#sickfic writing

[sicktember]

Hello! I was wondering about day 7's prompt, Borrowed Hoodie. Do we have to stick with a hoodie or can it be any article of clothing?

When we picked the prompt 'Borrowed Hoodie,' it was because hoodies are often portrayed as warm and comforting- the perfect article for a sick character.

That being said, any clothing item would work! You're welcome to stretch this (or any) prompt in whatever way compels you. It's always interesting to see how everyone chooses to interpret things!

[angstyaches]

Page Sixty-Nine

Lilith Mars Forrester (they/them) and Blake Forte (he/him) belong to my WIP, Madame A’s Retreat for Spellworking.

No sickness or whump. Just a snippet with character vibes.

___

It was late afternoon, and Lilith had just found Blake in the library. He was cradling a leather-bound book in both hands and his back was slightly arched as he sat in the green-and-orange chair that he’d re-established as his designated ‘reading’ spot ever since his return. Lilith would have liked to scoff at his audacity, but had to admit that the tangerine tinge of his hair, and the dark tones that wove through most of his clothing choices, suited the aesthetic of the upholstery. He and that chair looked like a painting.

Unluckily for him, Lilith believed in a firm rift between the art and the artist. Blake and that chair and that book might all look beautiful together, but they knew the bullshit behind the visuals.

They walked right over to him and slapped the book out of his hands.

Its covers collapsed together and it flipped onto its back side before landing on the floorboards with a thunk.

"Hey!” Blake screamed. “You made me lose my page, asshole."

"Page sixty-nine," Lilith snapped. "Same page you've been ‘reading’ for the past two weeks."

Lilith half-expected him to say something snarky about Lilith looking over his shoulder often enough to notice that he never turned any pages. 

“I’m a slow reader.”

“The other day, you had your book upside down. For an hour!”

If Blake had been flustered, it only lasted a couple of seconds before his face corrected itself.

“It’s page sixty-nine,” he shrugged. “It’s the same both ways.”

“Oh, shut... up,” Lilith murmured, trying not to think too hard about the fact that Blake was, infuriatingly, right.

Blake folded his arms.

“So, what are you actually thinking about all day?" Lilith planted their hands on their hips and tilted their head so aggressively that their whole body leaned to the side. "While you're staring a page, pretending to read? What’s going on in that head of yours?"

Blake shrugged. "I don't know. Chickens with bras on? Did you want something from me, Lilypad?"

Lilith almost physically retched in repulsion. Giving out nicknames was one of their proudest talents, and they sincerely hoped this wasn’t a case of their own medicine tasting terrible. “Okay, hate that. Knock that off this instant.”

Blake shrugged as if he couldn’t give a shit whether or not this conversation progressed. Or whether or not Lilith lived or died. 

“What’d you want?” he repeated.

“I wanted to ask you what you came back here for!” Lilith gestured all around them, at the books and the leather and the gentle streams of sunlight that fanned out across the floorboards. It all seemed aggressively at odds with Blake’s icy presence. “Hmm? You’re not here to improve your skills. You’re not here to make friends. So what the fuck are you here for, Blake?"

Blake’s lips curled just a little. He leaned back into the armchair and propped a couple of fingers under his chin. It made Lilith bristle whenever they were reminded of the serene, commanding presence that Blake was capable of exuding; like his body was a golden statue, and he was surrounded by plastic imitations.

“Well?” Lilith asked, emphasising that their questions were not rhetorical. 

They were pissed off enough that they genuinely wanted answers out of this guy. They’d have been lying if they denied being vaguely curious, too. Something had held Blake’s attention elsewhere for two solid years, and suddenly he was back at Madame A’s retreat, acting as though he’d never given a shit about anything or anyone in his life. 

“What is it then? Are you here purely to make the rest of us miserable?”

"You flatter yourself, Lilypad."

"Okay, this is your last warning. Call me that again and I'll -"

Blake snorted. "This'll be good."

Lilith ground their teeth. Even if they could think of a suitable threat, Blake was going to dismiss them anyway. It was thankless work, arguing with this guy. It was better to scrunch your annoyance up into a little ball and store it somewhere within yourself. 

"Blake.” Lilith lined up the tips of their fingers on each hand and pressed them together. “You've got Rex picking up the slack for you on the pairs project. You’re mean to Astrophel...”

“When have I ever been -?”

Lilith parted their hands, demanding to be allowed to finish. “You haven't cooked for us on any of your designated nights. You don't even hang out with us after lessons.”

"Fuck’s sake, is this what you're upset about?” The ghost of a smirk crept over Blake’s face. “That I won't come to your tedious Doctor Who marathons?"

"If you would just give Capaldi a chance - hmph." Lilith stroked their hands through the air to calm themself. "Blake.”

“Lil....”

Orion, give me strength.

“...lith,” Blake finished, his face the picture of forced innocence. The picture of a smug shithead. 

Lilith exhaled. “Forget about hanging out with us. Forget about the dinners. No one missed your ‘plain pasta with salt’ anyway.”

“Harsh.”

“But stop. Taking. Advantage. Of. Rex,” Lilith said. “The only reason Madame A brought back the pairs projects is because there’s an even number of us this year. Thanks to you. Which means the extra work you’re dumping on Rex is double your fault.”

“You don’t give Rex enough credit.” Blake’s tone was disarmingly sharp. Accusatory, even. “If she had a real problem with me, she’d tell me herself. In fact, didn’t it occur to you that maybe she prefers not having to work with me? Do you think I didn’t see those looks all three of you gave each other when Madame A set the pairs?”

Guilt spilled over from the pot of emotions bubbling in Lilith’s gut. Had Blake really just made a series of good, morally impressive points?

“So. How about you shut up, leave me be, and stop trying to be everybody’s hero?” Blake looked nauseated, as though the word ‘hero’ had tasted like petrol on his tongue.

The guilt was abruptly washed away in a tide of anger. The least useful of the emotions, and the very last one you should bring into a conversation with Blake Forte.

Lilith turned away. For a few seconds, they were fully intent on just walking out of the library and leaving Blake’s words hanging, untouched, in the air. But before they could get through the door, they turned back around.

“Fuck you.” They wished their tone hadn’t been so gentle and matter-of-fact. They might as well have just told Blake that the weather was nice today. 

But they were still kind of relieved that they’d said it.

Blake had just leaned down to pick his book up from the floor. “Hey, Forrester, remind me - what page was I on, again?”

[whumpdreaming]

Please consider giving your whumpees the hottest, most mind-melting, intestine-boiling, miserable fever, leaving her with barely functional lungs/glazed and distant eyes/an inability to keep anything down/constant dehydration/sweat soaking everything, and with her team/caretakers completely stressed out and unsure what to do. Bonus points if it's from an infected wound. Okay thanks for considering <3

[choccy-milky]

sometimes you gotta lure your overly-studious ravenclaw gf into spending time with you 🥰 📚 ( from 'Every Teardrop is a Waterfall' by Kat_12739 on ao3, GO READ IT!!! the first story is about seb falling sick and still pushing himself/not admitting he's sick until he ends up in the hospital, the second story is about the birth of seb and clora's daughter and seb's reaction to clora almost dying in childbirth, and the third is about dealing with a fussy newborn lewis😭🥹THEY'RE SO GOOD AND SWEET AND SOMEWHAT SAD (not to mention beautifully written) so go check it out!!💖💖 )

[feveruary]

Here it is guys! The 2025 Feveruary prompts! We wanted them to be more generally comfort focused so then they be able to be interpreted in different ways to allow you guys to be as creative as you’d like!

We’re so excited to share these with you and we can’t wait to see what you write! As always feel free to ask any questions or share your excitement about this event! :D

We'll post more about how to submit your work and the AO3 collection closer to the time! For now though, we wish you goodluck and happy writing!

Text Version Below:

“How did you end up like this?” 

Burning Up then Freezing Cold 

Caught in the Rain 

Herbal Remedy 

“Could you just hold me?” 

Spoon-Feeding 

“I’m still not used to being taken care of.” 

“Couldn’t you keep your cold to yourself.” 

Face Masks 

“You’re safe, it was just a dream.” 

“You’re burning up!” 

Role Reversal – Medic to Sickie 

“I wouldn’t even trust you to boil tea in your condition!” 

Falling asleep in the wrong place 

Guiding sickie back to bed 

“Is it me or is it really warm in here?” 

“I know you want to help but you’re only making things worse.” 

Delirious 

“I know ice cream is good for sore throats but that’s way too much!” 

Lost Voice/Strep Throat 

From better to worse 

“Our date can wait! You’re far more important.” 

“You need a tissue?” 

“Don’t you think you should stay home today?” 

Standing Vigil 

“You sure I’m sick? Because I feel fine.” 

Vacation Disaster 

“Well, it sounds to me like you need a little bit of TLC.” 

Alternates:

Forced to work

Cool wash cloth

"I don't get sick!"

Sneezing Fit

[cravesunconditionallove]

Military whump prompts

(because Reddit is down and I’m chronically online)

Hearing the whumpee’s screams over the radio as they’re captured, the rest of the team frozen in horror.

• Patch job in the middle of the battlefield, someone pressing down on a wound with their bare hands, whispering, “Stay with me, okay? Just stay.”

• Post-mission debrief, but the whumpee is barely holding it together, swaying on their feet as the adrenaline wears off.

• The whumpee refusing pain meds because they need to “stay sharp,” only to pass out mid-conversation.

• “I don’t leave people behind,” they growl, limping and bleeding but refusing to abandon the unconscious teammate over their shoulder.

• Waking up in a field hospital, disoriented and panicked, pulling out the IV before being restrained by a firm but gentle voice.

• “We’re not going to make it.” “Yes, we are.” Cue one of them doing something reckless to ensure the other gets out alive.

• Cold, soaked to the bone, huddled in a ruined building during a downpour, one of them feverish while the other desperately tries to keep them awake.

• Hiding an injury to avoid being benched, only for it to get worse at the worst possible moment.

• “You don’t understand—I can’t go back. I can’t be discharged.”

• A high-ranking officer demanding a mission debrief while the whumpee is barely conscious, words slurring, bleeding through their uniform.

• A medic struggling to save the whumpee in the back of a jolting vehicle, yelling for the driver to go faster.

• Post-rescue, sitting by the whumpee’s bedside, counting every beep of the heart monitor like a prayer.

[spinzolliii]

DISCLAIMER: I HAVE NO CLUE IF THIS IS MEDICALLY ACCURATE

Something that whump writers don’t consider:

IVs feel cold. Can you imagine a room temperature liquid going directly into the bloodstream of someone who’s 97-104 degrees? It’s hellish. You can’t get warm no matter how much external heat you receive.

Imagine a delirious whumpee whimpering and clawing at an IV while being restrained and reassured by Caretaker.

“No no no, that stays in”

“Hey, hey. I know it hurts, but it’ll help you feel better”

Maybe the whumpee’s hallucinating, thinking that they’re being tortured. When Caretaker’s words fail to get through, they have to use gentle touches and singing. Or, if you want to be mean, you can have the Caretaker being forced to restrain Whumpee to prevent them from hurting themselves until they run out of energy and pass out.

[pygmi-says-hi]

writing tips - sick/poisoning fics

so since you guys ate up the injury thing like holy fuck 1.5k notes in 24 hours??? hello?? I thought I'd do a semi-related one about sickness.

disclaimer because you guys thoroughly reminded me of this: medicine is fucking weird and everybody reacts differently. this is blanket statement information, not the mayo clinic. idc that 'oh my cousin had that disease and he didn't have that symptom' okay whatever like sorry but that's not the point of this post. this is just to eliminate egregious mistakes. I'm not looking into every possible way this illness will show up. chill your tits. the comments on the last post were just like. dude. chill.

aurkay so.

poison-related illness.

okay poisoning is such a cool concept and there are literally so many cool effects it can have. Idk why everyone goes with the holy trinity of hallucinations, fainting and nausea. like yeah those are good but there are so many other things???

like internal bleeding. literally the best. I love it. It's slow but hella deadly and sometimes people can't even feel it/don't know what's happening. that's such a great option for whump or some angst. like they didn't know until it was too late. gold.

also - some poisons are not dissolvable in food or drink. Like certain medicines, they lose effectiveness if digested instead of injected intravenously. obviously you don't have to know that but if you wanna get into it, do a lil bit of research. could bring up some intriguing scenarios.

infection or sepsis

yoooo. sepsis is lowkey terrifying. infections are similar to actual illness but are caused because of an unsanitary wound. lots of interesting symptoms to browse here:

fever, cramps, fainting, hallucinations, dehydration, delirium, nausea, sores, sepsis, organ failure and on and on and on.

infection happens so fast too. like forget to change a bandage once and boom it could be infected. (is that a whump opportunity I hear...?)

sepsis is like the point of no return pretty much. Unless you've got crazy medical technology, sepsis is really really bad. basically, it's when the body overreacts and starts to damage its own tissue. leading to organ failure and then eventually death. spooky.

regular illness

this just means like a virus or something. a key point of viruses is an elevated temperature and dehydration; the body's primary responses. burn the bug out and dehydrate it.

depending on the illness, symptoms will vary. respiratory infections or viruses involve congestion, coughing, sore throats, a rattly breathing sound, and productive coughing (phlegm and mucus). Stomach illnesses include cramps, nausea, dehydration, dizziness, low blood sugar, weight loss, and diarrhea. these can overlap but mostly those are the groupings.

with fevers come achy joints and sensitive skin. fever is inflammation, like mild swelling everywhere because of how intense the antibody reaction is.

dehydration sets in really quick. really bad dehydration induces dizziness, nausea, diarrhea, delirium, lethargy, and fainting. great motivation for a whumper to possibly restrict whumpee's water intake...?

just some prompts! kinda low energy today sorry I haven't been posting, xox

[lawrencespen1777]

Caretaker Words

“Stop pushing this off. Something’s really wrong. Trust me.”

“Don’t look at it. What did I just say?”

“You have a fever so I’m going to pretend you did not just say that to me.”

“I need you to stop moving. I know. I’m sorry. But I can’t stitch this up if you keep pulling away.”

“Can you walk?”

“That was a really hard hit. Maybe you should just lay there for a while.”

“You look terrible. How terrible? Terrible enough for them to call me.”

“I’ve got you. You’re okay. It was just a fever dream.”

“It’s not that deep. I’m wrapping it up…ohhh my God…yeah, no, it’s fine. Not that bad.”

“Oh you’re fine? Then why are you slowly tilting.”

[springtyme]

If you’re still looking for Steve requests, would you be willing to write Steve who’s sick asf but later has a date planned with R but when she sees him she obvs takes him home and takes care of him

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 ♡

Steve Harrington x reader || Main masterlist || Steve playlist

summary: Your first date with Steve doesn’t end up going exactly as he had planned.

word count: 2k

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟐) 𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐃𝐚𝐲

“You look like shit,” Robin says deadpanned, her arms crossed as she leans against the counter, her expression half-teasing, half-concerned. 

“Gee, thanks, Rob,”Steve replies, trying to sound normal, but failing miserably as fatigue and hoarseness clings to his voice like a thick fog. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling the heat radiating off his skin. The fluorescent lights in Family Video seem excessively bright today, and every time a customer opens the door, the sound of the bell makes his head throb and the rush of fresh air makes him shiver.

He had woken up feeling like a truck had run him over, his throat scratchy, head pounding, and every bone in his body aching. Had he woken up feeling like this on any other day, he would have called in sick; but if he did that, it would mean actually admitting that he was sick, and then he would have to call you and cancel your date later, which was absolutely out of the question. 

He had worked out the nerve to ask you out for so long that the idea of backing out now makes his stomach twist with anxiety. He doesn’t understand how he did it so easily in high school. Back then, talking to girls felt like second nature to him, but then he grew up, became less of an asshole and the glitz and glamour of ‘King Steve’ and teenage confidence faded into something far more complicated.

It also dosen’t help the one person he’s been crushing on for ages. Your laughter dances in his memory, a melody that both soothes and torments him. You’re smart, kind, and effortlessly cool; the kind of person who lights up a room without even trying.

Robin raises an eyebrow, the look on her face tells Steve that she isn’t convinced. “Seriously, Harrington, you should just call it a day and go home.”

“I’m fine,” he insists, despite the fact that his body is screaming at him to go home and curl up under a mountain of blankets. 

· · · · ·   

You stand in front of the mirror in the staff bathroom of the café, smoothing down the fabric of your outfit as you check your makeup one last time. Your shift ended a little while ago, but Steve is supposed to come by and pick you up soon after his own shift at Family Video. The anticipation of seeing him makes your heart flutter.

You’ve been replaying the moment Steve asked you out in your head—his slight stammer, the way he ran his fingers through his hair, clearly anxious yet hopeful. It was cute. You could still picture the way his eyes lit up when you said yes, how the corner of his mouth twitched into that adorable smile of his, bright and boyish. 

As you stand there putting on a layer of lip gloss, a soft knock on the door breaks you from your reverie. “Hey, I think your date is here!” Lin, your co-worker, call out, her voice laced with light-hearted mischief. You can hear the smile in her tone.

“Thanks, I’ll be right out!” you reply, capping the tube of gloss and throwing it into your purse, taking a final glance in the mirror before you step out of the bathroom.

As you walk into the main café area, your eyes immediately land on Steve. He’s leaning against the counter, one hand fiddling with his keys, his other holding a bouquet of pink lilies that stands out against the muted tones of the café. The sight makes you smile to yourself.

You navigate through the café, a calm kind of excitement bubbling in your stomach. He catches your eye just as you reach him, but as you get closer, your smile falters slightly. You can’t help but notice the slight paleness of his complexion and how the usual brightness of his honey brown eyes is dulled.

“Hey,” you say, trying to mask your concern with a playful tone as you glimpse the flowers. “Are those for me?”

“Uh, yeah,” he stammers, almost sheepish as he offers you the bouquet, “yeah, they are for you.”

You take the flowers, inhaling their sweet fragrance, and your heart swells. “Thank you, they’re beautiful.”

His smile is earnest, but you catch the hint of a wince as he shifts on his feet.

“Of course,” he replies, a little too quickly, and you immediately pick up on the way his voice cracks slightly.

You take a closer look at him, worry settling in your chest like a weight. “Steve, are you okay?”

He chuckles softly, attempting to brush it off. “Yeah… yeah, I’m great.”

You raise an eyebrow, not feeling fully convinced, but you smile as he leads you out of the café and into the mild autumn air. The moment you step outside, the sunset casts a warm golden light, painting the world in hues of orange and pink. But despite the beauty around you, your attention stays focused on him.

As you walk side by side towards his car, a comfortable silence falls between you, but it’s punctured by Steve’s occasional cough, each one making your heart sink a little more. 

“Steve,” you say gently, your voice dropping to a soft, yet serious tone. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

He force a chuckle, his voice raspy and strained. “Yeah… I’m just a little under the weather. It’s nothing, really.” 

You don’t buy it for a second. You know him well enough to see the way his usually bright eyes are glazed over with fatigue. The way he keeps shivering, despite the mild autumn air. You can see the pale cast to his skin and the way his hand shakes as he reaches for the passenger door to let you into his car.  

“Steve, you’re sick,” you state, your tone firm, your hand reaching out to touch his forehead which is warm to the touch. 

He glances away, and you notice how he rubs a hand over his tired eyes as if trying to wipe away the exhaustion. “I didn’t want to cancel on you. I’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

Your heart flutters, but it’s quickly replaced by a surge of protectiveness. You take a step closer, tilting your head slightly to meet his gaze. “Steve, I appreciate that, but I really think you need rest.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but before he can say anything, you interject, “How about this: I take you home, and we can have a cozy night in instead? I can whip up some soup or something.”

The suggestion hangs in the air. You can see the internal struggle on his face—whether he should stick to the plan he’d anticipated or succumb to the reality of how he truly feels. Finally, he nods. “That does sound nice. But can I still take you out on a real date when I’m feeling better?” His voice is barely above a whisper, but the sincerity in his eyes reminds you how much he values your time together.

“Definitely,” you reply, your own smile returning. “Now come on, let’s get you home.” You put out your hand, gesturing for him to hand over his car keys. He hesitates for a moment, looking between you and the keys in his palm, but the warmth in your eyes encourages him. With a resigned sigh, he hands them over.

You slide into the driver’s seat, glancing over at him once you’re both settled in, and your heart squeezes at the sight. He’s leaning back against the headrest, eyelids drooping slightly as he battles against another wave of exhaustion.

“Want me to turn on some music?” you ask, trying to lighten the mood as you pull out of the parking lot.

“Sure, but maybe something a bit soft,” he replies, his voice still strained, though he offers you a small smile. You nod and switch on the radio, letting the soothing melodies fill the car as you drive through the quiet town.

Occasionally, you look over and check on him from the corner of your eye. He’s still pale, and you can see how he shivers slightly in his  seat. Guilt twists in your stomach at the thought that he’d pushed himself just to spend time with you.

The short drive feels like it takes ages, but you finally pull up in front of his house. Steve glances over at you, a hint of reluctance in his gaze. “You don’t...you really don’t have to do this, you know. I can just—”

“Steve, it’s happening. You’re not winning this argument today,” you cut him off playfully, adding a grin to soften your words. He chuckles weakly, appreciating the stubbornness in your tone.

After a second, he nods and climbs out of the car, the effort seeming to cost him. You rush around to help him, looping his arm around your shoulder for support as you lead him inside. Once inside, you help him settle onto the couch, fluffing a few pillows behind his back so he can lean comfortably. “You just sit tight,” you order gently. “I’ll get started on that soup.”

You head to the kitchen, happy to find enough ingredients for a simple chicken noodle. As you chop vegetables and toss everything into the pot, you can’t help but glance back toward the living room now and then.

After a while, the delicious aroma of simmering soup fills the air, a comforting weight that envelops the space. You serve it up in two bowls, bringing them back to the living room.

“Dinner is served,” you announce, adopting a playful tone as you hand him a bowl, the steam swirling up from the broth.

He takes it gratefully, voicing his gratitude before he takes a spoonful of the soup, the tension in his shoulders seems to ease just a bit. You take a seat next to him, and the two of you settle into a comfortable quiet, the sound of spoons clinking against the ceramic filling the space between you.

“See? Not such a bad idea, right?” you say, giving him a gentle smile as his eyes lock with yours. 

“Not at all,” he replies, his mouth curling into a genuine smile that somehow seems to illuminate the weariness in his eyes. “You might just be my new favorite person.”

You roll your eyes playfully, but your heart flutters nonetheless. “Just wait until I force you to watch a rom-com later.”

“Who doesn’t love a rom-com?” he laughs, but it’s cut short by a rough cough that rattles through him. You frown, reaching over to gently place your hand on his forehead again, your palm feeling the rise and fall of his fever.

“You still need to rest,” you remind him softly, and he nods, a hint of vulnerability crossing his features. He takes another sip of soup, his movements slower, as if savoring not just the meal, but the warmth radiating from your presence.

“Thanks for taking care of me,” he murmurs, looking at you with a depth of gratitude that sends your heart racing. “I really didn’t want to let you down.”

“Steve, you could never let me down,” you say earnestly. 

The sincerity in your voice hangs in the air between you, a thread of understanding weaving deeper into the fabric of your relationship. He finishes his soup, and as the bowls lay empty on the coffee table, he leans back a little more against the couch, closing his eyes.

You grab a blanket that is hanging over the armrest of the couch and drape it over the two of you, feeling the warmth radiating from his body touch yours. “I’ll stay here with you,” you whisper, brushing back a strand of hair from his forehead.

“Thank you,” he says with a contented sigh, he nestles in further, his hand finding yours on the couch. And as you sit together, the simplicity of sharing warmth, soup, and presence erases the worry as evening turns into night, the world outside fading away.

[sicktember]

The Official Sicktember 2024 Prompts List

Event FAQ Text Post [Link to Post]

2024 Prompt-Based Resources [Link to Post]

Past Prompts Text Post [Link to Post]

How to Submit Content for promotion [Link to Post]

Sicktember 2024 AO3 Collection [Link]

Announcements [Link to #Event Notice]

** Text Version of the 2024 Prompts Can be Found Below.

“I’m not hungover, I’m just sick” (Or vise versa)

Too Much of a Good Thing/Overindulgence

Campus/Con Crud

“Great. I Got a Cold for My Birthday.”

Rogue Organ (tonsils, spleen, appendix, gall bladder ect…)

Dizziness/Vertigo

Borrowed Hoodie

“The closest doctor is probably hours away from here!”

Overdramatic Patient/Caretaker 

The Sniffles ™ 

Medieval Treatment

“You’re not fine, you’re throwing up/coughing up a lung”

Mononucleosis

Clean Sheets/Fresh Pajamas

"Who decided __ is ‘sick people food?’"

Toxin/Poison

Brain Fog/Spaced Out 

“My body is one big ache”

Hypochondriac Tendencies 

Medication Bribery

Anaphylactic Response

“You didn’t use my cup, did you?”

Under a Spell

 Tales From the Waiting Room

Summer Flu

Heart Condition/Cardiac Arrest

“This is non-negotiable"

Pulling a ‘Ferris Bueller’

Sick on a Road Trip

Past Prompt of Your Choice! 

Alts

Hospital Bed

“I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

First Aid Kit

Flushed Cheeks

Doctor's Note

[featherlovesrobots]

YAY MY ASK WAS ANSWERED!!! thank you!!

aaah Penny as a caretaker ✨✨✨✨ honestly never thought I'd live to see the day

and Emery content too!!! and Esther!! so far I haven't seen much of those two

agh I already love Bonnie and Emery so much. the fact that he sticks with her the whole time and he's the first person she sees when she wakes up. and him trying to get her to eat something. and the BANTER sgmjibnfbin

Bonnie and Penny are super interesting too. Penny especially has already intrigued me with lines like "her annoyance quickly softens when she finds herself having to catch her colleague under the arms as her knees give out"

because in this scene, she COULD have just let her fall (and I wouldn't be surprised if she wanted to, given how apparent her bitterness is) but she catches her and gently sets her down. and at the end it's stated that she asks for a follow-up on how Bonnie's doing afterwards

seems there's more to Penny than meets the eye. looking forward to seeing her in future fics!!

WAIT wait I just saw the tags for your "open for suggestions" message and that sounds AWESOME feel free to disregard my other idea

dude what if Bonnie starts out all dramatic like "it's so hooot" and the others snap at her because it's hard for them too and then she stops complaining even when it gets really serious and then they feel bad for telling her to stop because maybe if they hadn't she'd be able to breathe right now

I don't know if that fits her personality since I haven't done that many deep dives on her yet but it was just something I thought of

I LOVED YOUR OTHER ASK TOO SO I MIGHT USE IT IF YOU DON'T MIND, THANK YOU FOR LIKING MY LADIES!!

i totally love Bonnie starting out whining about the heat on a planet and written off, then the team figuring out that oh wait it's actually serious. thank you so much for this ask and i hope you like this short fic!!

“It’s hot,” Bonnie whines, not for the first time today. 

“Yeah, we know,” Penny snaps. “It’s just as hot over here as it is over there.”

“Are you sure? You’re barely even sweating.” 

“That’s because I didn’t forget to top off my suit’s air system with coolant. Unlike some people.”

“I’m starting to suspect she’s talking about me,” Bonnie whispers to Emery, who snickers. 

“Quit griping, everyone,” Dr. Estrada signs harshly. Bonnie can always tell when she’s mad. Her signs get all crisp and jerky. It’s her version of yelling at them. “We’re almost there. Bonnie, drink some water and let’s get a move on.”

She would if she could, but she ran out an hour ago. In her defense, they’d vastly underestimated how long this mission would be. From their scanners, they couldn’t tell what the surface looked like. What they’d been anticipating being rocky desert had turned out to be thick, dense rainforest. Another huge beetle drops from a tree and plops off the top of her suit, startling her into stumbling. This place sucks. 

“This place sucks,” she complains. It’s taking everything in her not to ask how much longer they might have to walk, only abstaining because it will probably read as “are we there yet?” and she already has enough difficulty being taken seriously because of her age; so she’s not about to be that petulant.  

Though they might not have much further to go in distance alone, they keep stopping for samples of soil and rocks and plant life. Logically, she knows that they have to do this. They’re a research ship, after all, and the only reason they’re out here at all is to collect field samples, but it doesn’t mean she’s not bitter about it. How many fern clippings can Penny really analyze, and why is she cutting them so carefully and individually? 

“If you’re really that miserable, I’m sure the ship will come get you.” Rhett’s words are pragmatic but his tone is condescending. She’d never do that, not in a million years. She shakes her head in an attempt to restore her energy levels and wake up a little, but it only succeeds in making herself dizzy, and she stumbles into the trunk of a tree. 

“Maybe it’s best to rest here for a little while,” Dr. Estrada caves. “Cool off for a moment.” She doesn’t know if Dr. Estrada means that literally or figuratively. 

“I’m fine,” she tries to protest, but once Dr. Estrada sets her mind to something, it’s impossible to veer off the course. Everyone else looks peeved. In truth, they haven’t been walking for that long. It’s just so unbearably hot and humid that it feels like it’s been hours. 

Everyone pulls out the sandwiches they’ve packed for lunch except for Bonnie, who opts instead to lean against a rock and shut her eyes. 

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Emery asks. She shakes her head. 

“Feeling a little nauseated. I’d rather just take a quick nap to recharge.” 

“Are you sure? You should probably get something in your stomach.” 

“I can eat and walk,” she lies. She can’t multitask like that for shit. She shuts her eyes again. Maybe sleeping will help her forget about how hot she is. 

It does not. In fact, she might wake up feeling worse, if that’s possible. Heat is swirling between her chest and her chin, the hot air trapped with nowhere to escape from but her collar. Emery is shaking her shoulder and calling her name, his expression worried and nervous. 

“I’m up,” she says, but the fear doesn’t leave him. 

“Are you okay? It was kinda hard to wake you up.” 

“Just really hot,” she says honestly. That’s what’s at the root of all the other symptoms she’s experiencing, after all. The pounding headache, the nausea, the exhaustion. 

“Are you sure you don’t need to go back to the ship? I’m sure we could—” 

“Not a chance,” she curtails. “I’m fine. Let’s just keep going.” 

Though he doesn’t look convinced, the rest of the lab personnel are packing up their lunches, so she sits up and stretches with a groan. Even her bones are hot. 

It’s not terribly much longer that she’s able to maintain that pace. Once again, she begins to slow, much to the dismay of the others who have to match her pace, then to stumble, then finally trips forward, barely even able to register what’s in front of her. 

“Ow, hey!” Penny exclaims, but her annoyance quickly softens when she finds herself having to catch her colleague under the arms as her knees give out. Everything is spinning, and for the first time in hours, she’s not hot anymore—she’s shivering. “Bonnie? What’s wrong?” 

“Don’t feel good,” she manages to slur. Rhett steps in to help ease her to the ground, where Dr. Estrada motions for them to check her vitals on her watch for her temperature. 

“Oh, god,” Penny practically whispers. “She’s cooking. 40 degrees.” 

Dr. Estrada nods. “I’ll call the ship for emergency rescue,” she signs. “Try to keep her awake.” 

“Bonnie,” Penny calls obediently, “don’t do this. I know you can hear me.” To her credit, she does manage to open her eyes for a moment, even if they’re rolling around a bit. She groans. 

“Freezing,” she complains, which scares Penny, because it’s still hot as hell outside. Dr. Estrada hands over her own water bottle. It’s only half full, but anything helps. When Rhett sits her upright, her stomach lurches, but she manages to keep the nausea pushed down well enough to avoid adding that humiliation to an already terrible situation. 

“I spy,” Penny starts, “something purple.” Bonnie blinks a few times to be sure she’s actually present, hearing correctly. Is Penny playing a game with her? “Come on,” she says impatiently, “start looking.” 

As directed, Bonnie scans the landscape, but it’s hard to focus when she feels so hot and cold and sick. 

“I don’t think that’s helping,” Emery says, but Penny’s gaze doesn’t waver. She expects an answer, and she’s going to get one. 

“Bush berry,” she finally manages, her tongue fumbling over the words so badly that she has to repeat them. “There.” Penny follows her gaze, then rolls her eyes. 

“You think I’d be that obvious? Try again.” 

She’s not sure whether she’s lying just to keep her engaged, but she does. She tries again. Penny doesn’t have any sympathy for her when she starts to fade in and out of consciousness again. When she wakes, it’s always to an impatient older colleague who hates her, but for some reason, is now trying desperately to keep her conscious until the ship arrives. 

“Hey,” she says at her gentlest point while the fading consciousness starts to really freak Bonnie out. Penny takes her hand. “You’re fine. Stop being a bitch.” 

That’s the last thing she hears before she falls asleep once more and doesn’t wake until she’s in the med bay on the ship, with only Emery by her side. Penny won’t so much as visit, but the next time they work together on shift, she’ll utter a simple, “better now?” that will at least whisper the suggestion that she cares. Bonnie can’t know for sure, but even if she has to cling to little gestures like that, she’ll do so. Anything to think that perhaps things could get better, that some day, they could like her. 

For now, what she does is tinker away with measurements on her tablet from bed so she can be ahead of her deadlines when she’s released. Like she always is. 

[delusionisaplace]

idk if you still take requests buuuut…. could you do prompts for characters taking care of each other while sick / depressed? thank youu (also I love your writing)

ofc and thank you for the compliment i really appreciate it :)))

"𝙞'𝙢 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚…" 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙨

have fun with these :) | tag me if you use any | if yall want more prompts like this, jus drop an ask

“You’re burning up…”

“I’m right here if you need anything, okay?”

“I’m fine.” “You’re not ‘fine’.”

“Is there anything I can get you?”

“Stop, let me do it.”

“Let me help you.”

“How do you feel?”

“Should I get you some water?”

“Try to eat something. Anything.”

“I don’t care if I get sick too.”

“Are you dizzy?”

“It’s fine; I can handle a few germs.”

“I’ll make you something to eat, alright?”

“I’m not going to leave you here like this.”

“I’ll go draw you a bath.”

“I’ll get you some medicine.”

“Do you want food, water or some ice?”

“Call me if you need anything.”

“I got you, okay?”

“Just sleep. I’m here for you.”

“Why are you acting like everything is fine?”

“Hey, are you still with me?”

“I’ll hold your hair if you need me to.”

“Do you want me to help you eat?”

“I’ll carry you to bathroom, okay?”

“I called out sick for you.”

"Remember to take your medicine on time, alright?"

"I can run to the pharmacy if you need anything."

"Tell me if the room is too bright or too cold."

“I’ll stay with you until you feel better.”

"I won't leave your side until you're better, promise."

"Don't tough it out; let me take care of you."

[simp-ly-writes]

In Sickness and in Health

─────── · · How Could You Refuse? (pt.11)

Pairing: Jayce Talis x Shy!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You and Jayce buy a house together, settle into your new lives in Piltover, and discuss having kids all the while planning a wedding only for Jayce to become sick... you both hope he'll be well in time enough for the ceremony but then again, nothing is going to stop Jayce from marrying you, nothing.

─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, partial sickfic, teasing, pet names, sickly sweet fluff (no but seriously), some emotional hurt/comfort (more like reassurances), kissing, suggestive themes, Evren (OC) , a very sad Jayce, marriage worries, wedding scene, HIGHLY suggestive themes, reader is mentioned to have hair and is shorter than Jayce, not beta read.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 11,698

─ · · SERIES MASTERLIST

─ · · A/N: first post of 2025!- thank you all for sticking with me 🥹💞 I tried to keep wedding details as vague as possible and I may of have may not cried as much as Jayce did while writing the ceremony... ANYWAYS enjoy~

─────── · ·

─ · · From the brief that Jayce gave you before the train stopped in Piltover never would have prepared you for this... looking outside the window you saw a sea of people barley being held in by the barricades that Enforcers were struggling to hold up against the crowd.

Screams and shouts were muffled for now as you smoothed out your matching green dress to Jayce's shirt, the public relations team stated that your first sighting back in the city should show you two as a unit. You both would be the last to leave and as the minutes ticked by your anxiety grew tenfold as you paced up and down the carriage, heels clacking against the wood listening to Jayce who was nearly shouting to communicate with the head enforcer for your plan to exit.

"I have a meeting with the council in half and hour, at most we can stand for pictures for ten minutes before I need to head to city hall, my wife and mother go to Talis house, am I understood?" Jayce's tone is stern, stress eating at his tight features.

"Sir yes sir," the enforcer shouts, stomping their foot to the ground and dropping the salute before swiftly exiting, cheers sounding at the brief sight of the hammer emblem on Jayce's sleeve as the door closes.

You don't even notice Jayce's slip up of your title in your stress as your nails dig into your palms. Ximena suddenly grabs your arm, you flinch before letting out a breath seeing her worried face. Bending down you allow her to hold your face, "We'll be here the whole time, I promise. Nothings going to happen to you," she tries to comfort you. You nod, squeezing your eyes shut in a silent prayer before standing to full height.

You hear Jayce's boots echoing down the hall, looking up to see him fix his hair before planting a kiss against your temple, "I'll exit first and lead you both out. Caitlyn is waiting to take you both home." You nod while fixing the collar to his shirt and smoothing out the wrinkles across his chest.

Jayce places his hands atop yours, "We don't have to say anything yet, they're not a part of this relationship," he reassures you. "Okay," you whisper feeling as he slowly lets go, your hands falling back to your side as you slip on the gloves Ximena presented to you.

You hear as the door opens watching as he waves to the crowd listening to their deafening cheers before turning around and looking at you, extending his hand and helping you down the steps before helping his mother.

An enforcer rushes over to Ximena's side, presenting an arm as she is first to leave. You watch until seeing familiar blue hair lead her into a carriage sending you a nod as you turn to look up at Jayce finding him already looking down at you with a smile.

You wrap your hand around his right arm on instinct, holding on with a near deathly grip, concealing your ring. You slowly turn to face forwards holding a small smile. You are shocked that after such a cataclysmic event Piltover seemed to be doing better than ever and that a few members of Zaun were also waving at you excitedly as you hesitantly waved back receiving a waterfall of cheers before hiding your face in Jayce's side feeling overwhelmed.

"They seem to love you as much as I do," Jayce teases.

You scoff at the comment before you both start to walking over to Caitlyn who was now joined by Vi. You smile at both women as they mirror your expression, "Good to see you back, Mrs. Talis," Caitlyn jokes as Vi wraps an arm around her shoulder.

Shaking your head you tap Jayce's chest, "not just yet but soon," you say. Jayce grumbles underneath his breath before squeezing your hand in goodbye and walking off with an entourage of staff and guards alike.

You all step into the carriage where Ximena waits, patting the seat beside her for you to sit. You lean back, letting your shoulders drop with a sigh listening to Caitlyn chuckle at you, "It'll get easier," she taps your knee before leaning against Vi's side.

"I never got a chance to thank you for saving my life," you look towards the red haired woman with large watery eyes. "Gosh don't give me that look, you're as worse as Jayce," she scoffs before shaking your hand, "I should thank you too."

"Whatever for?" you ask, confusion evident across your features and tilted head. You watch as the couple before you laughs, "you don't know?" You shake your head, turning to Ximena who is busy looking out the window mindlessly.

"For being the reason this city could rebuild; giving the people hope. Jayce did a whole speech for the local media awhile back petitioning for a spot back on the council- wanting to rebuild Piltover and he addressed you and your love as the sole reason the city still stands today." You open and close your mouth, eyebrows furrowing before crossing your legs and thinking quietly to yourself before remembering Viktor's words...

"Was a bit too sweet of a speech for my likings but it did wonders for his approval ratings," Vi jokes.

─────── · ·

─ · · A few weeks after settling back in, you and Jayce planned to move north in Piltover into a new house together within Bluewind Court a few doors down from the Kiramman household.

─ · · You and Jayce were both not huge fans of marble facades common in the area, instead taking to one of the oldest homes that had been sitting on the market for awhile and in dire need of repair.

─ · · You remember your first time viewing the outside of the house- built from brick holding large stone-framed windows. The roof was a partially black shingles yet newer additions were done with copper plates, some oxidized to a green others still sprouting orange. A large sunroom wrapped around the side and towards the back of the home and you equally fell in love with the stained glass dormers that invited light into the attic space.

─ · · Jayce watched as you walked around the house, letting go of his hand as you adventured into each room, observing the original hardwood floors and mosaic bathroom floors- gasping at all the intricate details in the brass handles of the kitchen and the large willow tree in the backyard.

─ · · The real estate agent smiled at the councillor adoring look as you found the secret entrance to the office and basement through a bookshelf, looking back at Jayce, biting your lip trying to conceal your giggles of excitement, practically jumping on the spot before darting off again. "Your wife is very cute, Councillor Talis," they say to Jayce, "she is, isn't she?" he hums before walking after you.

"You like the place, sweetheart?" he asks watching as you take a seat in a bay window within the study space, already picturing looking over from his desk seeing you reading. You nod, leaning back against the wall and looking out the window to look over Piltover. "I really like this place, Jayce. Feels like we can make it into something for just the two of us," you speak softly, thinking for a moment before standing and leading him out, "come, I want to show you something."

Jayce follows you upstairs as you push a door open to a room that faces the backyard. A mural is on the ceiling depicting the night sky that you move to stand in the middle of, "its a nursery, Jayce! Isn't the ceiling just outstanding," you point up, eyes becoming lost in the stars that reflect in your eyes and in Jayce's as he stares at you, heart racing, breath hitching, a nursery.

He feels stunned to his spot, unsure of weather or not to take your words on face value as images of that little girl sitting in your arms flickers across his mind. He would never want to pressure you into anything- no matter how much his heart longed to be a father. To raise someone with you to be curious of the world, to provide unconditional love and protection, to watch their interests develop and see the person they become.

Jayce clasps his shaking hands together, suddenly nervous as you turn your head towards him, smile slowly sliding off our face once seeing Jayce's still frame. You walk over slightly, opening his hands to hold in your own, "everything alright, my love?" you ask, looking up to your fiancee with worry.

Jayce smile wavers as he blinks a few times, letting out a deep breath, "yeah... I just... I would like... never mind." He removes one of his hand from your hand to cup your cheek as you lean into his palm. "take your time," you whisper, waiting patiently in his hold, watching his eyes stare over the room before looking down at you.

"I know we talked about this briefly before but... I would really like to have a family one day but I am perfectly happy with just having you," Jayce explains- words rushing out near the end as he stops breathing in wait. You stand up on your toes, pressing a kiss to his lips, "I want one too, Jayce. Just not yet," you reply watching as Jayce lets out a long breath, placing his forehead against your own, closing his eyes and holding you for a moment.

"Girl or boy?" you whisper with a smile to your words, "girl," Jayce responds almost instantly as you pull away laughing, "but I would love a boy just the same."

"Why a girl?" you ask, spinning around the room absent-mindedly.

"I would like to play dress-up with them," you laugh, heart overfilling with want for the imagine within your head to come to life, "princess Jayce," you announce to Jayce's nod, "I think I would look good in some nail polish, no?"

You nod your head, "I think it would suit you actually," you pick up his hand- considering colours, "I could see you in blue oh! or maybe red to match your house-"

"Our house and our home," Jayce squeezes your hand, "yeah?" you ask, looking up into his eyes and around the space again, "yeah," he confirms hearing you cheer and run down the stairs back towards the agent.

─────── · ·

─ · · From selling your apartments, temporarily moving into the Talis residence and planning a wedding. You hated how correct Evren's words were as you didn't have time to find a job between helping Jayce with his work and attending the various events at his side, checking in on the house renovations and crew all the while editing your personal studies since Jayce had reopened the lab for you... life was chaos spreading yours and Jayce's time together thin.

─ · · Jayce always made sure to send you flowers to the lab as you made sure to stick messages within his notebooks on scrap pieces of papers or on the back of a letter to find later. You always made sure to include a picture of how the house was progressing.

─ · · Jayce had a picture of you in a hardhat posing on the front steps of the house framed in his office that he would often look at between meetings. He also received many letters of thanks from the workers for providing refreshments and lunch that on the books he thought was for the wedding. When asking you about it later you just smiled and kissed him, assuring that the house would be done two weeks before the wedding.

─ · · On his breaks, you would come into Jayce's office to eat with him when your schedules alined and discussed wedding details. Surprisingly Jayce had many opinions that you throughly enjoyed hearing and agreed with. One being having your wedding partially indoors in case the weather didn't align with the ceremony. You both also wanted a relatively small wedding with close friends and family... the members of the Council invited themselves no matter how many times Jayce politely denied.

─ · · "I would want pictures of my family and Viktor in the front row... want to feel like they're there, you know?" you tell Jayce, taking a sip from your tea. Jayce nods, "I would also like one for Professor Heimerdinger."

"Of course," you jot the names down, circling the word photo about the list. "Do you have your dress picked out?" Jayce asks, eyes twinkling with excitement as he tries to picture what you chose. You play with the tea leaves at the bottom of your cup, "I'm torn between two and Evren and Ximena are also at split opinions."

"Why not just get both?" Jayce fills your cup back up before offering his hand for you to hold on top of the table, "you can wear one for the ceremony and the other for the reception," he explains. You stare at him for a moment, contemplating his suggestion, "but its two dresses, Jayce. Seems a bit excessive- no?"

Jayce leans forwards on the table looking at you, "sweetheart, its our wedding-"

"I know, Jayce, I know but we already put so much towards the house and I don't want to seem like we're showing off," you cut Jayce off, squeezing his hand in a silent apology.

"(name), compared to all of our neighbours and for topside society; Our wedding is already small in comparison. I don't think anyone is going to be upset that you wore two dresses while others invite over 500 people," Jayce explains, "I just want the day to be something that celebrates us, everything we've been through, and our future and if you want to get married in two dresses or a bathrobe and bare foot- I just care about signing that certificate and carrying you home."

"Carry me home?" you question, writing down in your notebook to get both dresses fitted at the tailors later this week. Jayce smiles brightly, "a Talis and lower houses special," he winks, "once the party's over, I can't let your feet touch the floor until we're home or... until we're in bed." You look up from your notes quickly, cheeks slowly warming, "you never told me of that tradition."

Jayce merely shrugs, taking a sip from his cup, "we're not an original high society clan. Not exactly an appropriate thing to bring up," he teases watching as you refuse to make eye-contact, cursing yourself internally for the images popping into your head of Jayce flipping up your skirt, feeling him breath hot against your inner thighs that you currently clench together- fuck.

You both hadn't had time to be intimate recently but then again, you both knew that the wait would make your wedding night feel that much more amplified. Your eyes flicker open once feeling Jayce's hands rub up and down your shaking thighs as he crouches before you- eyes filled with longing and a hint of guilt.

"I know, sweetheart. I want it too but we have to be patient. Just a couple more weeks, right? Then we have a full two all to ourselves." You lean forwards, embarrassed by how emotional you feel over such a thing as you nod into his shoulder, "just miss you, Jay. Even just spending time with you and hearing your voice."

Jayce kisses the side of your head, "miss you too, darling. So much so it hurts at times." You both stay there for a moment before a knock sounds at the door, slowly pulling away to the muffled voice, 'Councillor Talis, the senator from Demacia is here to speak with you.'

"Duty calls?" you tease, Jayce groans standing and walking you to the door, opening it before pressing you against the oak for a kiss. You smile into his lips before pulling away, "see you at home, Mr. Talis."

Jayce shakes his head, stealing another kiss, "see you then, Mrs. Talis-to-be."

─────── · ·

─ · · It was one week before the wedding, you both had fully moved into the new completed house with what furniture you both had - not having time to properly decorate just yet. Your dresses were currently being housed in Evren's hotel room who swore he would protect them both 'with his life' as you were nervous for Jayce accidentally seeing anything.

─ · · You and Jayce went to choose cake flavours last weekend deciding to have tiers of your favourite flavours, collected the dried flower petals to be thrown at the end of the ceremony, and finalized the menu with recipes from both of your families heritages.

─ · · Your home and entryway was starting to look like a factory by the dozens of boxes and supplies you both had ordered lined the halls and dining room. Candles, new silverware and glassware that you would use later in your new house, all of the gifts for the guests and thankfully Jayce's suit had arrived on time yet you couldn't find your shoes anywhere.

─ · · Pacing around the house, Ximena was helping to rip open boxes searching for the shoes for both you and Jayce. "I know we still have time but I want our outfits to be all together in one place so we're not stressing about it on the day," you explain, placing your head inside one of the boxes as you reach down and can only feel more cards and napkins. You huff, standing up and walking back into a warm chest as arms wrap around your waist, something hits your hip lightly that has you looking down to see your shoes dangling from Jayce's fingers and you can see him already wearing his dress shoes checking that they fit right.

"Looking for these ones?" he asks quietly, feeling as his beard rubs against your cheek. "Yes, thank you, my love," you say, wiggling out of his arms and racing over to a chair to try them on. Jayce helps you to stand before watching you walk up and down the hall testing before nodding and slipping them off again, placing them by the front door.

"Off work early?" you call out to Jayce. "Have a meeting tonight so I can't come for dinner but I wanted to see you both today," Jayce explains as you re-enter the room with a small frown, "5 more days and then I'm all yours," Jayce reassures you again before coughing and clearing his throat.

You raise your brow in concern, starting to walk over as Jayce taps his chest, "I'm fine, just working through a little something." You shake your head, "Jayce, I told you to take more breaks ahead of the wedding you can't- we can't be getting sick with everyone already taking time off for the ceremony," you grumble, standing up on your toes to feel his warm head- eyes softening from your original upset to one of concern.

"I'll be better for the wedding, I assure you just-" Jayce coughs again, waving his hand for you to stand back a little but you just rub his back, leading him to sit as Ximena comes over with a pot of tea and jar of honey. "I don't want you sick, sweetheart," Jayce's voice is beginning to sound horse before taking a sip of the hot liquid, resting his head back against the chair as you interlace your fingers, placing a kiss on the back of his hand.

"Then we'll be sick during our wedding together Jayce," you retort. "Now I'm going to write to whomever you have that meeting with and send someone else from the council to it- alright? They shouldn't have you working like this so close to your own wedding, its distasteful," you state, walking over to his briefcase and sorting through the various pages before clicking on a pen with a huff.

Jayce opens and closes his mouth, beginning to protest before his mother shoes another tea cup in front of his face with a glare, "you are not marrying that woman sick, Jayce. I will not allow it- she deserves a healthy husband that does not faint on her while walking down the aisle."

You smile listening to Ximena tell Jayce off for you while signing your signature at the bottom of the page, possibly the last official uses of your original signature before changing to the Talis seal. You ring the Kiramman household requesting for Caitlyn's father as Jayce watches you work with utter determination in your eyes and tone as you grip the sealed letter, smiling with success when he reports a staff member will be over shortly to collect the papers.

Turning back around you and Ximena share a nod before looking towards Jayce, "I don't want to see you off the property until its either the wedding or you're healthy," you state, leaning up against the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest.

Jayce stares at you for a moment a smile spreading across his face as you tilt yourself upstairs. "I made a room for you upstairs in the guest wing, Ximena," you explain as Jayce stand moving towards you excited to cuddle. Ximena looks at you both smiling, "I'll have breakfast ready in the morning with some fresh juice for him."

You shake your head, "Ximena- I can do that you-" Its her turn to be exchanging a glare, "no. Give this old lady something to do, I am bored out of my mind back at home with everyone doing everything for me all the time, let me do this for you."

"Alright," you nod your head as she waves you both up, cleaning up the dish ware and heading to the kitchen, humming to her victory.

─────── · ·

─ · · In the following days you and Jayce read side by side in the study, took naps in the afternoon and Ximena had even taught you the family soup recipe that you had perfected by the second day.

─ · · You had gone to the local pharmacist for medication that Jayce had to take with food and you were always making sure he took them on the minute you timed in between doses and packing and wrapping gifts for your guests. Jayce was looking better with proper rest as the days counted down.

─ · · After awhile Jayce started to become restless wallowing around inside as you both took walks around the backyard and when that got repetitive you turned to through the neighbourhood. You couldn't keep the smile off your face while walking arm and arm down the cobbled streets listening to Jayce hum quietly on your way to the farmers market to choose the flowers for your bouquet.

Jayce pointed out to various flowers that matched with your original picks and you were delighted to see a handful of flowers from Evren's homeland that you quickly added to your order. By the end you had a mix-up of flowers that represented different regions and times of your life. You held the batch for flowers close to your face being sneezing, Jayce laughed until he coughed, "at this rate we'll have the guests seven feet away from us," and you can't help but join in the laughter even when you both are getting stares.

─ · · Laying in bed later that day you traced patterns across Jayce's chest as you both leaned against the headboard, a record played in the background as rain pattered against the glass panes outside. "It's good that it's raining now," you comment softly, pressing your head to Jayce shoulder, putting his touch to memory knowing that tomorrow you wouldn't see him ahead of the wedding.

"You seem extra snuggly tonight, sweetheart," Jayce teases feeling as you shuffle underneath his arm, pulling it closer to your chest, "Well we're not going to see each other in the morning, my love," you mumble now sitting yourself into his lap being mindful of his weak leg. Jayce chuckles at your actions before freezing once his brain registers your words.

"Jay?" you call out quietly, tipping your head up to kiss his chin. Jayce does not say a word, confusion evident on his features as he sags forwards resting his head atop of yours with a pout, "Well at least I'll see you in the evening right?" Your heart drops at his saddened tone as you play with his fingers, interlacing them with your own.

"Its bad luck for us to see one another, we also shouldn't be here now like this," you chuckle feeling as Jayce squeezes you for a moment and lets out a grunt, "we don't need luck. Never helped us before and we are well beyond traditional," Jayce sasses back.

"I think fucking your assistant is traditional, I have no idea what you mean, Councillor Talis," you joke, smiling at Jayce's deep chuckle before you pick up your hands, planting a kiss to the connection, "you can last a night Jay. You said it yourself, patience. We have the rest of our lives to sit like this in bed until we turn grey and old. Enjoy your last night being unmarried. Evren and my university friends already have our day planned out at a winery," you say, closing your eyes as you lean your head back on his chest.

Jayce rolls his eyes, "I never wanted to be single in the over ten years of knowing you and I enjoy being with you more than anything else," Jayce murmurs into your hair, "I would pause time in this moment and be perfectly happy for eternity." You squeeze your eyes shut, heart hammering in your chest at his words as you feel his beat against your back in tune.

"See what Caitlyn and Vi are up to, I'm sure they would be more than willing to come over or go out for some drinks with you," you mumble, quickly falling asleep in Jayce's warmth.

Jayce stays awake, watching you sleep before looking out the window- frowning. He feels as you shuffle and stir within his hold, hugging his arm tightly, genuinely and utterly devastated that there would be one last night in his life where the bed would be cold and empty when he awoke.

Leaning down Jayce presses a kiss to your head before gently pulling your hold off of him so that you both can lay down properly. You quickly search the covers for him before wrapping your arm over his waist. Jayce squeezes his eyes shut at your touch but is restless to sleep, taking to holding you and playing with the ends of your hair absent-mindedly, praying that the night feels longer than the morning.

─────── · ·

─ · · Jayce didn't know when he fell asleep in the early morning hours but was startled awake at the sound of Caitlyn and Vi bursting into the main bedroom. Jayce started blankly at the two women that smiled and waved at him before Jayce fell back into bed with a huff. Vi stepped into your combined walk-in-closet letting out a low whistle, "Cait look at these two- prepared for every occasion underneath the sun and below the surface."

Caitlyn steps him, nodding and observing the space, picking up random articles to feel the material as Vi takes notes of what she takes interest in before stepping back out throwing a t-shirt Jayce's way, "Put this on and get off your mopey-ass outta bed, we're going out!"

Jayce grips the fabric in a fist, bringing his other hand up to his face pinching his nose. "Were her friends there to meet her?" Jayce asks while staring up at the ceiling. Caitlyn continues to snoop around the space before feeling Jayce's glare when she picks up one of your perfumes that he gifted you for your anniversary that she slowly puts back down.

"Yes everyone was there," Caitlyn explains, "enforcers are in the area and she said she'll sleep at your mothers house and get ready in Evren's hotel room thats close to the venue while he'll come here." Jayce nods before picking himself up and stretching, walking over to the bathroom and shutting the door.

Vi and Caitlyn share a look between one another once hearing the shower turn on, "shouldn't he be more... I don't know... excited?" Vi mumbles to Caitlyn's shrug, "beats me, maybe they fought last night-who knows?- lets just make sure he feels a bit better before tomorrow."

Vi wraps an arm around Caitlyn's waist before turning them both down the hall to explore the rest of the house. "You ever imagine Jayce getting married one day?" Vi asks, opening a door and peaking into the nursery, raising a brow in shock to Caitlyn who smiles at the space.

"Jayce? He was ready to get married at twelve, played wedding in the school yard," Caitlyn laughs, shaking her head at the images Ximena showed her floating through her mind. Vi raises her brows, blinking her eyes wide, "Gods you topside kids played the weirdest things, cupcake."

"Mhmm, sure our things were 'weird,'" Caitlyn teases, pressing a kiss to Vi's cheek before shutting the door and peaking into the next room to see another bedroom, your study, and bathroom. Jayce clears his throat watching as both women freeze.

"You did well, Jayce," Caitlyn says, looking at all the original fixtures and hardwood floors, "feels very... homely and welcoming."

"My wife, fiancee, oversaw most of the houses renovations," Jayce explains before tipping his head back downstairs as they follow after and into the kitchen watching as Jayce pours two coffee's into your respective mugs you've had since your lab days.

Caitlyn smiles awkwardly as Jayce takes his mug clinks it against your own, sipping his quietly while looking over the backyard and checking his watch occasionally. "Gods this is hard to watch," Vi groans, pouring herself a cup of coffee and slapping Jayce's back, "get it together man. She's not going to leave you for any of her friends, not after the shit you've pulled over the years, Mr. 'where's-my-girl?'" Vi flexes listening to Cait's laugh echo the space as she steals a sip from her girlfriends mug before forcing it down.

"You drink this, black?" her nose crinkle's up in disgust. "Theres creamer, milk, and milk alternative, in the fridge and honey in the pantry room," Jayce explains while looking over his shoulder as the couple shares small smiles at one another, disregarding Vi's earlier teasing- he just misses your quiet morning together too much to care.

He stares at the countertop he stands in front of. You spent every morning sitting there soaking up the rising suns rays with an adorable smile on your face as your feet swung back in fort before wrapping around the back of his thighs, pulling him closer to you.

Jayce would kiss every feature of your face slowly before kissing across your jaw to your lips. Your giggles in his ear as his beard would tickle your skin. "Jayce," Caitlyn calls out softly, seeing as his stare hardens against the countertop, "did something happen last night?"

He shakes his head, "no... I just miss her. Really want to see her... just to know she's doing good..." Caitlyn's smile falls seeing as Jayce wallows around the kitchen. "I'm sure she misses you too, Jayce. You'll both see each other tomorrow."

Jayce shakes his head, "what if she realizes she can find someone better than me? She reassures me but... I mean... you said it yourself back then..."

"Don't say that shit, Jayce. I swear sometimes your genius has an expiration date," Caitlyn stops her foot, gripping Jayce's arm so that he looks at her sharpened look- eyes welling with concern and care, "she chose you for some reason or another that I'm sure she's told you at some point and was even crazy enough to say yes to your proposal. I don't know how much more certain you can get."

"What Cait said!" Vi yells tearing up the pantry as Jayce holds the blue-haired woman's stare for a long moment before letting out a long sigh. "Just need to see her, hear her say yes, but thanks for trying to comfort me," Jayce says turning back down the hall and turning into the study.

Vi points over in shock to the secret door, "we have to get one of those in our own place." Caitlyn nods, staring sadly at the bookshelves, "mind getting a bottle or two? I think we're staying in tonight." Vi obliges.

─────── · ·

─ · · Before Evren had arrived for you to introduce him to all of your prior peers and mentors you were wallowing on a picnic blanket in the middle of rows upon rows of grapes. A large sun-umbrella protected your skin from behind you as you picked at the selection of food while listening to everyone chat away and catch-up.

Your heart hurt not knowing how Jayce was doing today after how last night went. You felt overwhelmingly guilty the longer you sat outside without him, wondering if Caitlyn and Vi managed to get to him... "Is that a frown I see, miss?" Evren shouts as you stand, a smile starting to form on your features as he kisses your cheeks swiftly before shaking all of your friends hands.

"Everyone, Evren- Evren, Everyone," raising a glass and everyone takes a sip. "Now I want to know, has she been frowning this whole time?" A chorus of 'yes's' sound from the group that has you glaring at everyones laughs.

"No frowning!" Evren flicks your forehead, "You should not be frowning when you are about to get married-"

"You're divorced, Evren," you deadpan.

"Well that is true but I was happy when it happened, not what came afterwards," you roll your eyes, giving him a shove watching as he stumbles back slightly before taking a seat and conversation resumes. Evren makes it his personal job to make sure you are smiling or well too embarrassed while reconnecting with your friends to think as they all tell him stories about seeing you and Jayce in the halls together and the small moments you shared throughout the years before getting together.

"When she told he they were not dating the entire time I nearly had a fit," Jayce's old secretary laughs, gripping your arm as you groan and shake your head, a smile catching onto your features before your cheeks flare up at the next comment, "and the longing in their eyes was so pathetic. Everyone knew, or well, everyone in our department knew that they were going to fuck one day or another."

Your past dorm mate while studying at the academy pipes up, raising their hand to speak next as everyone looks anxious to hear, you as well, "poor thing didn't speak for weeks after watching Jayce for the first time in the forge!"

"Really now?" Evren asks, adjusting his glasses as he stares you down with a teasing grin. "I was incredibly shy then," you hide your face in your hands, before leaning forwards into your lap groaning at your next friends story, "The amount of times I would see her practically in his lap or those dangerously close cheek kisses I would catch them giving was hilarious and equally pathetic. Sometimes I just wanted to shove them both into a closet and shout 'figure it out' for god-sakes!"

"That bad?" you wince, your friend stares at you blankly, "he allowed you- constantly reminded actually, to drop titles even at corporate events. I mean you didn't catch him calling me sweetheart and rubbing my waist with reassurance." You look at Evren for support who just downs the rest of his drink, "You never told me of these things!" he comments to your glare before laughing at everyones impressions as they stand and preform.

"Oh Jayce! I'm so nervous let me hide my face into you bicep-"

"Can you do my tie while I stare at your lips?"

"I'm going to practically wag my tail every time someone brings up you in conversation and then ramble about how much I adore you."

"Sweetheart, come here, Sweetheart, what do you think? Sweetheart, don't look at Viktor- look at me! Sweetheart?- Wait thats not your name?"

"Let me just swing around a big hammer while having the biggest glow up- kissing you senseless and then carry you home," your laughter soon turns to a face of horror, "you guys know about that," you whine feeling a few shoulder pats- accepting your fate before reaching over to grab some more grapes to snack on- nearly choking as you hear your past neighbour whisper, "good girl," before turning away giggling as you squirm in your spot silently screaming.

"How do you know that?!" Feeling the curious eyes at your sudden outburst watching as they smile, "you and Jayce are not exactly... quiet."

"This stays between us," you glare watching as they nod, "I promise." They reassure you, "I just had to say it at least once," they giggle as you roll your eyes understanding with a sigh.

"What did they say?" Evren asks, holding up your glass in a silent ask if you wanted a refill which you nod to. "Nothing just an inside joke," you say. Evren shrugs, clicking your glasses together before leaning back and talking with Jayce's old secretary.

You raise a brow at the connection they seem to be forming before casting Evren a wink in which he flips you off.

─────── · ·

─ · · The day of the wedding had arrived and you woke up bright and early taking some hang-over relief composite before kicking Evren out of his room and sending him to your house to help Jayce get ready.

─ · · A team had already come in to do your hair and make up after you had bathed and ate. Ximena joined you later that morning after checking on Jayce. She smiled watching you spin around in your final look before the ceremony; fighting off tears.

"He's really nervous, Vi and Caitlyn couldn't calm him down much yesterday," Jayce's mom explains taking your hand gently- making sure to not ruin your look in anyway, "he was beside himself again this morning just asking to see you. I watched as he poured your coffee and sat there in his suit playing with the wedding band-I almost agreed to let him come," she shakes her head at the idea as you smile softly, eyes starting to well up as she curses slightly underneath her breath, quickly standing and grabbing you tissues.

"Oh, I'm sorry for making you cry, dear. I'll stop talking-" you shake your head, "No, no. It feels relieving that he feels the same way I do, us suffering together like usual," you joke through a sob before telling yourself to get it together, I'll see him in 3 hours, I can last... right?

─ · · Ximena leaves to get herself ready as you look through the rather scandalous photos you took of yourself that your bridesmaids would be handing to Jayce throughout the night in an effort to cheer yourself up. You remember telling Evren of your wicked plan as he cackled and clapped his hands excited to witness you enact your revenge on your husband-to-be for all of his teasing.

─ · · Your bridesmaids all stumbled into the room as you smiled and waved to them all, spinning as they whistled. "Thank you all for staying with me and dealing with my life," you address the group before being forced into a group hug. "But I do need your help with one thing..." Everyone looks between each other with a smirk wanting to see Jayce loose his mind.

─────── · ·

─ · · Jayce was already loosing his mind, his hands shaking as he readjusted his tie and cuffs a thousands times as he walked back and forth at the top of the isle seeing all the guests that had already arrived concerned stares at him.

He was blinking away tears in partial disbelief that he was actually going to marry you like he dreamed of doing all those years ago... and the other half in a stress-induced panic that you might never show... he knew you wouldn't do that to him yet his brain could not convince his heart.

─ · · Evren stands from his seat, clapping a hand on Jayce's back, forcing him to stand still, "you're scaring everyone, Jayce. Your bride looks great, she's on her way, now stand up straight like the man of progress they all know you to be and don't drop the ring," he winks before sitting back down. Jayce takes a deep breath in and long exhale out before closing his eyes and facing forwards, hands clasped together to hide the shakes.

─────── · ·

─ · · Readjusting your undergarments and hiding a picture on your person you step out of the bathroom before being lead to the lobby and make your way to the venue. Your knee bounces as you bite your lip, you desperately want to see Jayce now and feels like you can't get there quick enough as you get stopped at seemingly every intersection and crossroads.

─ · · You and Jayce separately hear as the music starts to play and all your bridesmaids take off ahead of you. Your breath hitches in your throat as you grip the bouquet between your hands, the door men await your nod before opening the first set of doors. You feel your heartbeat with every step you take, letting out a shaky breath once you are one turn away from seeing everyone... from seeing Jayce.

─ · · A cold touch of an indoor breeze as you chocking back a sob, 'Viktor,' you hiss to yourself, 'can't you see I'm already emotional?' And if wind could laugh it would by the way it whistled into ear and down the aisle as Jayce snapped his head up to see you. Tears. They streamed down both of your cheeks as Jayce blinked rapidly, not wanting to miss a moment.

─ · · Jayce grit is teeth together, smile wavering to conceal a sob, he was beyond words to capture how beautiful he thought you looked walking towards him as the dresses details came into view. For a moment he looked over to the spokesperson wondering how long it would be before he could feel your lipstick coating his lips.

And suddenly you were in front of him, handing your bouquet off and taking his hands. His eyes widened seeing the hexcore stitched into the lace of your dress. His heart raced, seeing your smile, palms sweating hearing your little giggle in his ear as he brushed a strand of hair away from your face letting out a small breath in disbelief.

"Hello, sweetheart," he whisper for you, "hello, my love," you greeted back, shuffling on your feet with excitement, gripping his hands as he refused to look away from you not even for a moment as the spokesperson clears their throat and begins to speak.

─ · · "Friends, family, and those who could not join us today but are lovingly remembered. We are gathered here today to witness a love that has transcended language, body, time, and space to come to this moment where Councillor Jayce Talis and Miss. (name) (last/name), wish to be wed.

Having met at the academy, these two brilliant minds clashed and connected for the first time in what would be a tale of sacrifice and longing but also one of perseverance and dedication. A tale of which many have seen, looked up to, or connected with.

Both individuals stand before us today have given their lives to building a better world, a better city, and a better future for others, and now they devote themselves wholly to one another. A decision not made lightly but has been taken with great consideration and respect for both the other person and oneself. And today we are to celebrate this commitment and witness the start of their new future as husband and wife.

Marriage is a bond like no other, it is promising yourself to someone and accepting that person for all their entirety- for all time; through the good days and the bad, through loss and the peaks of life, you chose one another as equally lovers and friends and understand that by marrying one another you are willing to sacrifice for the other and never take bond for granted yet strengthen it to the woes of time.

You both will develop the capacity to forgive and forget in order to perform your duties as husband and wife; to protect, love, and support the other for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health. For a good marriage is not something magically created or a thing of perfection but something that is maintained and that grows.

For one of the greatest things a person can do is find the capacity to love another, and this couple has shown that greatness countless times. Love creates the meaning within our lives and a love like this is to be recognized permanently through vows." The spokesperson waves for the rings as you smile brightly at Jayce, scrunching your nose playfully as he winks at you.

─ · · "Jayce," he nods, "do you take Miss. (name) (last/name) to be your lawfully wedded wife?" You stop breathing in wait, looking deeply into Jayce's eyes for any moment of reluctance but can only find overwhelming warmth and love in his hazel eyes, "I do."

"Will you love her, honour her, cherish and keep her, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, and keep yourself only unto her as long as you both shall live?"

"I will," you gasp feeling the cold band be pushed onto your finger before seeing Jayce anxiously look at you, eyes practically begging for you to say yes, as he blinks back tears.

"And do you take Councillor Jayce Talis to be your lawfully wedded husband?" Jayce squeezes your hands, swallowing deeply, you can feel as he shakes in your hold, "I do." You smile, unable to contain your smile as a few of your tears drip down onto your wedding bands.

"Will you love him, honour him, cherish and keep him, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, and keep yourself only unto him as long as you both shall live?"

"I will," you nod your head rapidly seeing as Jayce's eyes dilate onto your lips knowing what comes next. You both sound out the rest of the speech and the crowd that laughs as you both are practically shaking in your spot with restraint.

"You may now kiss-" Jayce cups your cheeks, tilting your head as he presses his lips against your own. Your eyes close as you smile from the familiar pressure, placing your hands atop of his before pulling away breathless and placing your foreheads against one another in a second kiss while catching your breaths.

Jayce's eyes are a dark honey as he searches your own, a teasing glint to his stare has you raising a brow before feeling him tip your body back and kiss you again, muffling your sounds of shock with his lips as you hear Evren cheer teasingly at you both.

You stand upright, leaning on Jayce's arm heavily as your sense of gravity is temporarily askew, following his lead back down the aisle and towards a private hall ahead of the reception for your portrait to be taken.

─────── · ·

─ · · A chair waits in front of a window facing the gardens of the venue. The photographer positions Jayce standing behind the chair, a hand on your shoulder like many of the pictures you had witnessed in the halls of the Academy. You frowned once seeing the picture appear before you- feeling distanced from your new husband in the image.

Seeing your displeasure with the image Jayce motions for you to stand before he takes the chair, patting the arm of the chair, "like old times-hm?" he speaks softly, looking up at you- watching intently as your eyes light up in memory to those long days and nights in the lab. A flash has you both quickly looking over watching as the photographer stands, smiling at you both, "I think we got the perfect shot there."

─ · · More photos are taken in various other locations and you and Jayce make sure to have individual pictures of one another for your offices. Your favourite of which is Jayce casting a wink just past the camera towards you, tie askew, a few strands of his hair dipping over his forehead as he smiles brightly, leaning back against a wall. Theres something so raw about the shot that you adore, a Jayce only for your eyes that few get to see the reality of.

"Always the pictures of me dishevelled for you, huh?" he questions with an eye roll, arm above your head as he leans closer to your body pressed against a wall. You feel as his finger drags across your bottom lip, hazel eyes bore into your own, another flash has you blinking rapidly remembering that you both were in fact getting your photos taken.

You glare at Jayce, swatting his chest watching as he pulls away with false hurt before turning around and sending the photographer off for a proper chance to kiss you. In a split second decision you decide to run away giggling as Jayce signs something off, patting the photographer on the shoulder before turning around and shaking his head- watching as you stop to turn around and wave before darting around a corner.

You speed up once hearing Jayce run after you, your heart is racing as your giggles turn into full laughs that have you struggling to breathe and before you know large hands grip your waist and pull you flush against a warm chest. You squirm and laugh feeling as Jayce's beard tickles you with every kiss up your shoulder towards your neck before biting your earlobe.

"A little bit late to be running away from me now, sweetheart," Jayce teases, breath hot and heavy in your ear as you lean your head back, looking up at him with large pleading eyes, "dance with me?" You hear as Jayce curses, closing his eyes, "fuck you're going to be the death of me." You laugh again, pulling fully away and taking his hand, dragging him down the hall.

─────── · ·

─ · · You walk up to the record player, smiling as all the vinyls you had requested were waiting in a crate for you to bend down and flip through. Pulling one gently from the sleeve, you sway side to side, wrapping your arms around yourself as the song starts.

Jayce watches you for a moment while slipping off his suit jacket and placing it on a door handle before pulling up his sleeves to his elbows. You close your eyes hearing as Jayce takes long strides to grab your waist, swaying alongside you as the song picks up. His hand feels down your arm, extending it out to the side so that your fingers can intertwine and he begins to take a few steps back, fully extending his arm out.

You look to the side, eyes connecting with a shared smile before Jayce starts to pull you back towards him and into a spin before you face one another, "my darling wife..." he murmurs to himself as you both rotate around the empty room, "my perfect husband," you say back, watching as Jayce blinks away tears at your words, you both listen to the way your skirt glides against the floor like soft waves in rhythm to his dress shoes that you're still guilty of stepping on.

Jayce keeps you close to him, hand dragging up and down you back, caressing your waist as you take another turn of the room, "...I love you so much," he says, kissing your cheek before you caress his own, pulling his head down for you to kiss his lips, "I love you too."

─────── · ·

─ · · When you both arrive at the reception you are unsurprised to see Evren already on a buzz as he points and yells loudly at you before darting over and pulling you away from Jayce who gets congratulated by all the Councillors you both don't remember inviting... Ximena shoves Evren aside with a huff, pulling at your cheeks, "It was a beautiful ceremony, I don't know if I've ever seen Jayce as happy as he was then. Thank you for making my son so happy," you nod your head along to her words, "I promise to continue making him happy."

She pulls you into a hug, "gosh I am so thankful you are my daughter now." You squeeze her back before making your rounds with a fresh glass of champagne in your hands.

─ · · Jayce maintained a smile as the Councillors spoke to him yet his jaw was clenched, irritated that they even showed up in the first place. After excusing himself for a refreshment, Jayce sat at the bar keeping his eye on your smile and the way that his mother almost refused to let you go from a hug.

But before he could stand to rejoin you, his past secretary stumbled forward, tapping him on the shoulder, sliding something into his hand without a word. Before Jayce even looked down to see what it was, he opened his mouth to ask yet she just pointed to his hand expectantly.

Hesitantly Jayce raised his hand taking a look at the image of you. The top of the image appeared normal picture of you in your second dress yet as his eyes trailed down you were fixing one of your stocking and Jayce pressed the image to his chest, glaring at the woman in front of him that just laughed and ran away. Shaking his head he look towards you, questioning why someone would give him something like this.

─ · · Feeling Jayce's stare on your back as you glide around the room from table to table greeting all of your close friends and shaking hands with Jayce's peers again.

You falter once seeing Mel step in front of you before hesitantly extending your hand surprised by how quickly she takes it and the way in which she smiles at you, "you both look stunning today."

"Thank you, Mel," you speak earnestly remembering all those days you looked up to her, her confidence and style only for her to be complimenting you, "just promise me that you'll love him as much as he loves you," she adds, gripping your hand a bit tighter as you hold her stare, "I promise."

She pulls away, hands flattening out her skirt before chiming her glass against your own once looking past your shoulder, "have fun tonight," she winks at you before downing the rest of her glass and walking away. You shake your head at the comment, turning to start a new conversation.

─ · · Jayce had received another two images in the time you had been speaking with Mel and he debated weather or not to say they got better or worse for himself as he became annoyed by everyones curious stares, you are not looking at my wife, as he buried the photos within his suit jacket.

─ · · A shadowy form clouds over your form as you pause your conversation once hearing Jayce's voice, a noticeable strain to his voice has you smiling knowingly, "You all are taking too much of my wife's attention from me, c'mon now we're about to have speeches and dinner," Jayce kisses your hand, pulling you towards you table as you smile apologetically hearing as they all laugh.

─────── · ·

─ · · Evren practically runs up to the stand as you sink down into your seat, covering your face before he can even mutter his first sentence. You hear as he clears his throat, addressing the crowd, "good evening everyone and hello to our most stunning couple- your kids are going to be the most spoiled little brats I just know it!" a chorus of laugher sounds. Jayce shakes his head and takes a sip from his glass before offering you a taste. Jayce smiled once seeing you stick out your tongue and glare at the disgusting liquid before shoving the glass back in his hands.

"Anyways! To the new wife of tonight, my best friend. Congratulations on getting yourself married to the hottest guy you could find but still questioned if you really liked him or not... multiple times. I mean GIRL, when he- Ximena, cover your ears my love, fucked you good enough to see lit-er-al stars after laying down his. life. for you- how did you NOT KNOW HE WAS THE ONE?- you know what, it all worked out in the end maybe I should be the one taking notes for once."

"Damn right Evren!" you shout watching as he flips you off. Jayce stares at you, smirking to himself as you refuse to look at him and feed his ego anymore.

"And Jayce, Jayce, Jayce my man. I'll say what everyone else thinks, if you were a little bit stupider and a bit more ugly... you would probably have gotten a restraining order but luckily enough you're not! you're married! and it fucking frustrates me that after being clinically dead you still managed to look better than I ever will in a year of trying," you don't know weather to laugh or comfort Evren, instead you look at Jayce who palms his face and sighs heavily.

"See he even looks good then and look at her- gods you both are so hot together its truly upsetting, anyways, have a good marriage and, Ximena, your ears again, know that everyone knows that the sex is amazing- the marks only confirmed everyones imagination. Okay! bye and love you both!" You stand and clap to Evrens bow as he struts back to his seat waving at everyone as he walks by.

Caitlyn is next to the stage, a small paper in her hand as she grabs the microphone and stares at Jayce until he looks back. Her speech is short as she blinks away glossy eyes, Jayce walks over to give her a hug, thanking her for the both of you before returning to your side as you rub his shoulder and present him a napkin for his eyes.

Ximena's speech surprises you in the way she speaks more about you than her own son, listing every time she asked Jayce when he would bring you back home again, if you were seeing anyone (with the intentions of that someone being him), and how grateful she was to have spent time living with you and getting to know you on a deeper level- confirming that if you both didn't get married by yourselves, "I would have pulled the dying wish card and told them to get together for my own happiness."

You scoff at the comment, "I was surprised that everyone else would be ripping into us tonight but your mom?" you whisper to Jayce, his arm wrapped around the back of your chair as he leans over, looking at the line of people waiting to speak, "remind me to tell you of all those nights she pelted me with apples for not being smart enough to ask you out."

"She did not," you voice drops, humour evident in your tone- smiling as Jayce does not answer, simply tracing random patterns on your shoulder.

─────── · ·

─ · · Jayce nods his head along to the rest of the speeches, his real focus is on you though before shock rattles his bones watching you stand and be presented a microphone as you take his hand and look deeply into his eyes as he sits and watches you- half interested in what you are about to say... the other half worried based upon the mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Jayce," he nods, leaning forwards and pressing a kiss against your hand, you stutter before finding your words again, "W-When I first met you... I was beyond intimidated by you; so outspoken and confident, pressing a kiss against my hand while holding eye-contact when I first went to shake your hand. I was not ready for you," you laugh, "after working for Viktor who often would just wave me away and tell me to take longer breaks and then to turn to you always willing to give me your undivided attention when I had a question scared me beyond belief especially when I felt myself falling for you. Looking more for your eyes, to share another brief touch... but I didn't want to mess anything up, wanted to work just as hard as I watched you work and how we didn't die from lack of sleep deserves its own lab study.

You were always the perfect gentleman, always knew how to make me laugh, sometimes I felt like I was a bad assistant for having you carry me to bed when I couldn't keep up with your math into the early morning hours or how you would be more than willing to leave events early when I was not feeling overly social... I told myself for years that you deserved someone..." you look away from Jayce, refusing to move as he pulls your hand lightly with a frown as you blink away tears, "...someone better than me, more willing to put themselves out there and not hold you back from the future you worked so hard towards for yourself, for this city.

No matter how much I desired to feel your touch, to hear your voice first thing in the morning or last of my day when we fell asleep on top of each other... I was so willing to let you go but of course, being Jayce Talis, you didn't allow that. Gosh I was so mad that you were not seeing what I was saying back then, that I only wanted what was best for you and for once in your life, you didn't listen to me- more stubborn than I.

And what frustrated me even more was how patient you were, just knowing that you could make me fold and you did, again and again no matter how much I was upset at you, no matter what happened, I just can't help myself but to love you," you conclude your speech with, sentence being cut off in the way Jayce pulls you to his lap, kissing your deeply before taking the microphone.

"My wife who fulfilled my greatest wish, to be your husband one day. To be the one who got to make you smile, to make you laugh and make your every wish happen for my own selfish happiness to be the reciprocant of your thanks.

I remember reading your's and Viktor's works and once getting admitted into the academy, I was making it a mission to not make a fool of myself when meeting you and when Heimerdinger told me that we would be working together, I nearly cried I was so excited and thankful for the opportunity that would become a lifetime study of love, happiness, and fulfilment.

Now I know that there is not a single thing I wouldn't do for you if you asked it of me. I struggle to put it into words to describe the ways in which you have changed me for the better and moulded me to being incomplete without having some part of you in my life. Know that there is not a single day that goes by since meeting you that I haven't thought about you in some way. Know that I need not know want when having you in reach and in mind. I love you, sweetheart."

You burry your face into Jayce's shoulder, kissing his neck repeatedly as he chuckles into the mic, a hand rubbing your thigh as he passes the microphone away and brushes the hair away from your ear, whispering, "how many more things are left to do before I can have you for myself?"

You shift on his thigh, "Jayce," you whine as his touch halts, his eyes warning, "be mindful of that voice, baby. I would be more than willing to fuck you right here."

You gasp at his words, "Jayce," you whisper shout, shaking your head to Jayce's shrug before remembering the card or rather picture up your sleeve.

Your husband raises a brow watching as you fiddle around in your dress before pressing the small square into his hand and standing up, "I'm going to go ask for the cake." You watch for a moment as Jayce see's bare skin, his eyes dart up hand extending in a silent demand for you to come back but you are rushing off to a staff server without another word leaving Jayce to squirm in his seat.

─────── · ·

─ · · Cutting the cake and serving everyone with Jayce's hand lingering on your lower back, dangerously close from slipping as he takes long even breaths watching as you lick your clips clear of icing before presenting him a spoonful, "this one has real strawberries inside!"

Jayce bends down allowing you to feet him, a wisp of icing stuck on his lowers lip as he looks at you expectantly, rolling his eyes when you grab a napkin much to the pleasure of the crowd that laughs towards the pouting groom.

You both then are pulled to the centre of the hall for a game, Jayce looks ready to just about murder Evren for proposing the idea, so close to leaving... he thinks to himself before helping you to your seat.

─ · · Sitting down you reach down and take off one of your shoes, exchanging it with one of Jayce's answering by raising the respective shoe to who the question fits more.

"Who's more likely to set the house on fire?" You instantly raise Jayce's shoe, listening to the crowd laugh as Jayce drags his head down, admitting defeat.

"Who's the boss of the relationship?" You both laugh at the question as Jayce explains, "Well depends on the time but recently," he throws up your shoe.

"Who's needier? First to Say 'I'm sorry?' Most likely to cry during a sad movie? More Romantic? Wants kids first? Pays more often? More outspoken?" Jayce mumbles to himself about the questions being unfair as you giggle, reaching around to grab his hand briefly before having to answer the next question.

"Who will be the stricter parent?" you raise your shoe knowing damn well that wouldn't be able to stick to his word at the sight of tears. "I could be strict!" Jayce states, "I'm sure you can be, my love," you reply in a teasing tone.

"Who is better at keeping surprises?" your win again.

"Who's the better kisser?" you raise Jayce's shoe with warming cheeks yet are surprised that Jayce has raised your shoe, "can't kiss myself now can I?" you laugh, swatting his shoulder playfully.

"Who loves the other more?" You raise your shoe before turning around in your seat as Jayce raises his shoe turning around as well with a smile.

─────── · ·

─ · · Taking to the rest room to freshen yourself up and change after the game, Jayce receives a handful more images as he begins to constantly fix his clothes, undoing his tie before turning into the hall and leaning against a wall waiting for you. He groans, closing his eyes, images of you flashing through his imagination making his skin feel hot, clothes too heavy- skin aching for your touch. He was done being patient and ready to drag you home, the guests be damned, he needed you soon.

─ · · Mel opens the door just as you are drying your hands, a wave of deja vu washes over you as she stands beside you, smirking while observing you both in the mirror. "Having fun tonight?- Jayce is falling apart at the seams out there, he glared at Evren suggesting that you all do shots later," she laughs knowingly while reapplying her lipstick as you blink up at her, surprised by her forwardness.

Mel knows her shoulder into your own, "or you can hide in the bathroom and I grab the rest of the girls and we continue in here... but Jayce might just combust. He was flinching at even the slightest contact by others." You nod and begin wiping off your make up knowing that you wouldn't have time to later. "What did you do to work him up so much?"

"Just gave a few pictures," you explain, drying off your face, casting her a smile as she laughs harder, "never knew you to be a little menace," she jokes, the bathroom door opens as you both look to see Evren enter, covering his eyes and shouting, "ladies I am sorry but if the bride is in here? Jayce just threatened me and I'm really scared this time!"

You laugh, "just me and Mel, Ev. You're good." Evren sighs, blinking to adjust to the light before whistling when seeing you in your new dress. "Looking hot, you seriously expect to walk back into the dining hall?" You shrug, "wanna bring the drinks in here?" Evren smiles at you before shaking his head, "I don't have a death wish."

─────── · ·

─ · · SERIES MASTERLIST

─ · · A/N: *clears throat and fixes glasses while checking notes* you and Jayce proceed to quote, "rail each other for the following two weeks..." huh... welp... *slaps knees and stands* see you all soon!

─ · · JAYCE TALIS TAGLIST: @sseleniaa @sunshiines-stuff @kiromiix @todorokishoe24 @w2momo @m-arj-1 @reid490 @kaminocasey @chickenlvr123 @peachhiz @hellokittyluvr69420

[deantfwinchester]

Neighborhood Walgreens

Pairing: No-Outbreak!AU, Joel x Teacher!Reader like always

This one takes place before the other two timeline-wise, I guess - just a few months into knowing each other. No established relationship, and some ridiculous flirting.

Summary: A busy, sick Joel gets a little care from the people in his life - including the neighbor and friend he's been crushing on for the past few months.

Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff-fluffity-fluff. Bout to get a standing root canal appointment, tbh.

A/N: The bulleted fics are piling up in the notes app, but boy are the well-crafted girlies a bit of a trek. More to come, if the functioning part of my brain has anything to say about it.

Word Count: 5.9k. absolute unit.

——————————————————————————————

Joel wakes up feeling like shit. He’d felt a bit of a scratch in his throat the night before, but tried to write it off as allergies or something - until he woke himself up coughing before his alarm could even go off. He knows he has a cold the second he tries to breathe through his nose - no dice. His head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, and it’s pounding before he can open his eyes. He shivers when he moves the blankets aside to get up, and each muscle in his body begs him to crawl back into bed.

Ever the trooper, he rises anyway, heading to the bathroom and checking the medicine cabinet to find what he’d feared - no cold medicine. Awesome. Resigning himself to trucking through the day, he blows his nose, pops a couple tylenol, and gets ready. His respiratory system isn’t too fond of the assault, however, and he’s coughing up a lung before he can finish. Today should be fun. He’ll need to stop by the drugstore on his way home. 

Once he’s dressed for the day (trying his best to look alive), Joel trudges down the stairs to see Sarah at the kitchen table, half-eaten bowl of cereal in one hand and a pencil in the other as she finishes the last of her homework. She hears him shuffle in and looks up just as he sniffles, locking eyes right before he can still his features into a facade of rested wellness. The  look on her face tells him he’s not getting away without worrying her, and he hates that. She doesn’t say a word as he makes his way to the coffee pot, she just watches him, only speaking up when he shivers at the mug’s warmth in his hands. The weather’s typical for an early autumn morning, but nowhere near chilly. Though the temperature should drop today with rain in the forecast, Sarah knows her dad and he’s never cold. 

“You know, I could just head next door. I guarantee she’d be happy to drive me,” she says smiling into her textbook, trying to be nonchalant with her concern. She was referring to you, their neighbor of a few months now, who’d given Sarah rides, helped her with homework, or checked in on her when Joel needed. You’d been around since the day you moved in, and neither of them could complain — certainly not Joel. Maybe she was hoping to fluster him a bit as well, suspecting his feelings for you were a bit more than the friendship he insists they are. 

He chokes on his coffee and coughs a little, shaking his head as she closes her book and begins leafing through her notes. Joel’s been worried enough lately that he’s taking advantage of your kindness too much — afraid he’s inconveniencing you and you’re too nice to say no, despite your insistence to help on more than one occasion. Besides, he already feels crappy, the last thing he wants today is for you to see him like this, hardly able to keep himself together. Or worse, to get you sick as well. Absolutely not. He opens his mouth to respond, but she speaks first. “It’s not like she hasn’t before. Maybe just one day? You need…,” she trails off, losing the battle with her expression as her eyebrows knit together and she notes the pallor and exhaustion on his own.

He takes a swig of his coffee hoping it will soothe the growing soreness in his throat before responding, “That’s alright kiddo, I-,” but the words catch in his throat before he can finish, and he cuts himself off coughing harshly into his elbow. Sarah grabs a glass and fills it with water while he coughs, longer than he has all morning, and hands it to him when he catches his breath. The look on her face is challenging now — she knows she won’t win this game, but she’ll still put up a fight. Predictably, Joel continues his previous thought as though unfazed by the fit, though his voice tells another story. “It’s just a cold, I’ll be fine. You don’t need to be worryin’ about me, babygirl,” he says hoarsely, waving her off with a sniffle. “You got a science test today, worry about that. You feelin’ ready?,” he asks, subverting talk of both his illness and mentions of you.

Sarah relents with a sigh, “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she says, gesturing to the textbook and notes on the table. He’s more confident than she is, and he smiles brightly at her.

“You’ve got it down, not a doubt in my mind. Now finish getting your stuff together before we’re late. I’ll get the car runnin’,” he says, moving his coffee to a travel thermos before grabbing her lunch from the refrigerator and getting it packed up. She looks back at him hesitantly before leaving the room to gather the last of her school stuff. 

Joel’s got his coffee in hand and Sarah’s lunch in the seat next to him as he waits in the truck. It’s nice enough outside, but he’s still chilly, and wonders if he should run back in and grab a jacket. He forgoes this idea when he realizes Sarah’d put up more of a fight if he did, knowing he’s warm-blooded as all hell, and vocally hot until at least November. Not to mention Tommy’d see right through him the second he shows up to work. No, it’s just early in the morning. The day will warm as the sun climbs to its apex for sure. He’ll be alright. 

While he’s thinking too hard through the fog in his head, Sarah climbs into the car with her backpack on, pulling it off to throw into the seat next to her. But not before she’s placed two additions in the seat between them - a box of tissues and a water bottle. She doesn’t say anything to him, just gives him a knowing look before loading her lunch into her backpack. Joel stills a moment — he’s not surprised by her care, but softens at the gesture. As Sarah shuts the passenger door, Joel wonders how the hell she turned out so sweet, and kisses the top of her head in silent thanks before pushing the truck into drive.

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time Joel gets to work, his headache has bloomed into pain behind his eyes, leaving him squinting hard in the bright morning sun. He’s also used quite a few tissues since he dropped Sarah off at school. He’s definitely grateful she thought to grab them, but unfortunately, his congestion won’t budge. He’s not naive enough to think he can hide from Tommy, but hopeful that his brother might at least leave him be today. He can muscle through if he’s just working and not being nagged by his brother for hours. He’s sure of it.

—--------------------

Tommy’s not an idiot, but he lets him slide for the first few hours. It’s clear he knows something’s wrong. Joel’s a quiet enough guy, but never this silent, only speaking up when the work demands. He noticed when Joel got out of the truck this morning looking particularly drained - both in face and demeanor - and had checked in as casually as possible, hoping to avoid his brother’s evident and exceptional irritability. Joel, of course, had promptly brushed him off and clammed up for the remainder of the morning. Speaking only when spoken to hadn’t stopped Joel from making noise, though, much to his brother’s dismay. Tommy had seen him all morning, breaking into intermittent fits of coughing he’d attempt to mask beneath the racket of power tools. Tommy’s just about as good at hiding his concern, and Joel catches him looking in his direction in the thick of it on more than one occasion. After which Joel would rip his eyes from his brother’s fretful gaze, hoping to deter him from moving forward to give him a once-over. 

Despite his many efforts otherwise, Tommy knows Joel’s sick - too sick to be working like he is today. It’s when the guys break for lunch around noon and Joel just quietly nurses a bottle of water (which he only has because Sarah made sure of it, no less), that Tommy decides he’s got all the evidence he needs. Tommy sidles up next to his brother who’s leaning against his truck bed, and by the looks of it, allowing it to hold most of his weight, too weary to do so himself. Tommy sighs next to him, and Joel braces for what’s coming.

“You know, we’ve pretty much got it covered over here today, not a lot left to do before we pour anyhow. Probably a good thing, bottom looks like it’s gonna fall out before long,” he says, gesturing to the darkening sky above them. “We can manage for the day if you wanna head on home, maybe take a nap? Hate to tell ya, but you look like hell.” Tommy nudges his brother’s shoulder with his own playfully, attempting to lighten the mood. Joel rolls his eyes at Tommy, sniffing and clearing his throat to talk.

“Nah. ‘S just a cold. I’ll be alright,” Joel says, hoping to end the discussion with his curt response, but failing when his throat catches on the last word. Tommy’s face is etched in worry at the sound of the cough tearing up his brother’s throat. 

While Joel attempts to catch his breath, Tommy takes in the reddened flush on Joel’s otherwise pale face, and the distant glassiness in his eyes. Taking advantage of his distracted state, Tommy places the back of his hand against Joel’s forehead. He’s barely there long enough to get a read on his temp before Joel swats his hand away, but it’s enough. No wonder he’s caught Joel shivering more than once today. 

“Dammit Joel, you know better. We’ve sent guys home for less and you know it,” says Tommy, face twisting in frustration and concern. 

“Tommy it’s fine I-“ Joel attempts to reply, but Tommy cuts him off. 

“Did you even bother to check it before ya left? You know this is a fuckin’ hazard on the job. Damn accident waitin’ to happen,” his tone is grave, but his expression is worried and achingly sincere. Joel pushes the thought from his mind and shapes up - not his little brother’s job, he can take care of himself. 

“No. I’m fine to keep workin. That’s it. We got stuff to do,” Joel says with finality, turning on his heel and promptly returning to his tasks. Tommy’s not happy about it, but he could spend all day arguing with his bullheaded brother, tiring him out more without making any headway. No, he’ll just keep a closer eye on him while they work. That’ll have to do.

—--------------------

It’s when the rain starts coming down a little after two that Tommy hits his limit. Once he notices a couple drops beginning to fall, he looks to Joel, just in time to see his brother shivering when the drops make contact with his overheated skin. That’s enough of that. Tommy stalks over to his brother, whose reaction time is significantly slowed, and Joel turns to look at him a bit dazed. 

“Alright, that’s it. Rain’s coming down, you’re shaking like a fuckin’ leaf. Go home.” It’s Tommy’s turn to remain steadfast in his convictions. Joel looks over at him with tired eyes and Tommy can’t help but soften. 

Only when a few chilled drops hit Joel’s face and neck making him colder than he’s felt all day that he concedes. “Yeah, alright.” It’s clear he doesn’t have the energy to put up a fight, especially when Tommy pats his shoulder comfortingly and he slumps a bit. Joel’s shivering again as Tommy ushers him back toward his truck. 

“We’re heading out soon as we get cleaned up anyway. How ‘bout I pick up Sarah? Just go home and get some sleep?” Tommy asks, hopeful now that his brother’s folding. 

“Okay,” he breathes out, running a hand down his face before trying in vain to rub out the pain behind his eyes. Joel stops just outside the driver’s side door and looks to Tommy to thank him. 

“‘Course. Now head home. I’ll see you in a little bit,” Tommy responds, to which Joel nods, then climbs into the truck. Tommy takes another look back to find his brother sitting in the driver’s seat gathering himself, mildly satisfied with this result 

_____________________________________________________________

For once you actually make your way to the parking lot right after school on a Friday. You're notorious for staying too late, grading, planning, or straight up yapping, but today you’d made a rookie mistake. You’d showed up to work on Day 2 of your period without checking your advil stash. Fuck. 

After a day of cramping, crabbiness, and guilty apologies after being kind of a bitch to your students a couple of times, you head to your car as soon as the bell rings. You’ll stop in the Walgreens around the corner from your neighborhood for a quick supply run, then head home to be comfortably horizontal for the remainder of this fine Friday afternoon.

—--------------------

Truth be told, Joel is relieved to be done for the day by the time Tommy makes him leave. The last of his resolve had crumbled and fallen with the first raindrops and the chill they set in his bones. He turns the heat on in his truck and settles in, letting the air warm him up and willing the pounding in his head to subside just long enough to focus on the road. A few minutes and a bout of coughing later, he finally works up the strength to drive home, only to realize he’s still horrifically unmedicated. Shit. Guess he’s stopping at the drugstore on his way home if he wants even a little relief.

—--------------------

Joel’s standing in the cold and flu aisle of his neighborhood Walgreens, sniffling miserably and squinting heavy-lidded at different cold medicine boxes in each of his hands. He remembers one particular medicine helping at least a bit more than others last time he was sick, but for the life of him he can’t remember which one it was. Dammit, he really just wants to get out of here. He’d much rather keep this cold to himself than be hacking in public, but he needs something if he’s ever gonna stop coughing long enough to get the sleep he desperately needs. 

The tiny white letters on the back of these orange and green boxes are starting to run together, and the pain behind his eyes digs its heels into his frontal lobe. He squeezes his eyes shut and curses a little louder than he realizes, triggering a coughing fit in the middle of the store. Great. Now everyone in the store knows he’s carrying a respiratory plague. He’s sniffling and feeling like a walking germ when he hears his name called.

“Joel?” you call from the end of the aisle, having heard his voice from a few lanes over. Joel turns his head to see - oh no. Jesus. Boy did he wish you weren’t the one seeing him look so gross right now. As you come closer to find him squinting under the clinical brightness of the drugstore, you get a good look at him. He looks… rough. His hair’s a bit damp, and more disheveled than usual - not the fresh, styled damp you see when he leaves the house after a shower, but a clammier mix of sweat and rain. His posture is far from the typical confidence and swagger he typically wields with each step, and is more evidently haggard. You notice his eyes first though, with dark circles and brows creased in confused exhaustion. They’re half-closed too, like he’s fighting to keep them open. 

He tries to open them wider and stand up straighter as you approach, clearing his throat to speak, but he’s coughing again before he can get a word out. He’s shaking with the force of it and you notice his shirt is damp in places as well - must have gotten caught in the rain. Just minutes ago, he’d have been uncomfortable under your scrutiny, but he’s too wrapped up in catching his breath to be embarrassed at this point. You draw nearer with pure concern in your eyes as his coughing subsides, and his resolve melts a bit more.

“Whoa, hey, you okay over there? That sounded painful,” you say, finally meeting his eyes. He notices the fretful tone in your voice — it’s gentler than his brother’s but carries the same intention. 

“Yeah, can’t say it feels great,” Joel says hoarsely before attempting to clear his throat once again, hoping his lungs will cooperate this time. “Can’t seem to remember which of these damn pills will give me a hand though.”

“Didn’t I just see you on Wednesday? When did you start feeling bad?” you ask, leaning against his side to take a closer look at one of the boxes from his hands. Maybe with some details you can help figure something out to get him feeling better, or at least let him rest.

“Last night, I guess. Came on pretty quick. Was workin’ okay this morning, but once the rain started, Tommy sent me packin’.”

“You went to work like this, Joel?! Isn’t that like, dangerous? You could really hurt yourself,” you chastise, rubbing his upper arm comfortingly while staring up at him looking utterly devastated. Christ he may melt into a puddle right here. He’s seen this look before, and though he doesn’t want you close enough to catch this, he doesn’t have the heart to shove you away like he did Tommy. He bothers to look at least a little guilty, and you sigh before continuing: “Bad idea. And you know it. Now, let’s figure this out. You’ve got the cough down for sure - what are your other symptoms?”

Before Joel can respond, he looks down into the small basket hanging over your arm and notices its contents: a box of pads, tampons, a bag of peanut M&Ms, a resealable bag of bite-sized chocolates, sour gummy worms, two different pain medications, and a box of peppermint tea. Pain relief, pads, and candy salad. Caught. This is not a conversation you want to have with Joel — men get weird about periods for some childish reason, and you’re really not in the mood. You glance down and move the basket behind you a bit, ready to brush him off and keep the conversation on him, but when you meet his eyes they’re wider and his brows are furrowed above you, drinking you in.

“You sure you’re feeling alright?,” he asks, gesturing to the contents of your little black basket. His tone mirrors the worry you’ve been bleeding since you turned onto the aisle. You’re taken aback by the question at all, given the obvious nature of today’s dilemma — one most men you know wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole. His voice doesn’t waver, and his expression doesn’t falter, or express an ounce of discomfort. It’s interesting, but you’d rather not dwell on it, and laugh him off anyway.

“Oh, yeah. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before of course,” you smile and wave your hand in the air to brush off his concern, but his eyebrows inch closer to one another, and his head tilts slightly to the side. You’re the one growing warm under his perusal now, so you turn the subject back to him. “Anyway, talk to me. What’s the matter?”

Joel stares a moment longer, but begins to rattle off a list of fairly standard cold symptoms. You’re glad it isn’t anything too serious, he’ll probably just feel crappy for a couple of days while his immune system does the heavy lifting. Now to figure out what can be done to make him more comfortable in the meantime. One thing you know for certain after hearing the growing congestion in his voice and the rasp in his throat — he’s gonna need the stronger stuff. You take the boxes from his hands and return them to the shelf. He looks at you perplexed, struggling to sniffle against the congestion that — according to the pained squinting he’s still doing beneath the fluorescent lights — is giving him a hell of a sinus headache, and keeping him from breathing through his nose. Fine as he may be in a few days, at the moment he looks devastatingly uncomfortable. 

“Yeah, this crap on the shelf isn’t gonna work. Let’s get ya some of the stronger stuff,” you say, patting his shoulder before tugging him along to the pharmacy. He doesn’t ask any questions, just quietly follows your lead. Along the way, you explain the useless nature of the phenylephrine in the easy stuff, and how the good stuff requires you to show your ID. You tell him why the drugs with the pseudoephedrine are more helpful, and he nods and snuffles in understanding. Sounds good to him, he’ll let you take the lead on that one. As smart as he knows you are, he more than trusts your judgment.

You approach the counter and begin perusing the options, talking with the pharmacist about what you need, when Joel starts coughing again. You can’t help but rub his back and whisper soft words in comfort when his face twists in pain from the fit wreaking havoc in his chest. As your hand moves in soothing circles across his back, you can feel the heat of his skin through his t-shirt. Shit, he didn’t say anything about a fever. You need to get him home as soon as possible. 

When he’s composed a bit, you wrap up with the pharmacist, and she asks for your ID. You pull yours from your bag and hand it to her, but pause. Should you show her your own? Does she need to see Joel’s too?

“Oh, for sure. Uhm, do you need to see his too, since he’s the patient?” you ask, wanting to get done with this as quickly and smoothly as possible so you can get him out of here. She’s looking at the card in her hand intently and entering your information into the computer, busy with the transaction.

“No ma’am. We don’t need your husband’s ID since you’re the one purchasing,” she responds, not lifting her eyes from the computer. You blush at this, but she doesn’t seem to notice until Joel’s eyes go wide and he chokes, forcing him into another bout of harsh coughing. Jesus, his throat must be torn up. You reach for him with one hand and place your own basket and a few other sick day supplies on the counter with the other before she finalizes the transaction. 

“Thanks for all your help!,” you say a bit frantically as you begin to usher him toward the exit. You walk out of the store in silence, neither one of you looking at the other, each of you trying to keep a nervous smirk at bay. Only when the automatic doors shut behind you do you turn to look at each other and laugh heartily, extremely entertained by the pharmacist’s assumption. The laughter only ceases when it sends Joel coughing again — you need a read on that fever he’s sporting. Once he’s mostly caught his breath, you move closer and place a gentle hand on his forehead, then move it down toward his cheek. Joel closes his eyes and without realizing, leans forward into your soft touch. When your hand leaves his face, his eyes open to find that look again, and he muses that you may make him sweat before the fever gets the chance. 

“You didn’t mention this earlier. Did you know you’re running a fever, Joel?” you ask him, and he looks guilty toward the asphalt. 

“Tommy mighta mentioned somethin’ about it earlier, but I’ll be alright,” he responds, but fails to suppress a shiver when the breeze kicks up. Your heart breaks a little seeing him shaking — how did you miss that earlier? You sigh deeply before telling him you’re hesitant to let him drive home. He insists it’ll be fine, and you understand it’d be more of a hassle to come get his truck later on. You concede since it’s such a short trip back, but you’ll follow him back to your adjacent homes. 

—--------------------

After parking your car in the driveway next to his own, you meet Joel at his truck. You bat his hand away when he attempts to grab the bags from yours, and tell him to go unlock the door. Ever the gentleman, he’s a little perturbed, but follows your instructions anyway. Once you’re both inside the house, you set the items on the table and sit him down next to it before heading for the cabinet and filling a glass with water. After passing him the glass and watching as he slowly sips, you unload the bags, and begin reading the back of the box from the pharmacy. 

“Have you eaten anything today? It’s probably not a great idea to take this on an empty stomach,” you say. He goes a little green at the thought of eating anything before swallowing and huffing a response.

“No, haven’t really felt like it. Don’t think it’d sit well right now, to be honest. I’ll be alright with just the medicine, I bet.” You sigh in response, a little anxious it’ll make him feel worse, but either option could do that at this point. At least the thought of the medicine isn’t nauseating for him at the moment. You’ll let it slide, for now. 

“Fine. But you’ll definitely need to eat something substantial later,” you tell him, giving him a once-over, taking advantage of the single instance he’s below you to get a good look at him. You’re already thinking through take-out options that might help tonight. Another day, you’d make some soup for him — get him full and warm him up. Hell, tomorrow you might. But today you’re exhausted, with the period fatigue and the cramps that won’t let up, you’re definitely ready to get into some more comfy Friday Afternoon Clothes. 

“Alright, you get changed and get comfy on the couch. I’m just gonna run home and get outta these work clothes, then I’ll be right back.” 

“You’ve done plenty already today, darlin’, really. Helped me out more than you know. And I’d hate for you to catch this too,” he explains, looking guiltier than you’d like. You’re plenty aware of the risk here but at the moment you couldn’t care less. You don’t really feel like sitting by yourself in your house right now anyway. No reason both of you should feel crappy alone. 

“Uh, Joel, did you forget that we’re ‘married’ now? I’ll be back in just a minute to check on you,” you insist, smiling at him. He looks at you admonishingly and smiles back, shaking his head. You have no idea how happy that makes him — his stomach flutters at the joke, and it isn’t from his illness. You hesitate on the way out the door, and turn to check with him once again. “If having me hovering is gonna keep you up though, I can totally leave you be. I don’t want to keep you from getting the rest you need.” Your voice and expression are apprehensive, afraid to be a bother. 

He probably doesn’t still his face well enough, and he’s certain you can see desperation in his eyes when he shakes his head. He can’t tell you quite yet, but he’s over the moon you want to stick around. All semblance of nobility is dropped - having you near him could never be unwelcome. “You don’t hover, sweetheart. Nothing about you is bothersome. I’d love the company, actually,” he tells you in earnest.

Your expression settles at the reassurance, and you smile back at him. “Good. I’ll just be a few minutes,” you begin, but your smile turns to a grimace with the last few words as you feel a sharp twisting in your stomach and lower back. Your hand instinctively grips your stomach, hoping to ease the pain. There’s definitely no escaping that one. Joel’s eyes widen, but you cut him off before he can ask if you’re okay. “Yep, I'm gonna get out of these pants and into something loose before my uterus tries to kill me,” you joke, reaching for the knob. 

Joel chuckles in response but he’s frowning a bit. The look from the drugstore is back, and you don’t know what to do with his sympathy. You can’t look long before heading out. 

He hates seeing the pain you’re in, but what upsets him most is the way you brush it off. Like your pain is smaller, or insignificant by comparison — one he wouldn’t draw anyway. It sticks with him more than it probably should, but he can’t seem to shake it. He needs to act, somehow. Once he’s changed, he grabs a few blankets from the closet and the heating pad they keep around for his back and for Sarah’s own cycles. He knows how much it can help her, so he figures it couldn’t hurt to offer, at least. 

He sets up a spot on the couch for you both — a little nest for staring at the tv and, (he hopes), cozying up just a bit for extra comfort. He’s still not hungry, but he microwaves a bag of popcorn and grabs some other assorted salty snacks to join the candy you’d picked up. He’s seen how snacky you can get after school sometimes, and wants to make sure you have an array of options, prepped for any craving. 

You return as he’s placing the last of these items down on the coffee table — he’s rather proud of his little presentation — and sees your hair up and a comfy set of sweats that are just a little too long in the arms and legs. Lord help him, you look fucking adorable. He can’t stop the grin that spreads across his face when you walk toward him. 

“Well don’t you look cozy,” he says with eyes shining at your improved expression. You give him an exaggerated little twirl to show off the baggy outfit you’ve adorned yourself in for this evening’s activities. 

“Damn right! I’m ready for anything now,” you say, stuffing your hands in the pocket of your hoodie. He’s laughing in response before it catches in his throat again and he starts coughing. 

“That makes one of us,” he jokes once he’s caught his breath. 

“Yep, I want you on the couch. Right now. Go ahead and get comfy and I’ll get the medicine. We gotta get you drugged up enough if you’re gonna get any sleep.” You’re ushering him to the couch when you stop in your tracks. When you catch sight of the coffee table snacks and the heating pad set up on one side of the couch, already plugged in and waiting, you nearly tear up. You’re speechless for a moment — no one’s ever done anything like this for you before. This little thoughtful gesture means the world, and you’re not sure what to say. 

“Joel! You didn’t need to do all this. You’re sick, I’m supposed to be taking care of you,” you insist, nudging his arm with your own, leaning lightly into his side. 

“Wasn’t hardly anything, darlin’, just some stuff I know helps Sarah when she gets to feelin’ like you do. She likes her snacks salty, and always feels better with this little fire hazard next to ‘er,” he says, gesturing to the heating pad on the couch. His grin turns mischievous before he starts again: “Besides, you said it yourself, we’re ‘married’ now, huh? I oughta know what my wife needs just as well,” he finishes, voice too satisfied, and eyebrows raised in jest. 

You’re giggling when you grab his hand and squeeze it, thanking him. “This goofy little bit we’re doin’ ends the second Sarah and your brother walk through the door, by the way. Not looking to scare her, that’s the last thing I wanna do,” you instruct.

“‘Course, but fuckin’ with Tommy sure woulda been fun,” he says to you, and you laugh in agreement. Once you see he’s settled, you make tea for the both of you, hoping it’ll work magic with the medicine to get him resting comfortably and — with any luck — napping before long. He’ll probably protest, but with a little coaxing, you’ll get it into him. 

When you return with the tea, he takes it from you with both hands, before using one to pull you down on the couch next to him. He’s pulled you a little closer than you may have sat yourself, and he’s pleased when you don’t pull away or readjust. You just grab the heating pad, crank it up, and stick it behind your lower back while leaning forward to grab the medicine. You check his temperature again with the back of your hand while he’s preoccupied taking the medicine you’d doled out to him. He’s a little warmer than he was outside the drug store. 

“Maybe we should get a number on that. Where do you keep your thermometer?” you ask, worry written on your face all over again. You attempt to rise from the couch to go hunting, but he grips your hand again, keeping you in place.

“Nope, nope, it’s fine sweetheart, I promise. You need to get some rest too. Sit,” he directs, his tone leaving no room for discussion. You roll your eyes, but wriggle back against the couch again before pulling a blanket into your lap. Joel fiddles with the cord of the heating pad and readjusts it behind your back, making sure it isn’t folded or sitting uncomfortably against you. You sigh in relief and fall a bit toward him as you settle in, and he inches you way as well. You arbitrarily turn on a movie you’ve both seen, fully aware neither of you will be making it to the end, and snuggle closer. The fevered heat humming beneath his skin is pleasantly warm against you as he settles deeper, and he’s slipping in and out of conversation within minutes. 

_____________________________________________________________

Sarah walks through the door with Tommy in tow while end credits roll across the tv. They head into the den to check on Joel, but conversation falls silent and they stop in their tracks at the sight they discover. You’re sleeping peacefully, legs tucked up under you and head lolled against the back of the couch. Joel’s head has somehow found its way into your lap, and he’s resting warmly on your stomach, no doubt alleviating some of the pain with his warmth and weight. Your hand rests on his shoulder, holding him securely.

Tommy’s face goes slack, but Sarah’s smiling ear to ear, and turns to her uncle, trying to quiet her laughter. He looks at her wide-eyed, but says nothing, and she holds her hand out between them, fingers curling toward her palm.

“Pay up,” she says, way too satisfied for Tommy’s liking, and far too much like her father. He rolls his eyes, and digs his wallet out of his pocket. He really thought his brother would be too chicken to do anything about this — at least for a little while longer.

[warmblanketwhump]

Idea for you. Let’s say we have 5 characters living in one household. They’re all very close. A brings an illness into the house. B catches it while taking care of them. Then C joins the party. Then finally D catches it as well, leaving E to take care of all of them. They start to feel ill, but power through. By the time the others have recovered, E’s fever is bad, and now they have to take care of the caretaker.

this flu season, everyone got sick.

First to fall was A, who came home from work with a pale face and a raspy voice and went straight to bed. When E went up to see them, they found them huddled in bed, blearily staring at the wall.

“I don’t feel good,” they whimper.

Next, C’s nagging cough deepened. It had started a tickle in their throat, but soon moved all the way down into their chest. C was the active type—always going for runs and spending time outdoors—so E knew they were in trouble when a short walk from room to room left C breathless, and soon, they were bedridden as well.

Then, B started complaining about feeling chilled.

“Aren’t you guys freezing?” They sat at the dinner table with D and E, a blanket clutched round their shoulders as they stare blankly at the meal they’ve barely touched.

“No?”

B runs their hands up and down their arms, then hugs themselves tightly with a shudder. “I just can’t get warm.”

D and E exchange a look before D rests a hand on B’s shoulder. “I’ll get the thermometer.”

In the span of 36 hours, three of them had become bedridden.

At first, it’s a bit of a joke between them all, D and E commiserating as they move between rooms with cough syrup, tissues, blankets, and tea.

“We should open up our own hospital,” E cracks as they

But that all changes four days in when E comes downstairs to see D at the kitchen table, ashen-faced and clutching a mug of tea in their hands.

“D, you look awful.”

D hugs the mug closer to their chest and shudders, coughing weakly. “I’ll manage. It’s just the sniffles.”

Before D can move away, E’s got a palm to their too-warm forehead and a sinking feeling in their chest. “Off to bed with you, D. You’re the next victim.”

D groans, slumping over with their head on the kitchen table. “E, I can’t just leave you.”

“Yes, you can and you will. You’re feverish and pale as death.”

D pulls the blanket tighter, a sheepish look on their face. “I thought…I thought it wouldn’t get me too.”

“No one thinks it will. Bed. Now.”

So that’s how D winds up the fourth victim of the flu, and despite their protests, they were arguably the worst hit. What they tried to pass off as a quick rest turned into a six-hour nap. they woke that evening with a 104 fever, having sweat through their clothes and bedsheets.

“It’s going to be a long night,” E whispers under their breath.

——————-

Two days later, E’s standing in the kitchen, fighting to keep their eyes open as the coffee brews, when they feel it.

A chill, prickling between their shoulder blades before it washes over their whole body.

No. I’m just overworked and sleep deprived.

Generously, E had slept for a combined 3 or 4 hours over the past two nights. It was partially their own fault. They’d been sleeping on the hallway floor so they could be equally close to everyone, which meant they heard every whimper, every cough, every quiet plea for help.

C had been up all night with a body-wracking cough, and B’s fever had spiked twice, which meant two changes into dry pajamas. A seemed to be through the worst of it, but they were still so weak they had to be helped to the bathroom. D woke at 2 in the morning, wracked with chills so violent that E gave into their pleas and helped them take a bath to warm up. After being dried off, they spent the rest of the night clutching a hot water bottle.

After that ordeal, E hadn’t even gone to bed—they’d just collapsed on D’s carpet, tugged the nearest blanket around themselves, and passed out.

Until they were woken by C’s coughing a couple hours later, and it all began again.

I'll just finish these dishes and then go sit by the fire. It's probably just this cold snap getting to me.

But as they wash dish after dish, E finds that each one becomes harder and harder to lift. Even the effort of standing makes their knees shake, and goosebumps prickle on E’s arms for no reason at all.

No. No. I can’t get sick.

By midmorning, it’s clear that something is very wrong. E’s chilled to the bone, despite being layered in thermals, a thick sweater and multiple pairs of socks. They resist the urge to wrap up in their bathrobe—the others will know something is wrong if they have that many visible layers on.

So they take A a glass of water, trying to hide how badly their hands are shaking when they hand it off. A must be thirsty enough they don’t notice as they gulp the glass down, but they frown once they’ve finished.

“E, you’re pretty peaked.”

“Hmm?” E snaps to attention, their focus drifting.

“You just look sorta washed out. Have you been sleeping?”

“I’ve been fine. As much sleep as I can with four patients to take care of,” E snaps. They instantly regret their tone as A flinches, then raises their eyebrows. “Sorry. It’s just…it’s been a lot.”

A props themselves up, wrapping their discarded robe around their shoulders. “E, I promise I’m feeling better. I can sit with D for a while—“

“No way. You couldn’t even walk yesterday.”

“And that was yesterday,” A says, patiently. “Give me an hour. If I don’t feel up to it, I’ll tell you.”

“Fine,” E says, too tired to fight with a suddenly chipper A. “But if you even seem slightly faint, it’s back to bed.”

——————

C is the next patient to raise alarms. Though their hacking cough has rendered them voiceless, they seem to be on the mend—vigorously pointing on things and writing messages on their notepad.

E, you look sick. C stabs the pointed message with their finger for emphasis.

E stifles a groan. “You’re one to talk. Drink your cough medicine.”

C accepts the shot of dark red syrup, but their eyes don’t leave B as they take it.

E meets A in the hallway, and before they can ask, A rattles off a report on B. “Fever’s still holding steady at 101.4. They’re miserable, but they’re not going to die. Gave them a cold washcloth, aspirin, and an extra blanket.”

“That’s….good work, A.”

A rolls their eye. “You’re not the only one who can play nurse.”

D is the final stop—they’re still in the roughest shape, feverish and mumbling incoherently, but A manages to soothe them with a cool hand to the forehead and some soft words. E adds another blanket to D’s bed and forces some more medicine into them, and D’s asleep in three minutes.

All patients accounted for, they leave D to rest. E’s about to tell—no, demand—that A goes back to bed, when a sudden dizzy feeling washes over them, and they grab the doorframe.

“E? You alright?”

“I…..I…” Suddenly, E can’t even form words, they just know they’re freezing, and they’re torn between keeping hold of the wall and wrapping their arms around themselves, get warm get warm get warm, and when they choose neither, their knees buckle and they crumple to the floor.

——————

The first thing E realizes, as A and C help them to sit on their bed, is that their sheets are crisp and clean. When was the last time they’d slept a full night in their bed?

“A, go….go to bed,” E rasps weakly through chattering teeth, huddling on the edge of the bed as A helps them into pajamas. “I’ll manage.”

“E, you can’t even keep your head up. Just let us help you change.”

E shudders weakly as their bare, feverish skin hits the chilly air, and A eases them under the covers, rubbing their back. “There you go. Nice and warm.” E leans into the touch, groaning softly, and they feel a thermometer poke under their tongue.

“103.6.”

E groans, pulling the blankets tighter. “I…I can’t be sick.”

“Hush.” A covers them with another blanket. “You took care of us, now let us take care of you.”

E is too feverish and cold and achy to protest, so they let them.