels you are getting a bit hotter now and you are sweating too. “Okay little one, I think a bath can help you now, and you need to drink a little bit of water. Come here”

y/n: “No. pelease, no Kara. I just want the pain to stop and sleep again. I don’t want a bath” -you cry softly into her neck

Kara: “I’m sorry baby, but you feel too warm and you will feel better after the bath. I’ll stay with you the whole time.”

Kara picks you up from the bed and takes into the bathroom, she sits you down at the toilet seat while she runs a lukewarm bath for you.

Y/n: “Kara I don’t feel so good…” again you turn green and Kara helps you to sit infront the porcelain bowl once more.

You throw up again, but its mostly bile. Kara holds your hair out of your face while making comforting rubs on your lower back while you continue to be sick. your stomach its already empty from all the previous vomiting and you didn’t really eat anything for breakfast. You feel so weak after the effort it took to vomit once again. You are sweaty and pale and slump into Kara. Kara gently runs a hand down your spine and grabs a small towel to clean off the bile in your lips.

Kara: “sshh …baby come one. Its over now.  Here use this mouth wash to rinse and spit it in the toilet” -Kara then flushes the toilet and strips you off your clothes. She also strips down to her underwear and gets into the tub with you.  She helps you lean into her so she can wash your skin with a soft washcloth and pour the lukewarm water down your body to cool you down. After a while she notices your feel cooler to the touch. Washes your hair gently and lets you lean back onto her. You have always loved the skin to skin contact when feeling sick or unwell. Your sisters have done this many times over the years as well as you mom Eliza. You like feeling their warm skin and listen to their heartbeat. But Kara posses a special feature, she is warmer than any human. You feel her skin on you help you with the chills and you feel yourself drifting off to sleep again.

Kara notices you are almost asleep, and decides you are cool enough now and gently nudges you awake.

Kara: “sweet girl please don’t fall asleep quite yet. Let me dry you off a bit and you need to drink a little bit of water. Then you can sleep again promise”

You grunt in disapproval “Nuh uh … don’t wanna, I just want sleep”

Kara: “ I know sweetie but its not an option, come one”- Kara immediately stands and grabs ahold of you and takes one of the bath robes and uses one on her and then she uses a big fluffy towel to pat you down enough to remove the water excess but leaving your skin a bit damp to help keeping you cool.

She takes you back to your room and sets you on top of the bed and quickly grabs a set of lose shorts and tank top to avoid overheating you.  She then sits you with you back on a pillow resting against the headboard while she speeds to the kitchen to get you ice water.

Kara: “Okay sweetie small sips, just a few smalls sips and that’s it.”- she makes you drink a bit of water and leaves the glass on the nightstand again. You notice she is now wearing a pajamas too and in the nightstand there’s also a bowl with water and a few small towels and an empty plastic bow- “Just in case you feel sick and need to vomit again and avoid a trip to the bathroom”

Y/N:” thank you sissy”- you tear up and your chin trembles.

Kara: “No no don’t cry baby girl. Come here”- she gently lifts you up sits down and then lays you on her side you head resting on her collarbone. She left her soft button- up pajama top mostly open so you can lean into her and feel her skin near the collarbone and upper chest. You settle down and keep listening to her heartbeat.

Kara: “sshh sshh…sweetie just close your eyes and sleep. You’ll feel better soon just sleep now” – once again you feel her gentle touch on your back, down your arms and temple. And that soft voice humming the melody you associate with comfort. you move a little trying to find the perfect spot and just like that in less than 10 minutes you’re asleep.

[feverishbangtan]

This is something I worked on before. Next one’s going to be either Yoongi or Namjoon, still haven’t decided...

Sickie: Jungkook

Caretaker: Seokjin

Word count: 1290

TW: emeto

Seokjin slipped quietly into his bedroom so he wouldn’t wake the maknae, should he be asleep. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he was glad to see that Jungkook, indeed, seemed to be sleeping.

Earlier that day, the youngest woke up feeling very nauseous and generally unwell. It wasn’t until the afternoon that he started actually throwing up but once he did, it didn’t stop anymore. He spent a good four hours in the bathroom, vomiting every few minutes or so. Jungkook had a fever on and off all day, which left him achy and tired.

However, when he could finally catch a break and rest on the living room couch instead of in front of the toilet, he still wasn’t able to sleep.

Not even when Jimin had joined him, spooning the maknae and holding him. Not when Taehyung had offered him belly rubs that he declined because he feared that any kind of contact to his middle would set him off again. Not when Hoseok and Namjoon had turned on the TV to play his favorite movie. And not when Yoongi had set up his laptop in the living room, playing soft melodies he's been working on.

Seokjin brushed the back of his hand over Jungkook's forehead and cheeks, noting that he still felt warm. He glanced at his phone to see the time; Seokjin gave the youngest some medicine not too long ago so he couldn't give him more now.

Sighing, he slipped into the bed and tugged on the blanket in Jungkook's grip so he could cover himself. The maknae let go of it with a moan but quickly settled again as he curled up against Seokjin's chest. The oldest wrapped his arms around him and soon fell asleep as well.

—

Seokjin was awoken by distressed mumbling and small jerking movements a few hours later. In his tired, confused state it took him a moment to collect himself.

But then he remembered. Remembered that Jungkook was sick and he was sleeping next to him.

The maknae squirmed in his sleep, groans escaping his lips. Seokjin smoothed his long hair back, pushing it out of his face and simultaneously checking for a fever. He still felt warm, maybe even a little warmer than before he went to sleep.

Seokjin gently slipped his hand under Jungkook's shirt to give him tummy rubs, hoping it would help settle his stomach. He could feel the upset organ rumbling as Jungkook groaned in his sleep.

Even after a while, it was not getting better, in fact, it got worse and the oldest knew his attempts were futile. So, he moved his hand from Jungkook's tummy to his cheek, gently rubbing it to wake the boy.

"Jungkook-ah. Jungkookie, wake up," he whispered.

The maknae startled awake, a confused, hazy look in his eyes. It was clear that he wasn't quite there and didn't understand what was happening.

So, Seokjin tried to stay calm, even as all color drained from Jungkook's face and he swallowed audibly.

"Okay, okay, let's go to the bathroom."

Seokjin tried to maneuver the youngest out of the sheets but he was too confused and disoriented to cooperate with him.

It happened in a split second; Jungkook opened his mouth and then he was suddenly burping, the taste of stomach acid clinging to the back of his tongue. He heaved unproductively, nothing left in his stomach due to the lack of food throughout the day.

A particularly hard retch had him lurching forward. Bile and the few sips of water Jungkook had before going to sleep splashing onto the sheets.

Seokjin cringed at his soiled bedding but moved closer to the maknae, rubbing his back and muttering soothing words of comfort.

"It's okay. You're going to be okay."

Jungkook's hair was still in a messy half-up ponytail. Taehyung tied it up earlier that day when he first found the maknae puking into the toilet. It proved to be useful in keeping Jungkook’s growing hair clean.

The youngest kept on dry heaving for a while before his stomach finally gave him a break. He was breathing hard, frustrated tears running down his cheeks. Jungkook was exhausted and achy and still so confused. One second he was sleeping peacefully and the next he was puking and his stomach was cramping up painfully.

Seokjin carefully used the already dirtied blanket to dab the puke from Jungkook's chin before he removed it from the maknae's lap.

"Okay, let's go to the washroom," the oldest said quietly, "I think you should take a quick shower."

Poor Jungkook could only nod in agreement as he simply followed his hyung's instructions.

The two men slowly walked to the bathroom. Seokjin had an arm wrapped around Jungkook's waist for support.

Inside the bathroom, Seokjin helped Jungkook sit down on the toilet. Then he went to turn on the shower, making sure the water was a comfortable temperature for the sick maknae.

"Do you need help?" he asked, turning back to Jungkook, who looked quite uncomfortable and a little embarrassed if the blush on his cheeks was anything to go by.

The youngest shook his head no and Seokjin told him he'd get him a fresh set of pajamas while he's showering.

"Just yell if you need anything," he told him, "I'll be right outside."

Unsurprisingly, Jungkook didn't ask for help.

The only time he said anything at all was when he asked Seokjin to pass him the clothes but he quickly shut the door on him.

When it opened again, Jungkook was shirtless and only wearing the underwear and sweatpants Seokjin had brought him.

"How do you feel?" the older asked, mustering Jungkook as if he was trying to find the answer himself.

The maknae shrugged, "not as queasy anymore. But my tummy still hurts."

Seokjin hummed and gently took the younger's hand, leading him down the hallway.

"I'm sorry, hyung," Jungkook suddenly apologized quietly.

Seokjin stopped in his tracks and turned around to look at him. Jungkook didn’t look back at him, tired gaze focused on his feet instead.

"What for?" Seokjin asked and squeezed Jungkook's hand encouragingly.

"For throwing up in your bed. I'm sorry."

Jin chuckled and started walking again, pulling the maknae along with him.

"Don't worry about it," he told him genuinely.

Jungkook still felt bad about it, though. Admittedly, he was a little embarrassed about throwing up in bed. Seokjin's bed on top of it, not even his own. He felt childish for not being able to keep it down and make it to the bathroom before spilling his guts.

"But- your sheets, hyung," Jungkook whined, not being able to just brush it off like that, "I made them all dirty."

Seokjin could see the tears gathering in the maknae's eyes and was quick to soothe him.

"Don't worry about it, really, I can wash them. It's not a problem at all." Seokjin gathered the youngest into his arms and rubbed his back.

"Let's go sleep in your bed instead," he suggested and guided Jungkook further down the corridor to his own bedroom.

Jin tucked him into bed, making sure the maknae was comfortable before he left, assuring him that he would be back soon.

Seokjin filled the washing machine with his soiled bedsheets and opened the window inside his room, hoping that airing it out for the rest of the night would get rid of the stench.

He then made sure to grab a bowl, just in case Jungkook needed to throw up again and didn't make it to the bathroom.

By the time he got back, Jungkook was fast asleep. Carefully, Seokjin slipped in next to him once again, spooning the youngest and softly palming his tummy.

[a-zira-fell]

Prompt: “How could you?” & “What have I done” (same speaker for extra angst)

Read on AO3

(Major Character Death)

It was by all means a completely regular afternoon. It was cloudy, there had been rain in the morning and now, the air was clean and Aziraphale would have loved to sit outside, but it was just a bit too cold for that.

“Angel?” came from the other room.

Crowley’s voice was rough, as if it was difficult for him to speak. Aziraphale was alert immediately.

“Yes, dear?” he asked and put his book aside a bit more forceful than perhaps strictly necessary.

“Please.” It was barely more than exhausted sigh, and Aziraphale heard the pain in his voice. He took off so fast, he painfully knocked his shin against the coffee table to reach Crowley fast. But once at the door, he stopped in his tracks. Crowley was kneeling next to the bed, eyes wide and full of anguish as he looked up at Aziraphale, clutching his wrist.

“Crowley!” Tears formed in the angel’s eyes as he took shaky steps until he broke down next to Crowley. “Darling,” he choked out through tears and reached out to the stump of Crowley’s arm where his hand should have started.

Instead his forearm was lined with lines, glowing with heavenly light, as they came together at Crowley’s wrist, the light slowly eating away at his arm, lines spreading up his arm towards the rest of his body. It was a slow destruction, unstoppable and lethal and there was nothing Aziraphale could do as he looked upon the vial of holy water, that lay knocked over on his night stand.

“How could you?” He grabbed Crowley and shook his weakened form.

“I’m sorry,” Crowley rasped.

“It says – I wrote a sign! It says here, it says right here, ‘don’t touch’! Crowley! Why would you –“

“I didn’t mean to, angel.” The heat of the heavenly substance burning through Crowley began to become uncomfortable under Aziraphale’s hands, but he continued to hold him close, because if he let go, that would mean accepting this.

“There was some on the outside. I didn’t mean to – I would never.”

The lines were spreading up Crowley’s neck and Aziraphale was vaguely aware of the tears that were streaming down his cheeks. He had meant to throw it out days ago, bottled it up, so that there was no way Crowley could accidentally touch it; and now, a single drop of water at the lid had destroyed everything.

“I’m sorry,” Crowley repeated, his voice almost inaudible, as he clung to Aziraphale with his left hand. His strength was faltering as he brought it up to the angel’s face, tears of pain glistening in his own eyes.

“What have I done?” Aziraphale whispered.

“It’s okay,” Crowley insisted. When their lips met, it was with an urgency they had never had before. There was heartbreak and regret, there were tears and Crowley’s lips were scorching hot, but if Aziraphale could, he would –

Stop time.

They were alone. Crowley lay sunken together on the ground, wings spread wide, cramped with pain. Aziraphale slumped down next to him. The light had spread to the tips of Crowley’s wings and the agony in his eyes took over everything Aziraphale was thinking.

“Crowley.” He muttered, through clenched teeth. Stopping time in his emotional state was the most challenging thing he had ever had to do.

“You have to let me go, angel,” Crowley panted out, but he reached out his hand. The fingertips were half-burnt off and Aziraphale could barely stand the sight, but he let Crowley touch.

“I love you,” Crowley whispered and Aziraphale nearly lost his grip on time – with every second that should be passing, time pulled harder and more viciously at him but he wasn’t ready. He couldn’t let go now, not like this.

“I love you. I love you and we should have had all the time in the world, Crowley.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s my fault. You did nothing wrong. You were always right. Always. God! What have I done?” Aziraphale cried. Crowley’s touch, hot like hellfire against Aziraphale’s skin, made him look down; he spread his wings over them, shielding them from every outside influence, not that there was any. It was just the two of them; that was the only thing that mattered.

“I forgive you,” Crowley said. His voice was strong and when Aziraphale met his eyes, the pain was pushed away.

The realisation hit the angel harder than anything else – Crowley was trying to be strong for him. Even in his last moments, he was looking out for Aziraphale, making sure he knew how much he loved him. Aziraphale felt his grip slipping, felt time speeding up, everything was spinning, he was nauseous, trying to hold on, trying to save himself, trying to save time, trying to save Crowley. There had to be a way. There was no way. There was always a way. Not now.

When Crowley leaned up into a kiss, sealing his lips over Aziraphale’s one last time, the angel let go, wrapped his arms around Crowley and buried his hands in the soft feathers of his wings. The heat was growing and when Aziraphale pulled back, the light was glowing brighter than before, consuming the demon from within. The last thing, Aziraphale saw before he forced himself to press his eyes shut was the look on Crowley’s face, that showed utter devotion; all signs of pain gone.

I love you, echoed through the room, before everything went silent.

He sunk back against the bed, and everything that had kept him together before, evaporated, leaving him utterly lost. He felt empty; even the tears that had been flowing so freely, seemed to have died with Crowley. And in the emptiness born from despair and grief, Aziraphale put the single black feather that stuck between his fingers into the shirt pocket over his heart, reached out to pick up what lay discarded on the floor and put on Crowley’s glasses. The darkness was welcoming.

Nobody would ever get close enough to see the pain that was forever blindingly burnt into his eyes.

[sickfic-with-kiko]

So this might be a bit specific, but what about Bokuto sick at a trainings camp and Kuroo notices, helps his as best as he can before finally getting Akaashi (who maybe went to practice early?) who then proceeds to expertly take care of him? That scenario is just stuck in my head :)))))

During training camp, Bokuto was rarely seen without Akaashi, if ever. Kuroo knows how taken Bokuto is by his setter, and how obsessed Akaashi is when it comes to anything about Bokuto. They fit together perfectly, annoyingly so. 

So when Kuroo finds Akaashi there before Bokuto in the gymnasium, he can’t stop himself from asking what’s gotten into him. 

“Despite what you may think, Bokuto-san and I aren’t joined at the hip. He’s still writing his captain’s report,” is Akaashi’s answer. 

“Fair enough. Or you know, he could be grabbing a bite to eat. He’s always complaining about how hungry he is.” 

Akaashi shrugs. “Perhaps,” he leaves it at that, and starts to warm up. Kuroo doesn’t expect Akaashi to go out of his way to find Bokuto. They always end up bumping into each other, sooner or later. Besides, Bokuto screaming Akaashi’s name is hard to miss. 

Kuroo lets it go, and heads over to Lev. “Oi, don’t tell me you ran away from your receiving practice again! I’ll tell Yaku you’re slacking!” 

Lev yelps, attempting to scuttle away from him. He’s grabbed by his t-shirt, and faceplants directly into the ground. “Geh, Kuroo-san! Don’t! I’ll die!” 

“Tough shit.” 

***

Something is shifting in Bokuto’s head. 

Or more accurately, his brain is sliding to and fro, like a cruise ship on a rough sea. He can’t focus on his writing. He’s dizzy and exhausted, even before evening practice. Something is wrong with him, but he can’t pinpoint it. 

“Hey, Bokuto? How long are you planning to take with that?” 

Kuroo enters the room, but Bokuto only presses his head into the desk. “I still need a few more lines…” he groans, rubbing his forehead. The back of his eyes start to throb. 

“Well, come on. Akaashi’s waiting for you. His tosses aren’t going to spike themselves.” Kuroo laughs, but Bokuto isn’t sure if he’s up for spiking today. If he’s asked why, he won’t know how to answer, but something feels off. 

Bokuto lets out a groan. “I’ll be there in a second…” 

Without warning, Kuroo presses his palm against Bokuto’s neck. “Hey, you’re warmer than usual. You feeling okay?” The coldness feels amazing on Bokuto’s skin, and he lets out a groan of pleasure. 

“I’m just sleepy. Be there in a moment…” Bokuto curls up, and Kuroo pries him away from the desk. He squeezes his eyes shut as his head pounds from behind his eyes. His stomach starts to churn. 

Kuroo shakes his head, touching Bokuto’s cheek and neck with a comfortably cold hand. “You’re pretty feverish. Don’t practice for the rest of today, and get some sleep.” 

Instead of protesting, Bokuto nods in agreement. “Yeah. I think I’ll just sleep… I’m really tired.” He rubs at his stomach, hoping to calm it down. 

“I’ll get you some water. Just stay there.” 

Bokuto doesn’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon. Truthfully, even water doesn’t feel appealing to him. His stomach lets out an unhappy gurgle, and he wraps his arms around the unhappy organ gently. 

His clothes feel wet against his skin, and he realises it’s his sweat. His mouth feels too full, and some spit drips down his chin. He quickly wipes it off before Kuroo comes back. 

Bokuto wishes he’d gone easy on the fried chicken pieces during dinner. His endless appetite caused him to eat as much as his stomach would possibly allow. Now, all of the food sits heavily in his stomach, and just the thought of a grain of rice makes him want to gag. 

“Hey, Bokuto? I got some water for you.” Kuroo comes back with a plastic cup in his hand, and Bokuto lifts his head slightly. “You okay? Does it hurt anywhere?” 

“My head, a little. And my stomach.” Bokuto admits truthfully, taking the cup from Kuroo. He doesn’t want anything near his mouth, but some water in his system could perhaps stop his body from feeling so overheated. 

Kuroo wraps an arm around him, as he takes a sip of water. “Wow, your fever seems high. Sleep properly, okay?” 

Bokuto swallows the water little by little, and shivers as a chill hits his spine. He trembles uncontrollably, as his stomach growls under his hand. Kuroo rubs his back, small circles comforting him as best as he can. 

“Really don’t feel good,” Bokuto groans, unable to sit upright by himself. A small hiccup escapes his lips, and he feels the water he just drank move up to the back of his throat. 

“Does your stomach feel any better?” Kuroo asks worriedly. “Maybe I should get Akaashi. It’ll be better with two of us instead of just me.” 

Bokuto nods. Akaashi is a good caretaker, and relaxing to be around. He always trusts him to make him feel better, in any situation. 

But his stomach clenches, reminding him that he’s still very sick. “Kuroo…” he calls out in a whine, covering his mouth with his palm. “Think I’m going to puke.” 

Kuroo’s eyes widen. “Shit, shit, shit. Just wait a moment, I’ll get something!” He darts off out of the room, and Bokuto can only manage a nod. He presses his hands to his mouth desperately. He needs to hold it in until Kuroo comes back. 

But his stomach aches, and nothing’s there to calm it. Panic settles in his eyes as he feels a thick warmth rise in his throat. His breathing quickens, and chokes him as he attempts to hold it down. The dizziness is so bad that he can’t see what’s going on. 

Kuroo isn’t back yet, but Bokuto’s reached his limit. The room flashes between boiling hot and agonizingly cold, and he shudders from the sudden change in temperature. 

He needs to get somewhere where he can control the amount of damage he’ll do. But how he’ll do that is a question he doesn’t know how to answer. And in less than thirty seconds, he’s positive that he’ll lose it. 

Bokuto shifts his position so that he’s sitting on the floor, hands pressed firmly against his mouth. A wet belch squeezes out of his chest, and he tastes bitter air in his mouth. He can feel a gag forming behind his throat, his stomach squeezing until his cheeks swell. 

No, he doesn’t have any idea what to do yet. But his body won’t listen to him. He vomits forcefully, and he isn’t able to contain all of it. His throat fights to swallow it back down, but his mouth is forced open, and warm sick splatters into his palm. 

Bokuto’s mouth is filled with more vomit, as soon as the first wave is over. He fights to keep it in his mouth as he retches, chest squeezing painfully with the force. The illusion of control he thought he had disappears as quickly as it appears. A wet burp forces the puke out of his mouth, through his fingers and onto the floor. 

“Oh my god. Bokuto, are you okay?!” Kuroo comes back with a bucket, only to find Bokuto breathing heavily, sitting in his own vomit. Bokuto’s still swallowing desperately, gulping painfully as he fights the inevitable. 

As soon as Kuroo sets down the bucket, Bokuto fumbles for it and vomits harshly. His throat hurts from the retch he’s held down for so long, and he’s barely able to suck in a breath before he’s heaving up a slurry of undigested food into the bucket. 

“Here, easy… It’s all right. I’ve got ya.” Kuroo holds the bucket in place as Bokuto’s fingers are soaked and slippery, and pats his back with his other hand. A thick, slimy stream pours from his mouth, dripping onto his chin. 

Bokuto’s eyes are bloodshot from the heaving, and a dry gag pushes out of him. He’s stopped spewing all over the place for now, but there’s a mess around him from when he didn’t have the bucket. 

Kuroo holds him as he trembles, stroking his hair. “You feeling any better?” He takes the bucket, half-filled with vomit. Bokuto still feels nauseous, but the throwing up has stopped for now.

“Not really…” Bokuto whispers, and Kuroo grabs a box of tissues, wiping the refuse off Bokuto’s face and hands. He also needs a change of clothes, too. Sweat and vomit sticks his t-shirt to his skin. 

“How did it get on your forehead? ...Here, change into your spare clothes. I’ll go and get Akaashi.” Kuroo locates Bokuto’s enamelled bag and pulls out a plain blue t-shirt and shorts. “Poor thing, you really are sick.” 

Bokuto nods, pulling his soiled clothes off himself and replacing them with fresh ones. Extra practice is out of the question. He can barely lift his arm for a spike, and his stomach is cramping horribly from the contractions. 

To add insult to injury, he’s shivering even worse, without anything to keep him warm. He knows his fever’s gotten higher. His eyes water, and heat radiates off his skin. 

***

“Hey, Akaashi!” 

Kuroo’s voice is panicked, and Akaashi immediately tenses. He knows it has to be about Bokuto. Alarm fills him. 

“Did something happen? Is he all right?” 

Kuroo doesn’t even question how Akaashi knows it’s about Bokuto, already. “He has a high fever and he just threw up everywhere.” Akaashi’s eyes widen. “We should probably get a teacher after we clean him up, in case he gets worse.” 

Akaashi nods, and follows Kuroo to the room where Bokuto is. A sharp, sour smell hits him as he enters, and a puddle of vomit sits beside Bokuto. As soon as Bokuto catches sight of him, his eyes water immediately. 

“Akaashi, I… I didn’t feel good, and…” Bokuto cuts himself off with a sob, the fever throwing his emotions out of control. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t… Akaashi, I’m sorry!” 

Akaashi lets his gaze meet Bokuto’s, nodding. “I understand. I’m here now, Bokuto-san. I know you’re feeling unwell, and I want to make you comfortable.” He wraps his arm around Bokuto’s too-warm body, patting his shoulder in a comforting rhythm. “Can you tell me how you’re feeling? Where does it hurt the most?” 

It breaks Akaashi’s heart to have to question Bokuto so mercilessly, just minutes after he’s thrown up. Bokuto whines, exhaling a hot breath into Akaashi. “My stomach hurts, and I feel really cold and dizzy…” 

“Mmhm. We’ll get you some blankets, how does that sound?” Akaashi coaxes answers out of Bokuto successfully, while Kuroo watches in awe. “Kuroo-san, could you call one of the teachers?” 

Kuroo scampers off, relieved to be of help. Akaashi hands Bokuto some water, urging him to drink in small sips. “Don’t push yourself if you’re nauseous.” He tells Bokuto firmly, stroking his hair with all the wax sweated out. 

“Okay,” Bokuto mumbles, taking only a few mouthfuls of water enough to wash the bitterness out of his mouth. “My stomach still hurts…” 

Akaashi places his palm onto Bokuto’s stomach, as it makes unhappy gurgles under his touch. He doesn’t put much pressure on Bokuto’s stomach, and rubs circles gently. Bokuto moans weakly, but doesn’t protest or try to move away. It’s proof that it’s working. 

“Bokuto, we’re going to move you to a bedroom. Akaashi will stay with you, if you need him.” 

Their coach comes in, and assists Akaashi in lifting Bokuto up. Bokuto lets out a cry of pain as he’s hauled up, but relaxes when Akaashi pats his back reassuringly. “You can go to sleep. I know you’re tired from being sick.” 

Bokuto flops in his arms, fever wearing him out faster than any penalty activities. “But ‘m cold,” he whines, and Akaashi can feel him shiver violently. He feels a twinge of sympathy in his chest. 

Akaashi sets Bokuto down on a futon, pulling the covers up and wrapping a blanket around him. His coach pops a thermometer under his tongue, and Akaashi holds him upright so he won’t collapse into the pillow. 

“He’s running a fever of thirty-nine degrees. If it gets any higher, we’ll have to get him to a hospital.” 

Akaashi nods, although it seems highly unlikely. “It’s a case of stomach flu, I’m pretty sure. And I’ve read that the best cure for that is to get plenty of rest and get rid of whatever bad thing there is.” 

In other words, there isn’t much Akaashi can do to alleviate Bokuto’s pain. He can only watch Bokuto as he shivers and writhes, delirious from the fever. And only for a limited time, too. He still has his duties as the vice captain. 

“Akaashi, it hurts.” Bokuto sobs, panting in harsh breaths. “My stomach hurts.” ��

Akaashi places his arms around Bokuto’s middle, so that Bokuto’s head presses to his chest. “I’m here for you.” he rubs at Bokuto’s stomach, ignoring how helpless he feels in front of him. “Tell me if the pain gets worse, okay? It’s not your appendix, is it?” 

Bokuto shakes his head. “No, it’s not that bad. Just… hurts.” 

Akaashi lets him back down onto the pillow, placing a wet towel on his forehead. “I’m going to wipe your face. It’ll make you feel more comfortable.” He wipes the tear streaks and sweat off Bokuto’s skin, and Bokuto relaxes when the coldness comes into contact with him. 

“Go to sleep. You’ll feel a lot better after you wake up.” Akaashi can only hope for it to be true. He’s drawn the curtains and turned off the lights, so that Bokuto’s pained features are barely visible. 

Bokuto lets out a hiccup, and Akaashi peers into him. “Everything all right?” He knows how Bokuto will try to minimize his distress all the time, and he’s grateful for Kuroo, who called him over for help. 

***

When Akaashi notices Bokuto emitting high-pitched, wet burps, it’s already too late. 

Bokuto doesn’t seem to realise that he’s seconds away from throwing up again- he’d taken Akaashi’s advice to heart and gone to sleep, the poor thing. Akaashi grabs the bucket from beside the futon, but a splash of liquid pushes past Bokuto’s lips, and Bokuto can only turn his head sideways to prevent staining his clothes. 

“Bokuto-san?” 

Akaashi turns on the light swiftly, a decision he regrets immediately. It triggers another round of vomiting, and Akaashi barely manages to get it contained in the bucket. Bokuto is still out of it too, not realising what’s going on with himself. 

Bokuto’s eyes abruptly snap open in a panic. He opens his mouth as if to ask what’s going on, but a wave of nausea washes over him, and a thick stream of vomit spurts out of him. The bucket under his chin catches it all, as Akaashi rubs circles on his tremoring back. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t cry.” Akaashi whispers, sympathy twisting in his gut at the sight of Bokuto so vulnerable. “Just get it all up. I know it sucks, but you’ll feel a lot better, alright?” 

Bokuto doesn’t answer him. He only whimpers pitifully, tears dripping out of his eyes without stopping. “I- Akaashi-” he hiccups, as Akaashi dabs at his face with a wet cloth. He coughs, and it scrapes his throat. Akaashi shushes him, urging him not to talk too much. 

“It’s going to get better. It’s all right.” Akaashi wishes that were true. Bokuto is sweating buckets, but is in no condition to take a bath. 

*** 

Bokuto doesn’t see Akaashi, when he wakes up. He’s most likely gone to practice. Like he would have been, if he weren’t so sick. His whole middle hurts from the amount of throwing up he’s done, and his clothes are sweaty from the fever. 

“Bokuto? You awake?” 

Kuroo pops into his room, holding a cup of water. Bokuto’s eyes start tearing up, as if Kuroo is some kind of deity. “Whoa, what’s wrong? Here, I got you some water. Don’t cry.” 

“Thank you, Kuroo.” Bokuto grabs the cup through tears, gulping down the water at an alarming speed. 

Kuroo blinks. “Hey, don’t drink it all in one go! Your stomach’ll get a shock!” 

Bokuto chuckles, and Kuroo’s ears go red. “Ha, you sound like my mom or something.” He notices how Kuroo’s smile softens. 

"Well, are you feeling better? How high's your temperature?" Kuroo pats Bokuto's head, laying his palm onto his sweaty brow. 

Bokuto sticks his lip out. "Still thirty-eight degrees. Coach said I can't go to practice until it's lower." 

Kuroo rolls his eyes. “Obviously. You need good bedrest. And eat something, if you feel like it.” He hands Bokuto some jelly in a packet, with a mouthpiece for sucking it out. 

“Thanks!” Bokuto places the jelly beside him, within reach. “I’ll have it when I’m hungry.” 

“Be sure to hydrate yourself. I’m glad you seem less sick.” 

***

Bokuto sips on the jelly drink that Kuroo gave to him. It tastes faintly of grapes, and requires little effort with chewing and swallowing. It feels cool and good against his throat. 

He finishes the whole packet within a few minutes. Aside from the occasional sip of water, it’s the only thing that’s been put into his system. His stomach feels full, but it’s nothing compared to the nausea he’s been through all night. 

His coach comes in with a heating pad, which Bokuto accepts gratefully. The violent shivers have stopped now, but his stomach is still sore from the heaving. 

Bokuto presses the heating pad to his midsection, his clothes absorbing all the warmth he can get. Which reminds him, he needs to change his clothes. He’s soaking with sweat, and the cooled-down water droplets are cold against his skin. He sneezes, and takes off his t-shirt. 

“Bokuto, I’ll leave your bag here. Get changed into whatever’s comfortable.” The coach says, and leaves to give Bokuto some privacy. 

Fishing out a new t-shirt and shorts, Bokuto gets changed and folds his damp clothes as best as he can. He feels much more refreshed, after feeding and clothing himself properly. 

Now that he’s feeling slightly better, he’s bored. He can’t even hear his teammates practicing from his room. He wants to hit a spike, instead of laying there with nothing to do. 

There isn’t much for him to do, and he can’t be bothered to get his phone from the common room. He lays back down and attempts to sleep, squeezing his eyes shut and groaning. 

*** 

Bokuto stirs in his sleep, and wakes up. It’s still bright out, so he couldn’t have slept for long. He wonders why he’s woken up so suddenly, until a blinding headache hits him with the force of an uncontrollable truck. 

His stomach shifts, and the room spins and tips around him. He feels motion sick from just laying there. His forehead is too hot, but his body is too cold. He reaches for the thermometer, but realises that he has no idea where it is.

Why does he feel worse? Sleeping is meant to make him feel better. His mouth is heavy with fluid gathering inside, and he’s become too familiar with the queasy feeling in his chest. 

This time, Bokuto lifts himself off the futon, wiping at his neck damp with sweat. A burp rips out of him, and he stands up shakily, using the wall as support. 

Nobody is there to help him out, this time. He’s on his own, and his stomach gurgles ominously. Sweat rolls down his chin as he crawls out of the room, eyes looking around for the nearest bathroom. 

Miraculously, the bathroom is right beside his room, only separated by a few doors. Nobody spots him as he clutches his stomach and slithers into the bathroom. He tastes a sickly sweetness in his mouth, and pushes open the stall door hurriedly. 

Nausea washes over Bokuto like a wave pool, and abates just as quickly as it arrives. He drops to his knees, leaning one hand on the wall. A drop of saliva dribbles out of his mouth, dropping into the toilet bowl. 

A groan escapes his lips. His stomach cramps are even worse. He breathes in deeply, but a heave catches in his throat, choking him. He remembers what Akaashi would tell him, when he was anxious. Breathe in, count three, hold for four, out for five. 

Bokuto shakily takes in a breath, but a wet gag seizes him as he holds it. He clenches his teeth and keeps his mouth shut. He can feel his face go red. He needs to do it the way Akaashi taught him, or else he’ll feel worse. 

A shudder jars him, and he pitches forward. Warm liquid hits the back of his throat, and this time, it’s less painful and disgusting. Of course, he’s only eaten jelly and water for the past few hours. 

There’s no use fighting it. A watery retch tears out of him, and a stream of vomit splatters into the toilet bowl. His cheeks swell until he opens his mouth to throw up, again. His stomach clenches onto nothing, and his entire upper stomach feels like it’s been squeezed like a sponge. 

Bokuto starts crying. He can’t help it. The pain is stabbing at his stomach, ripping him mercilessly. He coughs into the bowl as he heaves, refuse splattering beneath his face. 

He’s sobbing so hard, he doesn’t notice that someone’s come into his stall. He’d left it unlocked, his emergency taking priority. Someone is kneading the tension out of his shoulders, shushing him gently. 

“Shh, you’re okay. Try to breathe slowly.” Akaashi rubs his back in slow strokes, breathing in time with them. “Oh, sweetheart. I know, it sucks being sick. And just as I thought you were getting better.”

Bokuto tries to stop his sobbing, and honest to god, he does- but Akaashi’s words only have him coughing and crying harder. He only ever uses affectionate names and that sweet tone when Bokuto’s feeling really vulnerable.

“It- it’s not fair,” he cries out, as Akaashi caresses his face with soft wipes, wherever he’d gotten them from. “It hurts, I’m not feeling any better, I felt so much worse after waking up…”

“Mmhm,” Akaashi listens to him as he speaks in garbled words, nodding thoughtfully as he pats his back slowly. “You’re not feeling better after sleeping, are you? That sounds horrible. Would it make you feel better if I stayed in the same room as you?”

Bokuto nods so much that he almost collapses from dizziness, and he would have, if Akaashi weren’t there to catch his bobbing head. “It’s boring, and lonely. And I wasted the jelly that Kuroo gave me…”

“Not your fault,” Akaashi says firmly. “You’re shaking. We have to get you back in bed. I think your fever’s gone up.” He lifts Bokuto into a standing position, as he lets out a hot exhale of air. 

***

Akaashi pats Bokuto’s shoulder as he dry heaves into the trash can beside his pillow. He’s sure there’s nothing in his abused stomach anymore. Only clear spit drips from his mouth, and a whimper of pain after each gag. 

And it’s scary, because Bokuto doesn’t get sick. When he does, he bounces back from it in a day or two. Akaashi’s never won against him in any sort of physical competition, aside from eating. 

But Bokuto is weak and shivering, in front of him. “Do you think you can manage some water?” Akaashi asks, and Bokuto screws his eyes shut and holds back a retch. “I’m guessing that’s a no, then.”

Akaashi checks the thermometer, and Bokuto’s fever is climbing. “Is your stomach ache any better?” Bokuto shakes his head no, groaning and gripping his middle. “Anything you want me to get for you?”

“No.” Bokuto shakes his head firmly. “Don’t want anything. Just stay with me, please…” 

Akaashi can’t say no to his watery eyes. “I’m right here, Bokuto-san. Just promise me you’ll try and get a few sips of water in you, all right?” Bokuto frowns, shaking his head faster. “We can’t have you dehydrated.” 

“It’s just gonna come back up.” Bokuto refuses. “I don’t want to be sick again.”

Akaashi takes out a bottle of rehydration solution, uncapping it and pressing it to Bokuto’s lips. “A small amount is enough. It’s better to have something to throw up, even if it’s water.” He gently coaxes him to take a gulp, and Bokuto hesitantly obliges. 

Bokuto’s throat rises and falls as he takes sips from the bottle. Akaashi rubs his scalp with the pads of his fingers, murmuring praises to him for trying his best. Bokuto takes the bottle from Akaashi’s hands, tipping it further to drink more. 

Half the bottle is gone, by the time Bokuto is done. “Are you all right, drinking that much?” Akaashi knows he’s the one who pushed him to drink, but he didn’t expect Bokuto to have so much in one go. 

“My stomach felt empty. Thought it might help.” Bokuto hiccups, and lays back down onto the pillow. Akaashi rubs at his stomach gently, hoping that he’ll be spared from any more pain and sickness. 

Akaashi stares at him with a watchful eye. “Are you feeling any pain? Anything uncomfortable?” 

Bokuto grimaces as a cramp grips his stomach, but shakes his head. “I’ll deal with it…” 

Even though he says that, the cuff of his t-shirt is already drenched with sweat. Akaashi can tell he’s trying to push through a ton of pain and discomfort already. He can only pray it doesn’t get any worse.

Bokuto’s throat closes up as he jerks, and Akaashi has a trash can ready at his hands. Bokuto waves his hands at Akaashi’s face, shaking his head. He’s resisting it, as much as he can. 

“Hey, don’t fight it.” Akaashi whispers, running his fingers through Bokuto’s hair. “I’m sorry I pushed you to drink.” He feels immense guilt, now that Bokuto’s desperately trying to keep the liquid down. He should have waited a little more before giving him anything.

Bokuto leans over the trash can, both hands pressed firmly onto his mouth. His eyes tell Akaashi everything. I don’t want to, please, don’t let it happen to me. But as much as he wants to change places with him, Akaashi can only watch. 

Akaashi knows when Bokuto’s hit by a wave of pain. The way his eyes water and his spine curves into a c-shape. Akaashi alternates between rubbing circles in his back and stroking his hair, as Bokuto whines into his palm. 

“I feel really bad, ‘kaashi. It hurts…” Bokuto rasps out, throat scraped from stomach acid. “I can’t deal with this anymore, I don’t like it.” His unwaxed hair flops into his face, as Akaashi rubs his drenched back. Akaashi’s palm burns as he touches him, every shiver vibrating into his skin. 

“Breathe in, nice and deep. I’m right here, all right?” Akaashi guides him through it, but Bokuto clamps his mouth shut before he can fully inhale. “You have to breathe, okay?” 

Bokuto keeps swallowing convulsively, and refuses to take proper breaths. For a few minutes, Akaashi is stuck on what to do. He could blame himself for possibly making Bokuto feel worse, but now isn’t the time to pity himself. 

“Hey, it’s all right. Just let it happen. Don’t try to hold it down, it’ll hurt more.” 

Akaashi’s words are met with a defiant shake of the head. Bokuto comes close to heaving a number of times, but shuts his mouth and holds his breath every time. He doesn’t dare open his mouth to let out an exhale, for fear that he’ll throw up.

All of a sudden, a groan turns into a wet sound at the back of his throat. 

Something splatters weakly into the trash can, and tears start to drip into it. “Here we go. It’s okay, it’s okay.” Akaashi murmurs sweet words under his breath as Bokuto hacks painfully. “You don’t need to panic. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

But as Bokuto coughs up what looks like slightly green-tinted water, his breath starts to quicken, and he’s not taking in enough air before a retch pushes it all out. “Akaashi,” he whimpers, swallowing the urge to vomit. “I don’t want-” 

Bokuto’s stomach clenches, but he holds back the inevitable, shoulders shaking. Something red drips into the trash can, and Akaashi stares at Bokuto’s face, now stained with blood. 

“Bokuto-san?! Are you all right?” 

As soon as Akaashi shows the first sign of being panicked, Bokuto’s eyes widen as he starts to hyperventilate and puke at the same time. “What- what’s happening? Why is there blood in the-” 

Akaashi needs a few seconds before he can collect himself, but when he does, he realises that it’s not as serious as he initially thought. 

The blood is dripping from Bokuto’s nose, running down his face. The blood vessels 

in his nose must have ruptured, from the force of the gagging and Bokuto’s weak attempts to subdue it. 

And, at the worst possible time, Kuroo steps into the room. 

“Oh my god, Akaashi! Is he- did he just puke blood?!” Kuroo is over at Bokuto’s side in an instant, grabbing tissues to wipe the blood off Bokuto’s face. “We have to call someone! An ambulance!”

“Calm down, Kuroo-san!” Akaashi raises his voice, noticing Bokuto’s breathing hitch. “It’s a nosebleed. Bokuto-san is all right.” 

But it’s already too late. More and more dark red runs freely from Bokuto’s nose, as he sobs and coughs harder. “Bokuto, deep breaths, yeah? Don’t inhale so much. Get it out first, and then take a breath.”

Akaashi rubs at Bokuto’s back as he spits red-tinted froth into the trash can, as Kuroo wipes the blood off Bokuto’s face. “I know that was scary. It was really sudden, and none of us knew it would happen. You’re all right.” Akaashi holds Bokuto’s hand, and Bokuto grips him tightly.

Both Akaashi and Kuroo help Bokuto through his panic-induced anxiety attack, rubbing at his knuckles and whispering to him in their comforting, low tones. It takes a while before Bokuto’s breathing finally calms down, and he’s no longer breathing erratically. 

“Bokuto, you have to get some rest now.” Kuroo is firm, but his hands are gentle as he tucks Bokuto into the covers. “How’s your temperature doing?” 

The thermometer reads thirty-eight degrees, still in sick-person territory. “We’re going to have to get you home, if you’re not feeling any better after tonight.” 

Bokuto lets out a sound, like he’s been kicked in the gut. “Please, please don’t send me home! Please!” His cries are pitiful, and Akaashi’s heart feels like it’s being beaten to a pulp. 

“We don’t want to, either.” Akaashi slips into the futon with him, ignoring Kuroo screaming that he’ll get sick too. “Bokuto-san, rest up. I’ll be there for you when you wake up.” 

Bokuto closes his eyes, after hesitating for a moment. “Okay… I just want to feel better.” 

“You’re a good kid.” Akaashi pats his shoulder, as Bokuto curls up beside him. His body heat pressed next to him, like a large hot water bottle. “Go to sleep.”

***

Bokuto doesn’t feel like throwing up, when he wakes up again. His stomach cramps up, but after a few moments of squeezing his eyes shut and breathing deeply, the wave of pain decreases considerably. 

“Bokuto-san?” Akaashi’s eyes open too, and he murmurs in his drowsy voice, “are you feeling any better?” 

“My stomach feels sore, but I feel a lot better now.” 

Akaashi presses his palm against Bokuto’s skin, checking for any sign of fever. “You’re still resting today. If you don’t throw up for the whole day and your temperature is back to normal, you can come to the gym tomorrow.” 

Bokuto whines, but doesn’t protest. He’s not in any condition to be playing right now. His stomach is still gurgling unhappily, dull pain radiating around his middle. “Okay. Is Kuroo all right?” 

“Never been better.” Kuroo, who nobody knows how long he’s been there for, enters the room. “Don’t push yourself too hard, Bokuto. Your team was really worried, you know.” 

Bokuto can picture everyone on his team practicing without him, and he feels frustration. He wants to get up on his feet and run to them. But Akaashi and Kuroo have taken care of him so much, he doesn’t want to waste their efforts. 

“Okay. I’ll make sure to rest for today.” He promises, and Kuroo nods at him. 

“Good. We have to go now, but someone’ll be there in case you need anything. And make sure to drink plenty of water. You need to make up the amount of fluids you lost.” 

Akaashi runs his hand across Bokuto’s hair one last time, before getting up to join Fukurodani’s practice. “I’m really relieved you seem to be better, Bokuto-san.” He smiles, wrapping him into a small hug. 

“Thanks, guys! You’re both awesome!” 

Bokuto finds it hard to wait until he’s completely better. He loves practicing with Akaashi, and while he’s relished every second Akaashi’s spent caring for him, he’d rather have the attention on him when he’s not sick. But he’s sure Akaashi will give it to him. After all, Akaashi is smitten, and they both know it.

[aweirdkindofyellow]

Here I Am, There You Are Pt. 15

Jack Barakat x OC ‘Rachel has been best friends with Alex, Jack, Rian, and Zack since high school. What happens when one of them gets married?’

Part 15

Jack and I had Alex and Lisa over for a week. Since they didn’t have a house out in LA anymore, they always needed to find places to stay when they did need to be on the West Coast. Since Alex and Jack were working on some band stuff and Lisa was organising the last bits of a wedding at the same time, we had offered to help them out by giving them a place to stay. Afterall, after months of not seeing each other, it was nice to actually have friends around again.

While making dinner for everybody, the fact that I was 36 weeks pregnant hit me pretty hard. I was standing there on my painful feet, cutting up some vegetables when my body decided to warn me that I shouldn’t push myself and take enough time to rest. It was nearing the end of their trip, and I wanted to give them one last impressive meal, but my back said no. Luckily, Alex was more than happy to give me a hand. He let me direct him around, doing most of the work while Lisa and Jack were gulping down some rosé.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t really enjoy the food we had cooked together. My back was in pain and I was feeling quite nauseous. It wasn’t alarming, though. It happened more often; my lower back would decide it had been carrying around the extra weight for more than long enough, then everything would just feel very uncomfortable, and then I’d also start feeling a little sick. Usually, it didn’t end up in my throwing up, but it definitely wasn’t the most pleasant of feelings.

I got a few bites in, but in the end I was mainly just picking at my food. The baby usually loved a combination of vegetable and tomato sauce, but it wasn’t happening that day. Luckily, I wasn’t really hungry anyway. Lisa and I had gotten a pretty big lunch earlier, so I had had more than enough to eat already. Since everybody already knew I wasn’t feeling great, and because I had made the food myself, nobody was particularly worried. It happened, pregnancy wasn’t just happiness and people telling you you looked like you were glowing.

But my back really was hurting, and I could just feel myself going into an unsafe territory. The territory in which I’d no longer be fun to be around. Before I got too annoyed at jokes and laughter, and any other sound made, I knew I had to distance myself.

“I think I’m going to go to bed,” I announced after putting my fork down. I knew it was early, it was only past dinner time. But it sounded like the only bearable thing right now.

“Everything alright?” Jack checked up on me, taking in just how uncomfortable I looked.

I nodded and pushed my chair back. “Yeah. I just need to lie down and I’m pretty tired. Why not combine both?”

“Call if you need anything, okay?”

I got up and pressed a kiss to the top of his head to show that I definitely wouldn’t think twice to call him if I needed him. He really was the best husband right now, he had been the entire time really. He’d help to tie my shoes when I was really struggling, he’d bring me snacks when I was hungry, and he’d help me get as comfortable as possible, even if that meant rubbing my back. Of course, we had our arguments, but he was the most supportive person, always there to help me out.

I said goodnight to everybody and retreated upstairs to our bedroom. Olive decided to join me, watching me as I got ready and climbing onto the bed when I got under the blankets. It was a bit strange since she’d usually stay down where the food was being shared, but she probably sensed that I wasn’t feeling great. She kept a watchful eye on me as she curled up right next to me.

The two of us just laid there together. Petting her long fur was quite comforting, but it wasn’t enough for my body to decide that it was time to relax and no longer be in pain. If anything, the queasy feeling in my stomach was getting worse. I just figured our cheese puff had shifted a little and was squishing all my insides since I had to get up to pee quite a few times as well.

When Jack finally joined me hours later, I was still awake, scrolling through my phone. The entire time I was switching between social media platforms and even tried watching some Netflix, although the shows didn’t exactly keep my attention.

“You’re still awake?” Jack seemed surprised as he closed our bedroom door and pulled off his shirt.

“No, I’m just sleepwalking,” I joked back and reached around to put my phone on my nightstand.

He kicked off his jeans as well and started towards the bathroom. “Are you feeling a bit better, though?”

I hummed back and shrugged.

“No?” He looked back as he turned on the bathroom light.

I pouted at him. “My tummy hurts.”

He gave me a worried look. “Is cheese puff okay?”

I nodded and scratched Olive’s head, snuggling further into my pillow. “He’s good, still kicking. I just feel like I might shit myself at any moment.”

He frowned and finally went to our sink. “Gross.”

I watched as he grabbed his toothbrush and squeezed some toothpaste on it. “Well, I’m not going to. I would have done it long ago if that were the case.”

“If it happens, I’m not cleaning it up,” he mumbled through the foaming toothpaste in his mouth.

“You better get used to cleaning shit soon.”

He scrunched up his nose in disgust and faced the sink again. After scrubbing his teeth for a few more seconds, he turned on the tap, spit out the toothpaste and washed out his mouth. Once his toothbrush was back in its place, he turned off the bathroom light and made his way over to the bed in just his boxers.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, looking down at me as I cuddled underneath the blankets. My stomach was starting to hurt a little more. “You’re not in labour, are you?”

I gave him the look. The one you give when you can’t believe what the other person is saying; the one where what they’re saying sounds incredibly absurd. It required a slow blink and a hint of being fed up.

“Of course not,” I urged as he joined me in bed. “It’s way too early for that. I’m not due for another four weeks. It’s just some cramps, maybe he’s getting in position for later.”

He eyed me suspiciously. “Are you sure? It might be premature labour.”

“Jack.”

“Okay, okay,” he dropped it and leaned in to give me a kiss to wish me goodnight.

However, before his lips could even touch mine, Olive started freaking out. At first, it was just a low growl, but as soon as Jack leaned over her to get closer to me, she started barking loudly. And it wasn’t a bark that asked for attention. It was a threatening protective bark, warning him to stay away from me.

“Excuse me!” Jack gasped loudly and directed his gaze down to Olive who was still tightly against my side.

“Olive!” I scolded and pointed at the end of our bed. “Down, now.”

She looked at me with guilt written all across her face, but moved down anyway. Her movements were slowly and sneaky, showing just how much she knew she was being told off. Once she reached my feet, she laid down and kept staring at me lowly and carefully.

Jack reached out to touch me, only for her to growl again. All I could do was frown as he retracted his hand. And she stopped. Jack and I both watched her as he slowly went to graze my shoulder. The closer he inched, the louder the growl became. The further he moved away, the quieter she got.

“What’s up with her?” Jack cocked his head in intrigue and confusion.

“I have no idea…” I shook my head in bewilderment. “I guess she can sense I’m not feeling great.”

“Huh…”

I quickly stretched out to plant a kiss on his lips instead, getting no reaction out of Olive at all.

“One-sided much?” Jack gave her a little glare before reaching back to turn off the lights.

We shuffled around to get more comfortable in the dark. It meant I had to maneuver around Olive a little, since she kept trying to be as close to me as possible, but eventually Jack and I managed to get into a position comfortable for us. He was on his back while I stayed on my side and had my head on his shoulder. We laid there in silence until Jack suddenly turned around to face me.

He put his hands on my belly and looked down at it. “You better stop hurting mommy, okay? She’s been growing you, you’ve gotta be kind.”

I guess he could somehow tell that my stomach ache was only getting worse as time slowly passed us by. I could only smile softly in response. As if nothing had happened, he flipped back onto his back and let me snuggle into him again, practically using him as a body pillow. I kissed his cheek and nuzzled my nose against the side of his face, hoping for sleep to finally consume me hours after I had originally gone to bed.

Things didn’t go too great during the night. I was up a lot. It was still relatively okay at the beginning, but I kept waking up randomly. The pain in my stomach was definitely still there. It also wasn’t getting any better. If it was getting worse, though, I didn’t know. I was constantly in a state of being half asleep. It was difficult to even notice all my senses at that point.

I finally fell into a nice sleep at around six am, when the sun had already risen. Unfortunately, I was woken up just a few hours later by Jack, who was trying to slowly bring me out of my sleep by peppering butterfly kissed all over my face. I groaned, feeling anything but rested, wishing he wouldn’t have even tried to wake me up.

“It’s nine am,” he told me in a whisper.

I breathed out heavily. “That means I’ve had three hours of sleep.”

“What?! Why!”

“Because I didn’t feel great,” I grumbled, the pillow against my cheek preventing me from talking properly.

“Shit, do you still feel bad?” He sat up and ran his fingers through my hair. “Should we maybe call the doctor?”

“I surprisingly feel okay right now…” I suddenly realised. Yes, I still felt a little nauseous and uncomfortable, but the pain was mainly gone.

“Thank god,” he sighed in relief and started getting out of bed. “You get some more sleep and I’ll make sure Lisa and Alex get their breakfast and coffee.”

“Okay.” My eyes felt heavy, but I still grabbed his hand before he could walk away. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he responded and gently kissed my hand before dropping it and disappearing to take a shower.

I fell asleep again right after. It was a proper deep sleep. Finally. I didn’t wake up for another few hours, but when I did it was very abruptly. Let’s say I didn’t wake up ‘naturally’, or better to say I didn’t wake up because I was fully rested. Instead it was pain that woke me up. It started in the middle of my stomach and grew out. If there hadn’t been a bump in the way, I would have curled up and cradled my stomach.

Slowly, it dissipated and I was left to feel a bit better. I quickly got out of bed with my heart thumping like crazy. Whatever was happening wasn’t good. My doctor had told me all about braxton hicks contractions, and I did have them before. Only it hurt more this time. Maybe I just felt them a bit more this time?

But while I was taking a shower and brushing my teeth, the pain kept coming back in random intervals. There was no real pattern to it yet, but I just knew. I didn’t wait any longer to go downstairs. Alex, Lisa, and Jack were all in our formal living room having even more coffee than they had with breakfast. They were just chatting while Lisa was also busy doing something on her iPad.

“Rachel!” Alex was the first to notice me, giving me a big smile. “You feeling any better?”

“About that…” I breathed out and supported my back with my hands, making eye contact with Jack. “You were right.”

“What?” He shook his head in confusion.

“I am definitely in labour right now.”

I could just see everybody’s face turn into surprised and worried expressions. They were all staring at me. Alex and Lisa were mainly shocked, unsure how to react (although there was also a hint of excitement is Lisa’s body language). And Jack? Well he just looked pale. I got it, though. I felt the way he looked. We thought we had a bit longer to properly prepare, especially mentally.

Jack only managed to say one thing. “Shit, really?”

“No, I was just…” Another contraction hit me, making me breath in sharply and I tried to get the rest of my sentence out, “messing… with… you.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, that helps, thanks.” I gave him a sarcastic thumbs up as the pain already started fading away.

He got up quickly and raked his fingers through his hair harshly. “I mean– I just– shit.”

“Would you like to sit down?” Alex offered me, also starting to stand up to be of my assistance.

I nodded my head yes, but also didn’t really accept his proposal. He was ready to help me to the couch, yet I just lowered myself onto the floor and sat there instead. It seemed like the more comfortable position, even though I knew I wouldn’t be able to get back up later. Olive immediately walked over from her spot on the carpet to come sit by my side again, ready to protect me from any harm.

“Alright,” Jack was finally ready to take action, “should I call somebody? Do I need to do something specific?”

“Call the doctor,” I instructed, trying to stretch out a little to see if my back would feel any better, “because I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to be in labour yet.”

“Okay…” he jumped away from the couches and ran upstairs even though he had his phone on him.

I just let him do whatever, figuring rational thinking wasn’t exactly his top priority right now. While he was off doing that, I gave my full attention to Olive. There wasn’t much else I could do. I was in too much pain to go and clean up the house a little, as much as I wanted to come back to a clean house after giving birth. And I also didn’t really have the power to entertain Lisa and Alex right now. All I could do was sit and wait for this baby to come out of me.

“Are you okay?” Lisa asked with concern.

“Yeah,” I replied, continuing to rub Olive’s ears. “I knew this was coming, but I didn’t think it would be so soon.”

“Is there anything we can do to help?”

I shook my head, already dreading the next time a contraction hit. “Not really, no. Unless you’d like to switch bodies and do this for me?”

“I think I’ll let you take that one by yourself,” she chuckled.

I huffed, trying to focus all my attention on Olive to distract me from the pain that started up again. I could tell that my contractions were starting to become more regular and longer, but they definitely didn’t feel like one minute long yet. My doctor had said that there was no point going in until my contractions were five minutes apart and sixty seconds long. But I was unsure about that now. It was too early.

A few minutes later, Jack came tumbling down the stairs again, wanting to go faster than his feet could handle. He was carrying a duffle bag sloppily on his shoulder and his phone was clutched in his hand. Somehow, his hair was now a complete mess and he looked like he had seen something traumatising.

“I have spare clothes, baby clothes, toiletries and important documents,” he stated as he dropped the bag on the floor. “Is there anything else we need?”

I just stared back at him. Where was this sudden need to panic and rush coming from?

“Fuck! Car seat!” he suddenly exclaimed and ran to the stairs again. “I haven’t even finished building the crib yet! Shit!”

I raised my eyebrows and looked at Alex and Lisa while Jack was dashing upstairs. “Is he in labour, or am I?”

“I’ll go check up on him,” Alex chuckled and took the same path Jack had, only much more calm and collected.

Which left just me and Lisa downstairs.

“We’ll take care of Olive while you’re at the hospital,” she told me, looking at the dog who was still stuck to my side like she was the only thing keeping me alive right now.

“Thanks.” I smiled back. I had completely forgotten about Olive even though she was the one thing I was trying to pay attention to right now. “My parents were supposed to come over at the end of next week to help us out, but it’s a little late now.”

It didn’t take long until Jack and Alex came back downstairs. Jack seemed much calmer now as he carried down the car seat we had bought a while ago, full of extra blankets for our baby. He wasn’t one-hundred-percent normal, of course. There was still a lot of worry and stress behind his eyes. Afterall, he was becoming a first time dad and I was in premature labour, but he was no longer pacing around and swearing.

“Alright,” he announced as he picked up the duffle bag again, “we should go, the doctors wanted us to come as soon as possible to keep an eye on everything.”

I nodded and let go off Olive, putting my hands behind me to try and push myself up.

“Here,” Alex quickly jogged up to me and held out his hands.

I took hold of them and let him pull me up, which was relatively difficult. But it worked, he was somehow strong enough. I walked up to where Jack was already at the front door and grabbed a pair of shoes, not even bothering to put them on now. It would be dreadful to get down and tie them right now. Luckily it was warm enough for me not to need a coat.

“You guys know where everything is,” Jack told Alex and Lisa while he opened the front door. “Just eat whatever you want.”

“Good luck!” Lisa shouted as we left.

Jack practically threw everything onto the back seat before helping me into the car. Although I insisted that I could do it myself, having his hand on me supportingly did actually help, especially when a contraction hit me again just as I was about to sit. Once he shut my door, he quickly ran to the driver’s side and got in as well.

“Okay, let’s do this!” He sighed with a cheer, turning on the car. “Well, actually, you can do this!”

I chuckled and rolled my head to the left to look at him.

“In just a matter of time, we’re going to be parents.” He smiled at me and picked up my hand, bringing it to his lips to press a kiss to it.

Although the pain was excruciating and long, it really did feel like just a matter of time in the end. It took hours before I was finally giving birth. I was lucky enough to be in labour now and not just a few weeks earlier. Jack was allowed to stay with me the entire time. If it had been earlier, he would have been forced to stay away until the actual birth. All because of safety precautions against the virus.

I really couldn’t have done it without Jack. Our baby wasn’t born until the late evening, meaning I had technically been in labour for more than 24 hours, but only really felt anything for ten. It was one horrid excruciating experience. I was ready to completely swear off sex for the rest of my life. But as soon as I got to hold him in my arms, I would have done it all over again.

Our baby Archie Jack Barakat.

He weighed six pounds and had the cutest little fingers and toes. His eyes were brown and he only had the tiniest bit of brown fuzz on his head. Honestly, I didn’t know if he looked more like me or Jack, he just looked like a baby, but he was absolutely beautiful.

We were lucky enough to already be able to go home the next day. Although he was born prematurely and was pretty small, there was nothing seriously wrong with him. I was absolutely exhausted, and was glad that we were already allowed to take him home.

As soon as we walked over the threshold to our house, Alex and Lisa were waiting for us. They had cleaned the entire house, gone out to stock us up on groceries, and even built the crib for us. It was the best thing to come home to after a hectic day and restless night. They really didn’t have to, but they still did. Even after all that, they offered to stay until my parents came over, who had rescheduled their trip to arrive in two days.

It was amazing.

Little Archie.

–––––

Archie was three months old, and it was pretty exhausting… as much as I loved him. Every two to three hours, he’d wake up and start screaming. It made complete sense, of course, he was a newborn and needed constant feeding, but that didn’t mean that the sleep deprivation was getting to me. Jack was still there the entire time the first two months, but during the third, he was gone most of the time. Although the world wasn’t fully back to normal again, All Time Low was doing things again. Small things, but it still required him to travel. Which meant I was the only one there to constantly wake up.

Luckily, Jack came back again after three weeks. He took over his half of the ‘shifts’ again, which was great for my wellbeing. The first day he came back, he actually let me catch up on sleep during the day while he spent time with Archie. It was like our roles were flipped. Usually, when Jack came home, he was the one that would need hours of sleep. Now I was the one that needed that well deserved nap.

Like we always did, Jack and I switched who would wake up every time Archie would call us. It was around four am, when I had finally fallen into a deep sleep, that we could hear clear cries coming from the nursery and the baby monitor.

“Your turn,” I mumbled while lying on my stomach, my face squished into the pillow.

“I know,” Jack responded and yawned before forcing himself out of bed.

While he was out tending to Archie, I started drifting off to sleep again. There was just one issue. It was difficult to actually fall asleep with the crying still going on. I was on the edge of the deep plunge that would bring me to a nice deep slumber until it was my turn to wake up at six. But hearing my baby cry made me stay alert. Maternal instinct, if you will.

When it felt like it had been way too long, it was impossible to actually fall asleep. I woke up fully and just had to check up to see what was going on. I was sure that Jack would come to me if something was wrong, but I still had this need to check.

So, out of bed I got. I stretched out as I left the bedroom and walked down to the room we had turned into the nursery. The hallway was completely dark, but there was a little light coming from Archie’s room, enough light to guide me to the right place.

I knocked on the doorpost and rubbed my eyes a little. “Jack? Every good?”

“Everything fine,” he responded quickly while rocking Archie back and forth in his arms to try and sooth him, facing away from me.

It did seem like Jack was telling the truth. But then he turned around and I could see that it was a lie. Jack’s eyes were bloodshot and tearing up, his lip trembling just a little as he was trying to hold back his own tears. Archie was screaming in his arms, flailing around his own limbs.

“What’s wrong?” I gasped in concern, rushing up to him. I wiped away a tear that started rolling down his cheek.

“I can’t get him to quiet down,” he inhaled a ragged breath, “he won’t take his bottle and won’t stop crying!”

“Hey, it’s okay,” I tried to calm him down and took Archie from him. “Come here.”

I bounced Archie a few times and he slowly stopped his crying. It turned into fussing and hiccuping until he completely quieted down. He stared up at me expectantly, waiting to get fed. I wasn’t sure if he could recognise me, but he knew the routine by now.

I looked up at Jack, smiling to show him that everything was okay. But I just found Jack already watching us with tears streaming down his face. Immediately, my own face fell.

“Jack…” I breathed out, not knowing what was going on.

He took a step away and tugged on his hair as he shook his head. “He doesn’t like me.”

“That’s not true.” I frowned.

“He only screamed louder when I picked him up,” he argued back, the tears not showing signs of stopping anytime soon. “He’s in your arms and he’s happy.”

“That’s just because I’m his main food source,” I comforted, still rocking Archie back and forth to keep him content for now. “When he’s older, you’ll be his favourite. You can teach him to speak, you’ll bring him back cool toys from all around the world, you can teach him how to ride a bike, you’ll be there to give him all the tasty unhealthy snacks. You’ll be his hero.”

Jack tried to wipe his tears away, but it wasn’t really any use. He continued to be on the verge of crying himself. I would have blamed it on the exhaustion, but he had gotten more sleep the past three weeks than he had gotten the entire two months before that. I got it, though. I was lucky that I immediately had a close connection with Archie, but I had been so afraid that that wouldn’t have come, especially with how Jack did most of the work in the first week.

“Just–” I guided Jack to the chair we always fed Archie in and made him sit down. When he seemed to be comfortable, I took a seat right on top of him in his lap and nudged his arms. “Hold Archie for me, will ya?”

He did as I asked, and wrapped his arms around me to support the small fragile body. With my own hands now free, I rolled my shirt up and exposed my left breast, which was the one Archie tended to like the most. I directed Jack with slight movements and touches to make Archie line up. Once he got a good hold, I relaxed into Jack and nuzzled my head into the crook of his neck. He looked down at Archie with something that almost seemed like fascination. Maybe it was admiration.

There was still some sniffing, but the tears were starting to dry up.

“You see, he just wanted me for food, he’s perfectly happy in your arms,” I whispered.

Jack just hummed in response, not taking his eyes off Archie for even a second. After a few seconds of silent love and adoration, he finally spoke up and said. “He’s so small.”

I nodded. It was true, he was still pretty small, but he was also already so much bigger than when he was born. For now, he was still a newborn, but it was starting to go so fast. Before I knew it, he would be walking around and babbling, he’d have his first day at school, he’d be graduating and moving out. I didn’t want it to go by so fast. All I could do was savour every moment and hold onto it forever.

“Do you really think I’ll be his hero?” Jack questioned, shifting Archie in his arms a little so they wouldn’t start tingling.

“Of course!” I responded and pressed a kiss to his jawline. “He’ll always love you.”

“He’ll probably hate our music,” he chuckled. “I’ll be the uncool dad who plays uncool music.”

“Or he’ll love it and want to be a guitarist just like you.”

He broke away his gaze for the first time and glanced at me with shock and fear. “I hope not! He shouldn’t drink as much and party as much as I have.”

I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he kissed the top of my head and then looked back down at Archie, who was still drinking away peacefully, “and I love you too, Archie!”

–––––

When Archie was nine months old, Jack’s schedule had practically returned back to normal. He was touring again. The venues were small as not many people were allowed to go to the shows, but they still happened. Jack was just excited to go out and play live music again, even though he hated leaving me and Archie behind. But it was what we had signed up for. I never married Jack thinking he’d drop everything and stay with me.

I had always made it a point to visit Jack at least once on tour. With a newborn, that promise had kind of been broken, but now that Archie was getting older, I dared to take him on a plane with me to flight out. It was strange to think that he was now older than I had ever been pregnant with him. Nine months. It had flown by.

I had Archie in his pram, a bag with all the stuff I needed for him, and a suitcase of my own as I walked through the airport. Before having a baby, I managed to visit Jack with just hand luggage. Now I had to check in a large suitcase, have a bag full of diapers and bottles, and have an easy handbag for our passports and my phone and wallet. It was like I was going on a four week vacation, not a quick one week trip.

Although I knew to plan in extra time in case I got slowed down with Archie, I also made the decision not to go to the airport too early. Hanging around and waiting to board the airplane with a baby constantly wanting attention while feeling uncomfortable wasn’t a good plan. Somehow, I had managed to time it all perfectly. We made it through security with 20 minutes left to spare before boarding started. It was enough time for me to change Archie’s diaper and for me to go to the bathroom myself.

I was mainly afraid of the flight. It was four hours long, which was actually relatively short, but I had no idea how Archie was going to react. I didn’t want to be that one parent who couldn’t get control of their kid as they kept screaming their little lungs out. I didn’t want to annoy everybody on the plane. Fortunately it wasn’t an overnight flight, that would have been a nightmare for me.

Once we started boarding, I was forced to leave the stroller behind for them to put it in along with the check-in baggage. Then, the trek to my seat started. It was somewhere in the middle of the plane, but luckily I did have an aisle seat. Since Archie was going to have to sit on my lap the entire time, I welcomed the slight extra space and ability to get up and walk around.

When I finally found my seat, I was glad to find that the person next to me was already seated. That meant less standing up with Archie clumsily in my hands as a whole row of people waited behind me. I somehow managed to get my bag up in the overhead lockers, getting a bit of help from the guy behind me. When I finally sat down and put Archie on my lap, he started pounding his hands on my legs and cooing.

“Are you excited to see dada?” I asked him. Whenever I spoke to him, I tried to throw around the word dada as much as possible. He hadn’t said his first word yet, but I practically always begged him to say it whenever Jack and I were facetiming. It would make his entire year.

“Isn’t he a cute one?” The old lady next to me said, leaning forward and giving him a little wave.

I chuckled softly as Archie reacted positively to the extra attention he was getting. “I hope he stays cute during the flight. He’s never been on a plane before, so I have no idea how he’ll react.”

“He hasn’t? He seems to enjoy it so far.” She held out a finger, which Archie immediately grabbed and started playing with.

“No.” I shook my head and kissed the top of his head, taking in his baby scent. “We were planning on getting him used to travelling early on, but that wasn’t exactly an option anymore.”

“Things have changed, haven’t they?” She agreed and looked up at me while Archie kept hold of her finger. “Did you travel a lot before?”

“Sort of, yeah. Well, actually it’s my husband who travels a lot for work and is gone for long periods of time. I occasionally go out to see him. Now it’s the first time Archie gets to come along!”

She beamed at the name. “Ooh, Archie! My father’s name was Archibald.”

“It’s a nice name.” I didn’t really have the heart to tell her that Archie’s official name was just Archie. Both Jack and I knew it was actually a nickname for Archibald, but we just didn’t want to give our child a name that sounded so… fancy… old?

“I think it suits him very well!”

I never did catch her name, but she was like a saint the entire journey. She kept me distracted, making sure I didn’t worry about Archie getting unruly, meaning that he also couldn’t react to my non existing stress. Sometimes the stress I felt when he was crying only made him cry more.

We spoke a bit about ourselves. She told me about how she was flying out to see her daughter, who she hadn’t seen in months now. I told her a little bit more about Jack and our relationship. She helped me keep Archie busy and even took him from my lap so I could get up and go to the bathroom. I really was lucky to have been seated next to her. It made the trip so much more bearable.

Archie had practically been awake the entire flight, meaning he was out like a light when we touched down. He continued to sleep deeply against my shoulder as I got off the plane, walked through the airport, got the checked-in luggage and stroller, and even during the entire ride in the taxi. Luckily, I had fed him right before he fell asleep, so I wasn’t very worried about him suddenly screaming as I got us to the venue Jack was at. He only woke up when we got out of the taxi and I was suddenly busy trying to figure out how to carry everything and text somebody that I was outside. It was actually perfect timing.

Archie would be so happy to see Jack again.

As I started trying to find out where to go to get in, I realised that I was on the complete wrong side of the building. But there was only one way to get to the other side. Well, one way other than a sketchy back alley that I was definitely not going to find myself walking down ever. Not even with a personal armed bodyguard. My only route to take was past the front entrance and all the fans waiting to get inside. That was a clear winner.

I pushed the stroller and pulled along the suitcase, trying my best to avoid the queue. Usually, there was bound to be at least one person to recognise me. Although I didn’t mind talking to Jack’s fans, I also didn’t want to overwhelm Archie. He’d already had a busy and adventure packed day. I preferred him leaving some energy to actually see Jack over him crying in exhaustion as soon as I entered the venue.

When I was about halfway past the line, I heard my name being called out. I had no idea where it was coming from, but out of politeness, I slowed down. Suddenly, a small group of three girls were surrounding me.

“Hi!” One of them blurted out with wide eyes.

“Hey,” I returned with a big smile, “how are you guys?”

“Good!” She squeaked back. “Are you here to visit Jack?”

“I am indeed.”

Archie started to get impatient. He wanted to get out and move around after being forced to sit the majority of the day. Ever since he started crawling, he couldn’t really sit still for long anymore. The definition of Jack’s child. He started to kick around his legs in annoyance and made blubbering noises, which he usually did when he wanted to be let out of his car seat or high chair.

“He’s so cute!” Another girl, who was standing at the end of the stroller gushed.

“Thanks,” I acknowledged. Although I often got comments like that, it always made me feel a little proud. Afterall, Jack and I literally made him.

“Can I get a picture?” The first girl asked me as she held out her phone.

“Of course!” I accepted.

She turned on her selfie camera and got in closer. I put on a smile and posed with her as she took a few pictures. Everything was still going fine until she was satisfied with the outcome of the pictures. She put her phone back in her pocket and I realised that the person who had made the comment about Archie being cute was taking her own photos of him. It wasn’t even subtle. She was crouched down, acting like she was playing with him with one hand, but the other one quickly taking snaps with her phone.

“I’m sorry,” I interrupted as she just kept taking more and more, “do you mind not taking any photos of him?”

“Oh, no, it’s okay,” she shook her head and took another one, “I won’t post them anywhere.”

I frowned and glared a little at her. Yes, Jack and I had decided not to post any pictures of him with his face clearly in it except for his birth announcement. We didn’t want to plaster his face all over the internet when he had no say in it. That was for him to decide later in life when he had his own opinions. But the way this girl just dismissed my request was making my blood boil. Her reasoning was not comforting at all.

I would have kept my cool and asked again nicely, but she was just being rude to me. “You do realise that’s even creepier right? You’re taking countless pictures of my son to keep for yourself. How would you like it if some stranger came up to you and took photos just for them to keep?”

She gave me a judgemental look but did stop taking even more pictures. “I’m not going to do anything weird with them.”

“I’m not saying you will, it’s just disrespectful. There’s a reason we don’t share pictures of him.”

“He’s just a baby.”

“Exactly. Would you please mind deleting the photos?”

She gave me the death stare and her two friends just stood around uncomfortably. They were defending her, but I wasn’t sure if it was because they agreed with me or because they were too afraid to say anything. Either way, they didn’t want this confrontation.

“Please,” I repeated, still staring at her to show that I wasn’t going to break.

She huffed in annoyance as if her mom had just told her no dessert until the vegetables on her plate were finished. Still, she reluctantly unlocked her phone and selected all the photos she took. There was some hesitation before she hit the delete button, as if waiting for me to change my mind. But I wasn’t going to. This was my baby we were talking about.

“Thank you.” I smiled while she gave me an unamused scowl. I then looked at the other two girls, “It was nice meeting you guys!”

“You too…” the girl who took selfies with me mumbled.

I then took my opportunity to leave. As soon as they thought I was out of range, the rude girl grumbled ‘what a bitch’, but I really wasn’t bothered. Nobody messes with my child. I didn’t care if that meant she now hated me. I full-heartedly believed that I was right. Actually, no, I knew that I was right. It was not cool to take pictures of a baby without permission, especially a stranger’s baby. They might have felt like they knew me because they were Jack’s fans, but they really didn’t.

Luckily, I wasn’t stopped again and managed to make it into the venue without any further hassle. A member of the crew let me in and brought me to where all the fun was happening before leaving to get on with setting up. I turned the corner to enter the green room and saw a few guys standing around, including Jack slouching on the couch, manspreading like he had all the space in the world.

When he coincidentally looked in my direction, a smile spread across his face. He got up and immediately came towards me. Once he was close enough, he kissed me as a greeting. More than a peck, but still PG-13 with all these people around us. As soon as he broke away from me, he went straight to Archie, undoing the clips of the seat. Archie knew exactly who was coming. He started letting out excited noises and screams, kicking his legs and throwing up his arms. He was so happy when Jack picked him up.

“How has my little man been?” He asked in his voice reserved for Archie, ticking his tummy and bouncing him a little, getting an ecstatic squeal out of him. “Have you been good today?”

While Jack was giving Archie countless kisses all over his little face, I decided to answer the question. “He was so good on the plane. Didn’t even cry during the descent! I was lucky, though, the woman next to us loved him and helped me keep him occupied the entire time.”

“You’ve been so good!” Jack gasped in his baby voice. “Did you like the plane?”

I chuckled softly and left Jack have his moment with Archie. Although Jack had been so afraid they would never bond when Archie was still very young, they were now inseparable. Facetiming ‘dada’ was always one of his favourite parts of the day when Jack was gone. Otherwise, playtime with dada or a nap with him was the best.

“I got you something!” Jack remembered excitedly and walked over to his backpack. Out he pulled a stuffed gray elephant and he started showing it off to Archie. He went to sit down again and started talking through the elephant while Archie grabbed a handful of the toy.

I walked further inside and moved the stroller and suitcase to the side of the room, so I wouldn’t be blocking the doorway. It wasn’t really the best place to put them, they were still a little in the way with how much space they took up, but anything was better than leaving them in a walkway.

“Rachel!” Alex approached, coming from somewhere else in the venue and seeing me from the hallway.

“Hey!” I replied as we shared a hug.

“How was your flight?”

“Pretty good, actually.”

“So Archie behaved?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise. As if on cue, Archie started giggling loudly at something Jack was doing. “Archie! I haven’t seen you since you were born!”

He really was getting all the attention today. Alex even went to sit next to Jack and join in with the playing. It did look fun, and Archie was as cute as ever. But I had just spent four hours with him on my lap. Having other people take over was a nice little break.

“We set up the back lounge to be a big bed for you guys,” Alex informed me, looking up from how he was leaning over to be eye height with Archie.

“You didn’t have to do that!” I told him

“No, no we definitely did,” Jack quickly interrupted before I could change anybody’s mind. “I’m not sleeping in a bunk with all three of us.”

“I was just expecting it would be me and Archie on the couch,” I admitted. A bunk with Archie wouldn’t work.

With all the stuff I brought along I also had a travel crib. It wasn’t really a crib, more like a fold out basket that was made of soft fabric and had a little mattress built in on the bottom. Although I didn’t mind taking naps with Archie, I didn’t want him actually in bed with me at night. I was too afraid I’d smother him with our blankets if we did. But if he was in the crib-like thing, I could put him next to me and he’d be safe.

Alex shook his head. “No, we figured this would work out better. You’d be in the back lounge anyway.”

“Well, thanks, then, I appreciate it.”

A few minutes later, Alex was pulled away to go do something else, meaning I could take his spot next to Jack on the couch. I was leaning against his side, my head against his shoulder, and my legs resting on top of his knees. Archie was still taking up most of the space on his lap. The exhaustion was starting to hit me now, but I couldn’t help but enjoy this moment with my little family.

Jack was still playing with the elephant. Archie seemed to absolutely love that thing already. Usually, it took him a while to warm up to new toys, but this was like his new favourite one. I didn’t know how Jack knew he’d fall in love with it. It was just so cute to see. Both Archie and Jack were delighted, sharing a very similar smile.

“Can you say elephant?” Jack said slowly, holding out the toy for Archie.

All he got in return was something that sounded like ‘eeeee’. Maybe he was trying to copy the sounds Jack was making, maybe it was just a coincidence. But it was definitely exciting to get something that was relatively close out of him.

“What about dada, can you say dada?” I asked, stroking his cheek.

He stared at me with his big beautiful brown eyes, inspecting my face. And then it suddenly happened.

“Da. Da.” He blurted out.

Jack looked at me with wide eyes as he gasped. To be honest, I was a little shocked as well. Ecstatic, but shocked that he just suddenly copied me.

“Dada!” Archie repeated, slamming his fists against Jack’s chest.

That’s all that we needed to know he was copying me and knew at least what it sort of meant. Jack cheered and picked him up. Archie wouldn’t stop laughing and screeching with joy as he was peppered with kisses coming from Jack.

Those two were inseparable.

.

.

.

.

So, this is the last part of this story. I thought this was a nice place to round it off. However, I have been thinking about writing a few more parts. Only, they'd be much much shorter. Maybe around 700-1500 words. Like little moments in time. If it's something any of you would be interested in, do let me know, otherwise I'll put that time into my other stories.

[sicky-hobi]

Worst timing

Wanted to write something for our baby maknaes birthday yeeyee

This is kinda a mess I’m sorry

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Jeongguk is convinced he’s coming down with a something. It all started that morning when he woke up in a cold sweat, his head was killing him, and he kept having random cold spells come over his body.

Out of all days, why today? Today was his 23rd birthday and he was supposed to go out later that night with the rest of his band mates. Maybe he just needs to eat something, he tells himself.

When he stands up a dizzy spell comes over him causing him to sway on his feet with closed eyes for a few seconds. Catching his balance he makes his way downstairs and pops a piece of bread in the toaster.

His headache was getting worse and he was freezing cold. Resting his arms on the table and lays his head down. He really doesn’t feel good. He feels so tired. He doesn’t know how he’s gonna get through tonight. Just as he’s drifting off to sleep the toasted bread pops out of the toaster making him jump.

After eating the toast it sits in his stomach like a rock. Why does he feel so bloated all of a sudden? Burps force their way up his throat. His stomach is starting to cramp up. He needs to get to a bathroom. Fast. But when he stood up, his legs felt like jello. He wouldn’t be able to make it upstairs without throwing up on the floor.

He weakly walks over to the sink and leans over it, palms placed on either sides. His stomach turns again and he gags harshly only bringing up a bit of saliva that strings from his mouth down into the sink. Thankfully there was no dishes in the sink because with the next gag he brings up a wave of vomit follows by more thick waves.

He’s left gagging weakly over the sink having nothing to bring up. Jeongguk turns on the tap to try and get rid of some of the mess.

Feeling to sick and weak to go back up the stairs he lays down on the couch and falls asleep.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Seokjin had been trying to contact the younger all day, but getting no response. “I think Jeongguk has completely forgotten about tonight.”

“Yeah probably. Most likely in his pitch black room playing video games” Hoseok ads.

“Maybe if he doesn’t want to come to us, we’ll surprise him at his house” Taehyung suggests.

They all agree and get themselves ready to go to Jeongguks house.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The older six members arrive at the maknaes house and knock and wait for an answer. It’s been about a minute and Jeongguk still hasn’t come to the door. “Kook cmon this isn’t funny anymore. Let us in” Yoongi says knocking on the door again.

A few more minutes of waiting they start to get frustrated. They even called multiple times. “That’s it” Seokjin grabs the spare key from jeongguks mailbox and lets them in.

“Jeonggu-“ Seokjin starts to yell out before seeing the boy curled up hugging his stomach on the couch. He looks horrible. He’s so pale, and his long hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead. Jeongguk is woken up by the noise of the other entering is house.

“Jeongguk! What have you been doing? Sleeping all day? If you didn’t want to come tonight you should have just told us instead of making us worried about you” Yoongi scolds him. Seokjin goes over to Jeongguk kneels down in front of him. “Hey bubby, you okay?” The older boys asks feeling Jeongguks forehead. It was burning. “Gguk, you’re so warm. Are you sick?”

Jeongguk nods and sits up. “My tummy hurts so bad. I was gonna tell you but then I-I threw up and I-“ the sick boy sobbed. “You got sick baby?” Seokjin says brushing his hair out if his eyes. Jeongguk nods feeling so nauseous.

Seokjin sits beside him and rubs his back. The others crowd around. Jeongguk closes his eyes as his stomach continues to cramp and gurgle.

Without a warning the sick boy lurches forward with a gag bringing up yet again another wave of sick onto the floor in front of him. “Oh jeonggukie it’s okay. Just get it up.” Seokjin pulls back jeongguks long hair and rubs his back. Soon a bucket is placed in his lap where he dry heaves over the bin.

After a few minutes Jeongguk is left crying with guilt. “I’m sorry” he sobs into Seokjin chest. “Oh honey, you have nothing to be sorry about. Your tummy is sick you can’t help it.” “Let’s get you cleaned up a bit. Can you make it upstairs?” Seokjin asks. Getting a nod in response they move Jeongguk upstairs to the bathroom and change his clothes and tie his hair into a tiny pony tail on his head so it was out of the way just in case he get sick again which was a huge possibility.

Just as Seokjin and Jimin get Jeongguk settles in bed with a bucket by the bedside Yoongi walks in.

“Hey ggukie, how ya feeling?”

“Tummy hurts.” Jeongguk says softly whispers. It breaks yoongis heart. He feels awful for yelling at the poor boy when he was clearly sick. “I’m sorry for getting mad at you earlier bunny.” Yoongi says. “It’s okay, you’re right I should have at least said something to you guys.” Jeongguks says. “Pretty rough birthday eh?” Yoongis laughs but sees that Jeongguk is pretty out if it and is clearly in pain. “Want me to rub your tummy?” Yoongi asks and thensuck boy nods and Yoongi rubs Jeongguk stomach until he falls asleep.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

I hope you guys enjoyed it!! Ily