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itsa-me-lily · 16 days ago

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God I love this au, it's feeding me so good today. The last one with the part about only one bedroom has me thinking about a sick reader, the gross kind of sick where you're sweaty and wheezy and snotty, and the fact that if it were anyone else Simon would be quarantining them. But because it's his spouse, he wakes up to you nasally wheezing and mouth breathing while sprawled across him, and all he can think about is when you're due for your next round of medicine and if he needs to buy more tissues.

Sometimes love comes coated in mucus, and is reciprocated with an artificial cherry taste. Also do the guinea pigs have names and what do they look like?

I'm dying. This is the first ever ask I've ever gotten (that I recall) and I'm going to pass away. Also "sometimes love comes coated in mucus, and is reciprocated with an artificial cherry taste" that is such a good line, I'm apologizing in advance if I steal it.

Also warning for content of being sick, this is based off my last bout of plague.

Also Also Here's the Simon & Thimble playlist

Also Also Also Here's the Military Program Spouse AU masterlist

Bedsharing in general does not happen at first. (Now I want to percolate an idea about sharing the bed for the first time). You're way to use to having your own bed that sharing with someone means you're not sleeping easily and I think Simon would rather sleep with the guinea pigs in their cage than have another human being that close to him when he sleeps. (This was also not something he initially thought about when being told a spouse was to be picked)

So what's the solution? Obviously bunk beds! Kind of, sorta...okay not really but the look on Simon's face when you had suggested getting bunk beds had been entertaining. Who knew so much indignation could come through a medical mask. Really his eyebrows did so much talking.

With the dream of bunkbeds dashed, the next best solution was either two twin beds crammed into the bedroom with a bedside's worth of space between them, or a pull out couch. You managed to find a couch same day that didn't terribly clash with the artwork you have yet to hang up.

You two actually manage to come up with a schedule for who slept where. Obviously you'd get the bed when Simon was deployed, made no sense for you not to. And when he was home the bed was all his unless he was having a night that he knew he wasn't going to trust a deadbolt to keep monsters at bay. Then he made himself comfortable, TV playing low until he managed a few hours in the early morning before you try to leave a silently as you can for work.

(Funny thing, even if you aren't sharing a bed traditionally, you both most certainly have your own sides, along with bed stands that told two different stories)

The first time you get sick is when Simon is technically deployed. Well actually, the day he returns is the day you spike a 101.8 fever and work forces you to go home so you don't become a walking petri dish and expose the college kids that come into your office.

Once you're home you appease the little beasts demanding some sort of vegetal boon, change into the rattiest clothes you have, and then huddle under a staggering amount of blankets that have made their home on your bed. (Simon may have side eyed them when you first set them out, but you've seen the mountain he creates under them, you knew the magic of weighted blankets)

Sleep isn't peaceful, you hadn't broken out the Nyquil quite yet, but you do manage to drift off for a few hours. And then the coughing starts. It's the kind that's a bitch to deal with, dry and pushing your ribs to the limit with how often they can expand and contract. By the time Simon comes home you've steamed yourself twice, taken only a smidge over the recommended amount of cough suppressant, and slathered yourself with Vic's Vaporub. All in all, you were properly miserable.

You're in the kitchen, staring into the abyss of your over-steeping tea as if it will magically make you feel better if you only sell your soul to it, really a tempting offer, when the wheeks of the pigs announce that another person they know has arrived.

If Simon wasn't clued in that something was off at seeing you home before the end of your work day, the pungent smell of menthol would have been a dead give away. You're still communing with your tea when he knocks against the wall, pulling you out of the deal for your soul to meet him with bleary eyes and a flushed face.

You croak out a greeting that makes Simon wince in sympathy, though that's about all he really does. Simon doesn't really do pleasantries and doting probably wouldn't be the first word people use to describe him, so with your brain function reduced by an overflow of mucus and fever, the kitchen was rather silent.

Until you started coughing, face buried into the crook of your elbow to try to keep your contagion to a minimum and back bowing to nearly double you over. That drives Simon to action, coming to try to keep you up incase you collapse, grabbing your free arm.

When you feel him touch you, you try to pull away, shaking your head and finally finishing your bout, gasping a little as you try to daunting task of breathing and speaking to dissuade him from getting close lest he catches what you have. He clearly wasn't persuaded, hands clenching and unclenching like he simply wanted to pick you up and put you...somewhere.

How exactly Simon Riley would take care of you, he didn't know but he'd be damned sure to at least try. He'd been left to fend for himself while sick before and he didn't like the idea of you going through that. When it was clear that he wasn't going to just leave you to your suffering you relented enough to try to reach a compromise; if he'd be alright watching the pigs while you were sick that would be more useful than a nursemaid while you camped out on the couch.

That...that was something Simon could do. He'd watched how you took care of the boys, surely this was something he could do. And then his brain caught up to the rest of what you had said. There was no way he was going to let you sleep on some pull out couch, as nice as it was. Being Sick meant sleeping in a proper bed, on a mattress that didn't spend it's days folded up.

You tried to insist it was alright but he wouldn't listen to a word of it. Instead he practically herded you back to the bedroom, ignoring your murmurs of your abandoned hot beverage. He didn't lift you to plop you onto the bed itself but it was a near thing. He had to bribe you with the promise of a proper cup of tea for you to even lay your head on your pillow, eyes already heavy with the need for sleep. By the time he had actually made a cup you were out for the count, nasally mucus filled snores letting him know you hadn't perished in the time it took him.

The next few days were filled with mucus, the attempted escape of your lungs via coughing fits, and more Vics than the human body should be exposed to. And the entire time you insisted that you could fend for yourself. Simon didn't push to play nurse, but your tissues never ran out, a dose of medication was always ready on your bedside, and a warm cup of tea stood waiting for you after each nap, like a solider committed to his guard.

Edit;

I'm going to make a separate post for the guinea pigs, because honestly I'm torn on if they're based on my guinea pigs I used to have, or guinea pigs I'd want to have in the future

#military program spouse #cod #simon riley x reader #simon x reader #simon ghost riley #Simon x Thimble

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pinkslaystation · 8 months ago

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[Part 2] If I meant something to you.

toxic!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Here's part 1 hee hee hee hee Here's part 3 You believe Simon's changed his ways after your sister's engagement. After his actions, you still want him, but does he want you? Word Count: 3.6k

A half naked woman running out of Simon's flat? A surprise indeed it was.

You really thought he reciprocated the same feelings as you did at one point, for once in your life feeling as if someone truly did want you for you, but that fantasy had dried out, and it was clear Simon had no intentions with you.

Your replacement proved it.

Before you began to weep in front of the Brit again, you hurried to your flat door, rummaging through your sweatshirt pockets for your key, wanting to wallow back into a state of depression in the comfort in your own home.

Simon didn't follow you, instead he just leaned against his door frame, sexily might I add, intensely watching you clumsily rip out past receipts and snotty used tissues from your pockets. He wanted to say something, ask you how your day had been, even thought it just turned 9 A.M.

Then it hit you.

You think back to your previous steps. You woke up at 8:30, you read the texts from your sister, made yourself some coffee, which you definitely think had gone off, and left your home, feigning a state of happiness.

You didn't take your keys with you. They sat on your kitchen counter, almost like they were mocking you for being so careless.

Banging your head against the door, you curse, "Fuck's sake...."

You mentally note that this is probably one of the most humiliating scenes you've found yourself in, nearly as bad enough as your 18th birthday, when your parents congratulated your younger brother instead of you accidently.

Simon exhales a puff of smoke towards your direction, you were so fixed on trying to get inside, you didn't catch him lazily eyeing you whilst lighting a cigarette into his mouth.

"You...wanna come inside?" He asks nonchalantly, looking at the sky, avoiding your gaze as if to seem cooler than you.

"Why would I do that? I don't wanna know where that bitch has been..." You scoff, referring to the girl. You want to look away from him, but his blonde chest hair glistens in the sunlight, enticing you to follow his instructions. He's not even all military mode on you but you already find yourself acting submissive around his presence again.

He grunts, thinking about what to say next, "Well for starters, Francesca's no one...and, where else are ya gonna go?" The sarcasm is sharp in his voice.

So you were replaced by a Francesca.

"And listen love, face it, you need something from me, come in so we can talk. Can't guarantee we'll do a lot of talkin' though..." His words trails off, trying to convince you. Boy, is it working...

His eyebrows are raised, and he purposely flexes his still wet pecs.

Fuck it. You think, barging into his room, purposely bumping shoulders.

You finally enter Simon's room for the first time.

Simon wasn't completely heartless.

Yes, his childhood trauma resulted in his avoidant nature, ignoring his team in order to work alone on the field, disobeying his Captain to do what he'd deemed as best, and even ghosting you ever time you tried reaching out to you. What you didn't know though, was that Simon had given you his previous phone number, one he doesn't use anymore...

Late nights in his hospital bed led him trying to stalk you through Facebook, which no one your age uses by the way (don't tell him that), and every time his searches led him to nothing.

Had he not been so foolish, he would have manned up and straight up demanded you for your number. But he didn't, instead he told you he'd find you if he needed you, which was becoming more and more infrequent.

Yet here he lies, now clad in a loose black top and sweatpants, sitting across from you on his couch in his oddly empty room, hearing you out.

"'Kay so, your sister wants you at her engagement and you need a date, and you have no other friends but me, and you want me to be your fake date." He repeats back to you.

You hum, "For someone that didn't finish secondary school, you're quite smart."

Simon chuckles at the reciprocates banter, "And...what's in it for me?"

You scrunch your nose, "What?"

"What's in it for me." He enunciates his word, as if speaking to a baby, "What do I benefit from this?"

"Are you fuckin' for real, you've basically used me for your own pleasure, and you can't even fake a relationship in front of my family for like a couple of hours?"

You stand up, ready to leave, not willing to be disrespected again.

"Love, listen," Simon pulls on your arms, and you begin to notice the fresh scars decorating his forearms.

"Our relationship...platonic of course, it's like a business. You want something, you gotta work for it."

You're stunned, did he just insinuate that you were merely a business partner to you? Can this man be anymore of an ass, than he already is, reducing your relationship to a step below a 'situation-ship'.

"What possibly could I have that you need?"

"Yeah," he gruffs out, contemplating his decision, "not money 'cos I got more of that than you..."

He sits there in mock confusion, but you had a feeling he knew what he wanted from you the moment you spat out your request at his door earlier.

Before you try cursing him out again, your attention shifts to the ping from your phone, another unfamiliar number, but not from your sister.

10:32 A.M. ####:- Hey kiddo, how's life been treating you. ####:- Finally gotta a job? ####:- Can't wait to see you, your brother's been waiting to introduce you to his new girlfriend, good addition to the family this time I think. ####:- You're getting older now, unmarried and unemployed. Chop Chop.

Great, just a monthly reminder from your father that you've already been replaced by your brother's new fling for the week.

Now you really needed that date.

"I'll fuck you." You state.

Simon stares at your new found dominance, standing up to purposely look down at you and tower over you, disliking the sense of authority shifting between you two.

"Once again, dove."

"Just. Fuck. Me. Simon. Get this shit over with." You command.

Okay, now you actually felt used. Blackmailed into having sex with Simon, just for him to get what he wants really was the all time low for you. And you've hit rock bottom multiple times.

You wake up light-headed, in Simon's empty bed. The bedside table held a small note in messy handwriting and a singular key.

Headed out to the pub, got a spare key for your room. You better be out of there by the time I get back. Jesus, you got the hint.

You wonder why and where Simon got a spare key from, realising that this situation could have been rectified from the beginning, instead he basically coerced you into sex just to fulfill his needs.

Your mother would die if she knew what your life was like.

Walking back into your room, you shoot a text to Simon, your now fake date, informing him of the fool-proof plan you'd come up with.

As you rest on your couch, thinking about the future ahead of you, and your head unconsciously drifts to that dreaded question:

What if you hurt Simon like he's hurt you?

The next few days was filled with your evenings trying to explain the dynamics of your family to Simon and teaching him more about you.

"And what, they went to the theme park and just left you there? Ain't that borderline abuse?" He questions, a small guilty feeling arising in the pit of your stomach learning about how similar both of yours fucked childhood was like.

You shrug, used to being kicked to the curb. You stop yourself before making some remark that he has no right to act upset about your parents behaviour when he's acting no better.

You tell him your middle name, hell, you tell him the correct spelling of your first name, and you stare at him, embarrassed that this hunk has pounded at your core but doesn't even know the vowels in your name.

"And last week was my birthday if they ask, and you better tell them I celebrated it by going to the cinema with my friends." You inform him, hoping some of this information gets retained into his pea sized head.

Simon cringes, unaware of your birthday, recalling the numerous amount times you'd shot him a smile that day, urging at least one person to wish you a happy birthday. He cocks his head, "What friends?" before correctly himself, "I mean, names wise."

"....you gotta make them up."

Note to self: Make new friends.

The big day comes and you and Simon had driven to the venue of your sister's engagement party. Extravagant was an understatement. Anyone that would look at this event would assume your parents were millionaires, but they're not considering only 2 out of 3 children received trust funds.

You wore a sleek black dress with a slit by your right leg, and Simon matched with a clean black suit which, by the way, you paid for.

Though you would usually drink in his appearance, his recent brooding behaviour gnawed in your mind, so no matter how many smiles he sent your direction, they couldn't dispel the unease settling in your gut.

The first hour consisted of the pair of you awkwardly standing around, drinking numerous glasses of the finest champagne, with his broad arm hovering over your shoulder.

"Where's the family?" He asks eyeing every guy that even so glances your direction.

You shrug, glancing at your unread messages to your sister.

1:00 P.M. You:- hey :) made it, wru??? You:- looks very grand btw!! 1:29 A.M. You:- hello? where's ma? 1:37 A.M. You:- champagne's tastyyy You:- hi wru 1:59 A.M. You:- bruh did you rly invite me just to ignore me???

Simon winces at your phone, reminding himself to finally get your number so at least someone would reply to your messages.

"You made it!"

You both turn around at the chirpy voice, instantly locking eyes with your sister.

"Hey, you didn't read my texts, been here for an hour now." You question, as you're being pulled into a hug.

"Oh that was you? Sorry, I haven't saved you on my phone," she laughs. You glance at Simon almost offended by that, even though you hadn't saved her number either.

"Introduce me to the big guy!" She nudges you, and Simon interrupts you before you open your mouth.

"Lieutenant Simon Riley, and uh- also boyfriend." He extends his arm, and you can't tell whether he's faking his grin or not.

She drags his forearms, yanking him away from you and ushering him along eagerly., "You need to meet my family, come come!", as they walk off together, and you find yourself standing there, left to socialise with someone else.

At 3 P.M., you navigate yourself to your family and your 'boyfriend', whom at this point, had really seemed to fit in with the community. Your father hadn't believed that you scored a buff military commander, and if he wasn't unhappily married to your mother, you'd bet 10 quid that he'd be all over Simon.

"Served in Afghanistan huh?" He chuckles boisterously.

"Yes sir." Simon actually looks like he's having fun, displaying the look of admiration for having an almost father-like figure in his life. He begins you question why you dislike your family so much, they're great!

"And you watch football lad?" He pats Simon on his back.

"Avid fan, sir."

Your father shakes Simon's hand, immediately surprised by his firm grip, "Good man. Don't let go of this one, love." He nods towards you, his smile twitching at Simon, who's basically gripping the bones through his wrist.

You force a smile hugging into your boyfriend's side, shouldn't he be saying that to your Simon, rather than you? I mean it's either your biological daughter you've sort of brought up her entire life versus a solider you've known for about an hour.

"Son, take some notes from your sister, no wonder you're single every other day." Your father reprimands your brother, who flinches from the sudden sound of disapproval and grips his girlfriend's forearm tighter. For sure the first time you're actually than him, at finding a better fake partner.

Your mother, on the other hand, was virtually glued to the other side of Simon, gripping his biceps and fawning over his muscles to your brother, who's actually looked like the only one who saw through your facade.

"Wow, you must really enjoy the gym, sweetie." She bags her eyes, disgustingly.

"Yes ma'am."

She addresses you, for what you think was the first time in over a year, and mouths sternly, "I was wrong, I approve."

The entire event was a drag to you, something you weren't used to at all, considering the majority of your childhood was mainly you being left home during such big events, but Simon managed to enjoy the evening whilst successfully lying to your entire family.

"Me and the missus have been together for 10 months now. She's very happy." He raises his glass to you, eliciting a genuine smile from you. It was times like this that you wished that you and Simon just tied the knot and just began dating. However, you couldn't ignore those underlying feelings of a simmering anger, a desire to confront him publicly for using you for so long.

"I am..." It sounds more like a question than a reply, kissing him, in mock affection.

"You need to stay over our place, Simon darling," Your mother gleams, with your father agreeing, "You can stay in the study!"

"You mean my old bedroom?"

It's midnight, and your family have finally fell asleep in the place you once called home.

You lay next to Simon on your old bed, inspecting your previous room. The walls were no longer painted your favourite colour, but now was coated in a dull grey, your desk now replaced by a vintage looking oak table, definitely all to accommodate your father's taste. Any speck of 'you' had been wiped out from the room, and Simon wonders what young you was like.

"That was very fun...I like 'em, your family." He whispers almost inaudibly, fatigue evident in his words. His arm is draped comfortably around your neck, your head resting in the nook of his armpit.

You hum. The unfamiliar attention Simon had brought up on the two of you exhausted you, though a small part of you liked it, that now your mother actually cared about what you got up with him on a daily basis.

"Simon..." You begin, "What- what are we? If anything..."

You're anticipating his rejection.

"Neighbours..." He mouths silently.

You nod at him, hoisting yourself up on your elbows, although his eyes are closed.

"Simon. It's just that. I know it's all a show...but today it didn't feel like pretend...And when you said you wanted to marry me to my mum, it's just, I don't know, didn't feel fake you know. Felt real..Simon...Simon?"

He snores in response.

Great. You're just confessing to the thin air.

If he doesn't take you out, socialising for almost 9 hours straight will. You pass out next to him, no longer under his arm. Simon lays next to you, watching the slow rise of fall of your chest, after faking a snore.

He stares at the ceiling thinking about the day.

Come morning, and you find yourself sitting at the dining table next to Simon, who'd found himself in a hearty conversation with your parents, sister and future brother in law.

Across from you is your brother, whom you're sure didn't fall for your ruse.

His expression reveals concern as he gazes at you, almost as if he's silently urging you to unravel the tangled web of lies you've woven.

With a swift motion, he picks up his phone, arching an eyebrow in your direction, just as your phone chimes with a notification.

9:12 A.M. ####:- ik you two aren't dating. ####:- better fess up before i do

He smirks at you, your expression mirrors one of close defeat.

9:13 A.M. You:- ik you mad that she cheats on you every friday. You:- better check her private 2nd insta account before i do

Your brother looks up, hesitant to curse you out in front of everyone.

You 1, your brother 0.

Breakfast was served at this time you actually got the same amount of food as your siblings did, although Simon beat all 3 of you for it. Even though your sister was celebrating her engagement, the entire conversation was stuck on you and Simon.

Credits to your parents, because you were actually learning things about Simon, and you wonder if he thinks you're self-obsessed given that you've forced every fact about you down his throat and you haven't even given a minute for him.

"...and my Captain John Price, great guy. She loves him actually." He nudges you, breaking you from your trance.

"Huh."

Everyone on the table turn to you as Simon rubs your knee softly.

"OH. Um, yeah. Mr Price, John, um, great guy, handsome and so hot. Love him. The best really."

As you stumbled over your words, trying to cover up the slip, Simon gave you a reassuring squeeze on your knee. His eyes conveyed a silent message, telling you that it was okay and that they didn't catch you in a lie.

Your brother, however, shot you a knowing look, his expression a mix of amusement and annoyance. It was clear that he had caught onto your the slip up.

"Alright, enough about work," your mother interjected, steering the conversation away from Simon's military life. "Let's talk about something more fun. Like the wedding!"

The topic shifted to your sister's upcoming wedding, and you found yourself for once engaged in a lively discussion with your family about venues, dresses, and guest lists. Simon chimes in, his comments light-hearted and filled with humor.

As the breakfast progressed, you couldn't shake off the feeling of guilt gnawing at you. Your brother's text had reminded you that you were deceiving your family, and although it had started as a harmless ruse, it was beginning to feel like a weight on your shoulders.

After the meal, you and Simon got ready to depart, and as Simon and the rest of your family went to his car, you stood back at the front door, watching how perfect Simon fit in with them.

"It's obvious you don't like him."

You turn to the voice: your brother.

Your groan, "You again? Can't you just leave me alone, God's sake..."

"Aren't you a 'lil worried about how easily he lies though?" he taunts, "how'd you get him here? Money? Or you hold him over a secret? Maybe...sex?"

"What's your problem? Can't you just be happy I'm with someone?" You step back from him.

"Of course I am, if he doesn't like who, who else will, no? I'm just looking out for you bro. It's not gonna last, take it from someone who's in and out of relationships like your guy's in and out of other women."

You squint your eyes at him, confused.

"Grace, Josie, Francesca..." he trails off walking slowly towards the rest of the group. Francesca? That name rings a bell...

"Word of advice, don't leave your phone out in the open, I mean the amount of nudes on there, you'd think his gallery was a porn site! And without a password? Didn't know you were into whores, sis." He cackles.

And here you thought the trip had altered the dynamic.

The ride home was 2 hours too long and too silent. You contemplated your next move. Do you beat around the bush or straight up ask him if he's still seeing other people behind your back? You know he doesn't owe you anything, he is your FAKE boyfriend, right? But, why did it feel so real?

"So..." he starts.

You rest your head on the window, "So..."

His hand moves to your thigh, squeezing gently before moving towards your core slowly.

"That was fun." He states.

You hum.

"Real cool family, huh."

You hum once again, unsure what to say.

"We should do that again..."

You look at him confused.

"Are you serious? I think they still think that they have 2 kids, they focused on you the entire time-"

"Well, it's not like you put in much effort to talk, love."

That shuts you up.

He sighs at your silence, "Listen, I've been thinking."

You glance at him, hoping he'd kick you out of his car and let you walk the rest of the way home, too ashamed to be in his vicinity.

"Your parents were hinting us to take the next move you know..."

"Neighbours to friends?" You question.

He laughs, "Your family's great, your sister's and her lad, real cute couple you know, I felt at home...so I was thinking...we should try it you know, going out I guess."

You scrunch your face at him, was he really convinced into asking you out because your parents asked him? And here you were, months of trying to hint to wanting more, and the moment your demanding parents butt in, he's just going to do what they say? And the fact that he couldn't even say the word relationship.

Who the fuck does he think he is?

You cross your arms in annoyance. You were tired of being pushed around like a doormat.

Your brother's words ring through your head, as Simon drives.

It's not gonna last, take it from someone who's in and out of relationships like your guy's in and out of other women.

All the signs point towards rejecting his proposal. He doesn't want you, he just wants the safest route. You being in a relationship with him isn't going to stop him fucking other women.

Why would you waste your time with a guy to whom you meant nothing to?

So you decide to give it to him directly.

"Yes. I'll be your girlfriend."

Thank you all so much for the interactions on part 1! Means a lot :D THERE WILL BE A PART 3 LMAOOO i did not intend for this fic to be long but here we are. lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum, @kxtz3, @poohkie90, @rainlovesyou12, @restrictionsapply, @lunamoonbby, @nigthmar3moon, @thychuvaluswife, @itsnourm, @bubusi11, @owkittie

#call of duty #cod #simon riley #simon angst #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost angst #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost #ghost cod

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sc0tters · 1 year ago

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His Home | Adam Fantilli

summary: it’s Adam’s birthday and his debut in the NHL, little does he know you’re there watching

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, oral (fem receiving), swearing.

word count: 3.07k

authors note: welcome back to what I like to call, kei told me not to behave (soft edition?). I’m kidding (sorta) this is a really different to what I usually write because it had a bit of angst in it? The first bit of regular italics are from the Adam birthday video that the bluejackets did and the second is a regular flashback!

It was the clip Adam loved rewatching the most.

You were sat in your dorm in his hoodie and his hat (a detail that only he would pick up on) as you smiled “hey baby!” You smiled as you looked at your phone “now I’ve tried redoing this like eight times now.” You confessed letting out a little laugh.

The picture of Adam on draft night that you had taken after you two snuck out to Dairy Queen stared back at you “I keep on crying and you really don’t need to see me get all snotty again.” You shook your head as the pile of tissues on your bed was beginning to build.

Adam couldn’t help but stare at you in awe as you nervously thought about what it was that you wanted to say “point is I’m so proud of you for getting this far.” You two started dating in October of freshman year and you swore you’d kill him before he broke up with you with before trying long distance “I miss you and I love you.” You confessed wiping your cheek as another tear fell.

As you sucked at your cheek smiling unaware that Adam was doing the same thing “you’re gonna smash it tonight, so happy birthday and play your little heart out there.”

You brought your fingers up to your lips “I’m so proud of you my star.” The video ended as your kissed fingers pressed against the camera ending the video like you did all of your FaceTime calls that you had with him.

Honestly Adam was surprised that he wasn’t sick of that video anymore with the amount of times that he had replayed it “sorry she can’t be here tonight.” Kent knew how upset Adam was that you were unable to make it to his first game.

What was the actual twist of the knife was that you hadn’t responded to anything on all platforms and went as far as to turn your locations off on everything “I just don’t remember making her mad.” Adam sighed as he frowned looking at his lock screen that was a picture of you two in front of the yost one evening.

You were in your Fantilli jersey and he had his arms wrapped around you as he kissed your head “she’s probably just stressed with that class you said she was taking.” Kent shrugged trying to keep a straight face.

The whole team had come together to plan this. The only thing that could possibly be making you stressed right now was the fact that you were trying to not get caught in Columbus.

Yes, the boys convinced you to change around some things as they felt like you being there was the birthday and debut gift that money truly couldn’t buy “I guess you’re right.”

Thankfully for you, Adam never noticed that you were there as you sat far away from his parents and family.

The game ended in a win and Adam was even able to get some points on the board so it was safe to say that you were all excited about more than just the win.

Wanting to give him some time with his family you stayed hidden for a bit mainly getting to know more of his teammates “you know he’s clueless about this right?” Kent smiled as he saw the excited look on your face.

Adam knew it probably sounded terrible but as he listened to his dad’s opinions about the game he couldn’t help it as his eyes wondered off to find you.

His brain hoped that by some divine act you were actually there.

And that was when he saw you.

Well not you, actually the top of your head “shut up!” Adam let out a gasp causing you to turn around in his direction.

Both of you had grins on your faces and tears forming in your eyes “w-what are you doing here?” He asked quickly pushing past people to making sure that he wasn’t dreaming.

As your flowery perfume pushed into his nostrils he knew that you were really there “couldn’t not be here tonight.” You mumbled holding your arms out as he pulled you into a hug.

Usually you would have groaned at how sweaty he was but today you just loved feeling him against you “happy birthday my love.” You smiled looking up at him before you placed a kiss on the hockey players lips “how long are you here for?” The hockey player wanted you there for as long as possible “fly out on Sunday my love.” So that basically meant that you had three whole days with him as well as another game to watch.

At this point the cameras had turned away wanting to give you and Adam the moment in private or at least as private as it could be for being stood out in the open “go get showered and then we can all catch up.” Julia proposed looking at her son as she wrapped her arm around you.

You had gotten to know his parents over the summer and nothing made them happier than seeing the smile on their sons face whenever he looked at you.

So you knew that you were going to sound bad when you thought about this because as fun as it was getting to catch up with Adam’s family and watch him smile as he interacted with his parents.

What you truly wanted was to be with him on the couch talking like you used to.

The Michigan air was cold around Ann Arbor but that wasn’t something you and Adam were complaining about.

No instead you two were comfortably on the couch in your dorm as your roommate was in a class “what are you thinking about?” Adam smiled as he realised that you were staring at him.

His thumb massaged your hip as his baggy basketball shorts left the area of your skin exposed “I’m gonna miss these moments with you.” You confessed as you two loved being on top of each other on the tiny two seater couch.

Before a frown could form on your lips as the thought of the draft came along Adam brought his face closer to yours “the draft is a long way away baby.” The hockey player cooed “so for now let’s enjoy this.” He added pressing his lips against yours.

So as the Uber let you two out at the door of Adam’s apartment building you couldn’t help but smile as you grew excited “are you guys sure you don’t want to come up for a bit?” Adam looked at his family members in the car as he wrapped his hand around you “you two should go have fun.” Julia clearly didn’t mean it in the way that flashed through your mind but it still made you smile as you send her a nod.

You two watched the car drive off before you turned to make your way into the building “can’t believe that you’re truly here.” Adam mumbled pressing a kiss onto your head as he took in the familiar scent of your shampoo.

His hand slid lower now resting on your ass that he gave a squeeze “Adam!”

You squealed jumping as you walked into the elevator.

That resulted in a laugh from the boy who quickly joined you before the doors shut “you can’t blame me for missing you.” His words were true as he locked his hands on either side of you “thought about you all day.” Adam confessed hovering his lips over yours.

A smile formed on your face “I did too,” as you leaned up to kiss him the doors opened causing an awkward meeting for you two with an elderly couple “I’m gonna need to you walk in front of me.” The hockey player‘s whisper sent shivers down your spine as you looked down to see that he was hard.

Trying to keep the giggle from leaving your lips you nodded adjusting yourself so that you could walk in front of Adam who now had one hand on your waist and the other carrying your bag “have a good night.” You sent the couple a smile as the boy forced you out of there as quickly as he could.

You looked to Adam with a teasing look on your face “you got a little problem?” You joked seeing that nobody was in the hallway.

Adam scoffed as he shook his head “not only is this your fault but it also isn’t little.” The boy corrected you as he stopped in front of his door “let me get your keys.” You smirked dropping your hand into his pocket.

If he could tell what you were trying to do then Adam was being a good sport for putting up with it “those aren’t my keys.” He warned as you palmed his dick between the fabric of his pocket and his boxers “I know.” You pressed a kiss against his ear before you pulled his keys out quickly unlocking the door to his apartment.

There was a spilt second before Adam practically pushed you both into the apartment “someone’s needy.” You teased watching as he dropped your bag pressing the door shut with his hand before he made a beeline for you “I know.” Adam repeated your words as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

Giving you a small moment to bring your hands to his neck before he kissed you. You two finally had that moment you had longed for where he could kiss you properly.

His tongue fought with yours as there was no longer the need to behave as someone was watching “fuck,” you moaned feeling his hands cup your ass “jump baby.” Adam didn’t need to tell you for a second time as your legs locked around his waist.

The walk to his room was short, not that either of you truly would have cared because you two were just enjoying the feeling of each others lips “god I’ve missed this.” The hockey player cooed dropping your body onto his bed.

You smiled up at him as he joined you on his bed still wanting to soak in the taste of your lips.

Sure it was etched into his brain but that didn’t mean that Adam wasn’t feeling this sense of being high each time he got to feel your lips against his skin “Adam,” you whined as his hands ran over your waist.

His smile was clear as he pecked your lips one final time “I wanna taste you baby.” Adam shook his head as your hand brushed over his cock.

You tried to protest “it’s your birthday,” you pointed out as you simply wanted to make him feel good “and all I want to do is taste that pretty cunt of yours.” Adam shot back as he shifted down his bed.

Adam hooked his fingers in the waist band of your pants “you look so fucking good today.” The hockey player gushed as he was met with the sight of your lace panties “you knew you were gonna get fucked tonight didn’t you?” The Canadian smirked as he let your panties slide down your legs.

Your head bobbed as you nodded “please A,” you pleaded grabbing at his sheets as Adams breath fanned your cunt.

To say that you were soaked was an understatement as even in his dimly lit room Adam could still see the way that your pussy glistened “gonna make you feel so fucking good tonight.” The hockey players voice was shaky before his tongue ran up your slit settling on your clit.

It was like he was starving at the way he locked his hands around your thighs “shit Adam!” You cried bringing your hand down to his hair gripping onto his locks.

His eyes caught yours as you drove your hips into his face desperate to get off in that very moment.

His tongue swirled around your sensitive nub as he brought his fingers to your soaked cunt “god I’ve missed this,” the vibrations of his laugh sent shivers up your spine as your body shook.

Sure phone sex was a thing but this was a whole new level.

After weeks of not being able to get off through phone sex as your fingers and the sound of Adam’s voice could only do so much.

You were now getting exactly what you wanted “I’m gonna come,” you groaned scrunching your face as your body shook.

Adam nodded as you clenched around his fingers “let go baby.” He smiled lapping up your release as he was reminded how much he missed this.

But just like usual Adam didn’t slow down his movements as you rode his face through your orgasm “n-no A,” you shook your head trying to bring your body up and off of the bed.

His smirk was clear as he continued sucking you clit “baby,” you whined literally pulling his head up as you kissed his lips.

Tasting your release on his tongue made you squirm “you taste so sweet.” Adam groaned as your cunt rubbed against his clothed dick “baby I’m gonna come and I gotta do it in you.” He grunted as you nodded.

It took him seconds to undo his pants as you pulled his jersey over your head leaving you in your bra “god you’re gorgeous.” The hockey player smiled as he grabbed the condom from his wallet.

After you two were caught up after a big game with no condom Adam now had one that lived in his wallet for whenever you two would need it.

Before Adam could rip the wrapper open you had your hands capturing it so that you could wrap it around his cock “don’t tease me baby.” The hockey player warned bringing his hand to your head as you kitten licked the tip of his cock.

His precum oozed out of his swollen tip as you looked up at him with a smile “giving you everything you want tonight.” You mumbled pushing the condom over his cock as you kissed his lips swallowing his moan in the process.

Slowly Adam’s knees sink into the mattress as he comes down to your level “I just want you tonight.” His confession made your heart burst with love and pride “you have me Adam.” You nodded watching as he pressed his hands against your shoulders softly pushing you against the mattress.

Adam let his lips start at yours showing you an immense amount of love before he moved them to your cheek then to your jaw.

His journey slowly continued to your neck “A-Adam!” Your voice shook as your eyes screwed shut.

It made him smile as he pressed a kiss to each of your breasts “I want to take my time with you.” The hockey player cooed rubbing his fingers in your hips as he kissed your stomach “Adam please.” The desperation in your voice made him smile as he stopped.

The boy moved up to the point where his head stood just above yours “I love you baby.” Adam mumbled pressing his forehead against yours as his free hand drove his cock over your clit before he let it slide into your cunt.

You both gasped as the familiar feeling came over you both “this cunt feels like it did just back then.” Adam let out a grunt as you nodded “please move.” You begged making him smile.

He listened to you beginning to slowly bring his hips away from you before he brought them back to yours “you feel so good.” The Canadian cooed as you lifted your legs up to wrap around his waist like it was on instinct.

Like usual he was always so vocal “don’t stop,” you pleaded leaning forward to kiss his lips.

Adam almost collapsed at your neediness “god you’re out of this world.” Your cunt clenched around his cock at those words.

The moment was soft, it seemed that you two weren’t interested in having hot and steamy sex tonight. Not when you had missed the simple sheer contact that you two were having now “so full.” You blurted out as you swore that his cock had grown as it hit parts of you had it had never seen.

The hockey player didn’t think that he was going to last long as you continued to drive your hips against his “I love you.” You cried as his hand found its way between your bodies landing on your clit “this cunt was made for me.” Adam groaned as you nodded “all for you.” You agreed as you kissed him.

It was needy as Adam’s thrusts grew staggered at the way you clenched around his cock “I’m not gonna last,” Adam confessed as he shook his head “me neither,” you cried as the pressure on your clit increased.

It made your eyes shut as the coil in your stomach threatened to snap “love those noises.” The hockey player felt his head drop against your shoulder.

The sound of your whimpers hit the walls making Adam sure that he was going to get an awkward knock on the door tomorrow from his neighbour “right there oh-” your voice broke as pleasure pulsed through your body.

It made you shake against him as your hands locked in his hair “so so good,” you groaned gasping for air as white specks painted the backs of your eye lids.

Adam’s orgasm came right after yours making you both sweat as you came down from your highs “you okay?” The hockey player asked as his hands brushed your hair out of your face.”

You nodded with a smile “yep.” You watched him throw the condom away in the trash can next to his bed before you made grabby hands wanting him to come back to you “I want a cuddle.” Your confession made him laugh.

Of course Adam listened as he held his hands out to you “happy birthday baby.” You mumbled as you lay your head against his chest.

The boy smiled as he ran his fingers through your hair “thanks for making my birthday one to remember.” He cooed enjoying how this felt.

With you in his arms he knew that one thing was sure.

Home for Adam wasn’t a tangible place, it wasn’t a rink or his childhood home.

His home was right here, you were his home.

#adam Fantilli smut #adam fantilli imagines #adam fantilli x reader #nhl oneshots #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #hockey smut #nhl smut #imagines #oneshots #amber writes fics

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snzymae · 5 months ago

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having thoughts of a couple in bed sharing an absolutely miserable head cold. They’re both propped up with pillows to watch movies or try to read, even though their heads are stuffed full of aching congestion. There’s a full box of tissues between them and steaming mugs of tea on their respective bedside tables. It’s day 3 of this cold, their symptoms are the worst they’ve been since both of them came home from work with scratchy throats two days before. They can’t even snuggle up to each other, as they’re both too warm from their fevers.

I’m thinking of them lying together in silence, only it’s not silence, because there is no respite from their cacophony of symptoms. When one sneezes, the other’s coughing. When one blows their nose, the other launches into a fit of hitching and sneezing. There’s a constant sound of one or both of them sniffling. On more than one occasion, they let out a snotty sneeze at the same time, and can’t help but think that this misery of cold symptoms will never end.

#snz #colds #snz scenario #snzblr

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popponn · 1 year ago

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i didn't expect to see a future with you.

summary: it began as another fun and beneficial thing to have. until suddenly, it was about wanting ‘you and him for a very long time’. (in other words, he really didn’t mean to fall for you. really.)

characters: kaiser, reo, nagi.

notes: i tried to write about l word without mentioning it once. i hope i manage to get them right, this is my first time writing reo and kaiser especially. warning: relationships that started as casual and unserious, gacha at nagi's part. i really like fall later and harder troupe recently...

kaiser

months ago, if kaiser knew you got a fever, he would type a message of ‘get well soon’ without much meaning behind it along with a few extra sentences just to charm it all up. he would just cancel the date the two of you were supposed to be having and do anything else. practice, review his performance, or hell maybe have a different date and have fun with someone else. it was written all over the place, how this thing between you and him were anything but serious. he would never ask for your care, therefore he wouldn’t give you anything other than ‘the fun’ either.

and yet, here he sat on your bedside, porridge in hand like a nagging nanny because a moronic idiot—you—thought it was smart to walk through a storm instead of calling him or someone to pick you up. the thought of relationships and definitions and such as became the furthest thing in his mind the moment you called him with your slurred voice. you, being a helpless mush that could only wrap yourself with a blanket, couldn’t exactly protest to both his presence and harsh words. kaiser certainly didn’t shy away from calling you names—incompetent fool, being one of the tamer ones—the moment he arrived at your bedroom with medicines.

after cursing you and your useless outdated static of a brain, kaiser ushered you into the bed as he searched through your cabinets and ordered foods for your empty stomach. under the haze of your fever, you apologized to him and thank him. kaiser just gave you another comment about being stupid and baited a laugh from you. it was raspy and uglier than usual, but kaiser thought it would suffice. then, like a noisy sickly chatterbox, you asked why he choose you instead of his ‘anything else’.

“…it’s because I’m not an idiot,” Michael Kaiser replied to you after a long moment of silence. His back was turned towards you, the tone in his voice unshaken and flat, yet undeniably honest. “I know what I want.”

Your head throbbed painfully not truly understanding what he meant. But for him, you pushed out a chuckle, “’s that so, Michael…?”

“Do you even know what you are saying?” he shot back, his blurry figure walking closer towards you. As the view of his profile became clearer, you realized how you couldn’t quiet put a name on his expression. “Just rest up, you big baby.”

reo

as cruel as it was to say this, reo didn’t exactly begin with seeing you as a ‘person’. to him, you were more of the embodiment of ‘momentary excitements, rest, and escapism’. somewhere for him to have fun without thinking much, a someone who he could interact without any law of cause and effect following him. reo was certain you too saw him the same way. the two of you were a ‘why not?’ that could and would end like a passing breeze. it was nice, but it wouldn’t last long.

then, slowly came the late night chats, the voice notes filled with mundane things and lame jokes. afterwards, long talks about both anything and nothing followed. you came to his match, you were introduced to his teammates, you were a presence that was almost became a constant in every hour reo spent awake. and reo knew more than anyone else that he didn’t hate it when he watched you cry uglily at a movie he didn’t bother to pay attention to. in a way, he knew he was gone.

snotty and messy, your hand blindly reached around his sofa for a box of tissues. reo couldn’t take his eyes away from you as he laughed lightly and pushed the tissues towards you. hearing his chortles, you threw your cold feet towards his lap. you were looking at him with a pissed off questioning look whilst reo could only think how he could do this everyday.

“Is it even that sad?” Mikage Reo asked, teasing even when he slowly shifted your legs to comfortably rest on his lap. When the ‘pissed off’ look on your face intensified, Reo wondered if you would let him took a photo. For what, he didn’t exactly know either, but he certainly would be happy if you would let him.

“It’s about him finally realizing what he should have done, Reo!” you said, as if it answered everything. Reo could only chuckle—because perhaps it did. “Stop laughing! I didn’t laugh the last time you cried at that lame movie!”

He pushed himself closer towards you, a smile that felt like it wouldn’t die down plastered itself on his face. As the space between the two of you disappeared and you slotted yourself on his side like a piece long gone, he leaned his head against yours and didn’t stop himself from wrapping a hand on your shoulder. Still with a feeling he would soon said out loud to you, Reo continued to laugh merrily, “Come on, don’t say that. Here, here, let me wipe off those tears.”

nagi

the two of you started as a pair of gaming buddies simply because he found you funny and became what was pretty much ‘maybe-dating by convenience but still play together every now and then’ because one of his nosy sponsors who would love nagi to date his daughter. you were not troublesome, you did not ask much from nagi, you did not disturb his soccer career, and you seemed to like choki a lot. nagi didn’t exactly understand why you ‘date’ him, but if the comments from his friends were anything to go by, he supposed whatever reason you had were not terrible for him in any way.

the two of you sometimes hang around his room. usually it because you wanted to pull a gacha character and demanded nagi’s hands for luck. nagi didn’t exactly get it, but it wasn’t rare for you to made an interesting expression depending on what you got, so he supposed it was entertaining in a way. and each time the two of you did this, he also found it was fun to sit beside you and had you grab his hand for ‘luck’.

then the sunset came through from the window that day and you grabbed his hand yet again. suddenly, nagi found it unsurprising for him to remember every contour and corner of your hand. his eyes were trained on your face, watching you focusing on your phone screen and it felt like seeing you for the first time. when he intertwined your fingers with his as you cheered, it felt natural.

“Did you get her?” Nagi Seishirou leaned his weight towards you, letting the bed tilted along with him. He let you held his hand tighter as you too pressed your side to him. A grin that was bright and messy plastered itself on your face and Seishirou thought it suited the color of sunset. “You get her, huh? Yay.”

You were still buzzing with joy and excitement, your other hand reaching over him to hug his head to your chest. “Thank you! Thank you! Sei, I owe you!”

“Owe me, huh…?” Seishirou tried his best to think of a respond, but honestly all he could think of was how pleasant it was to be hugged by you, even if you probably weren’t thinking much of the action. Perhaps he really was as lucky as you had stated through big words and stressed intonations. As he returned your hug, Seishirou said, “Then, can I ask something for my payment?”

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widowsistersandfriends · 4 months ago

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Cheer Up, Dear

Request: I'd love it to be x reader, maybe girlfriend or partner reader to be specific? I'd really be happy with any plot, but some ideas would maybe be Agatha cheering the reader up from a bad day, accidental t words or a t word game if that makes sense? Maybe all 3 combined? It's honestly up to you, thank you so much!! (ler!Agatha x lee!Reader)

Note: Thank you so much for this request!! This is my first time writing for Agatha, so I hope I portrayed her well. This was an adorable idea and I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1448

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You had just gotten back from a long day of work. Normally you loved your job and enjoyed working with your patients. However, today felt like the longest day in your life. Every patient was rude and hostile towards you. Despite doing your best to remain professional, it was still very draining.

You flopped onto your bed, taking some time to decompress. The comments you received that day played back in your head. You tried to think about something else, but your mind just kept wandering.

You heard a soft knock at the door, as Agatha, your girlfriend, asked if she could come in.

You went over and opened the door for her, silently leading her over to your bed.

You laid face down, as Agatha gently rubbed your back, knowing that you had been crying. You softly sniffled into your pillow.

“I’m here if you want to rant,” Agatha soothed quietly.

You wiped away some snot and turned your head to face your girlfriend.

“Everyone was so mean today, and it wasn’t even standard rudeness,” you explained.

“What do you mean?” Agatha inquired.

“I was told to go back to my home country, I was called a nurse when I’m a doctor, and all these old men kept calling me sweetie and asking me to be their wife,” you ranted, wiping tears from your eyes.

“Is that all I’m seen as? Some person to flirt with even though I’m at work and in a professional setting? Why don’t my male colleagues get this same treatment?” You said angrily.

Agatha continued to rub your back before responding.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that. You are a highly skilled and educated individual that deserves respect from those you are helping. But I will say, unfortunately this is something you’ll have to experience in the field you work in. There are some people out there who are racist and sexist and will think of you as less than your peers,” Agatha stated.

“But what am I supposed to do? I’m supposed to remain professional and still give them the highest standard of care. Even if they don’t deserve it…” you trailed off.

“While you should remain professional and do your job, I suggest you focus on the positive comments that you get. Think about all the comments that you get from people who you've helped. The ones who say ‘thank you, you saved my life’ or ‘I appreciate you taking care of me,” Agatha said.

“I know, it’s just that the rude comments are more rare, so they stick with me longer,” you sighed.

“It’s completely valid to feel upset since you were disrespected. It’s a hard field to work in, and on top of that with rude patients, but I promise you that you will make a strong impact in this world. Continue to work hard, and good things will come back to you,” Agatha said, as you nodded to show you understood what she said.

“Thank you, Agatha,” you said, wiping your nose with the tissues she had gotten you.

“You feeling any better?” Agatha asked softly.

“Hmm, maybe,” you said, while slyly wiping your snotty tissue on her arm.

Agatha yelped and quickly reached out to snatch the tissue from you, as you quickly dodged her hand. She grabbed for it, but missed. Instead she ended up grabbing your side, which now made you yelp.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Agatha apologized.

“What?” You asked, confused at her sudden apology.

“Did I hurt you?” Agatha asked.

“Oh what no, you’re fine,” you said quickly.

“Then why did you yelp?” Agatha asked with concern.

“I…ummmm, just didn’t expect it,” you said shakily.

“Is that the reason? Or is it because you’re ticklish?” Agatha asked with an evil grin, reaching out to squeeze your side again, getting the same reaction as before.

“Baby!! Stahahap!” You giggled, pushing her away.

“I think you need some cheering up, don’t you agree darling?” Agatha teased, quickly using her magic to pin your arms above your head.

You shook your head in fear, not wanting to give in to her tickling.

“Can I see that smile?” Agatha asked, as you shook your head again.

“Well alrighty I guess we have to do it the hard way,” Agatha said, smirking down at you.

You struggled against her powers, but knew you were no match for your impending doom.

“Come on, let me see that smile,” Agatha said while grinning, as she began to lightly tickle your sides.

You immediately held your breath, struggling to squirm away from her teasing nails.

“It’s okay to laugh baby,” Agatha cooed, spidering her fingers a little faster.

You let out a snort, pressing your lips together tighter.

“You wanna play the hard way? Fine, I will too,” Agatha said, as she quickly moved her hands up to tickle your ribs, causing you to squeal.

“Was that a little squeal I heard?” Agatha gasped, as you tried to clamp your mouth shut. Agatha knew she was close to getting you to break.

“How about if I do this?” Agatha questioned, as she leaned down to blow a raspberry on your belly.

“AHHH STAHAHAHAP,” you screamed, trying to kick her.

“AWWW there’s that smile and laugh I’ve been waiting for!” Agatha exclaimed, now reaching down to squeeze your hips.

“NOHOHOT THEHEHERE AHAHAHA PLEHEHEASE,” you begged, shutting your eyes in ticklish agony.

“Tickle tickle tickle my little ticklish lee,” Agatha cooed, grinning the entire time.

“IHIHIM NOHOT A LEHEHEHEE,” you cried out.

“Oh yeah? Wanna bet?” Agatha asked, reaching up to tickle your armpits.

“NO! DOHOHONT YOU DAHAHAHAHARE! STAHAHAHAP IHIHIT!” You screamed, desperately pulling at your arms.

“Oh my, I think I’ve found your worst spot, dear,” Agatha said, digging her thumbs in to make your laughter go silent.

“Oh no! Where did your laugh go? We better find it again,” Agatha said, pondering on where to tickle you next.

She scooted down and sat on your legs.

“Are your feet ticklish?” She asked.

“NO!” You blurted out, before dissolving into more laughter, as she attacked your feet.

“PLEHEHEASE AGATHA THIS IHISNT FAHAHAIR!” You cried, as your legs and feet wiggled frantically.

She slowed her tickling and got off of you, only to begin lightly dragging her nails over your shins, causing you to gasp.

“Ohohoho my gohohod thahahahat tihihihickles,” you squealed.

“You’re just so ticklish, aren’t you?” Agatha teased, now giving your knees some squeezes.

She slowly released her magical hold on you, allowing you to move your entire body, except for your arms, which were still pinned over your head.

“You know I just love seeing you smile and laugh, especially after a hard day. I enjoyed it so much, but now I want to also see how much you squirm,” Agatha said, with an evil glint in her eyes.

She sat beside you now and took one finger to tickle your belly button, making you gasp and jump at the touch.

“GAH AHAHAHA,” you laughed out, bucking up and down and sucking your stomach in, struggling to escape her evil finger.

She continued this for another minute until you were pink in the face.

“Alright, just one more thing and I’ll let you up. It’s my favorite tactic and I just love the suspense on my little lees face when I do this,” Agatha cooed, now sitting on your hips.

She took her evil nails and started to tickle your sides, slowly moving them up your torso. You burst into laughter, jerking from side to side. Your laughter went up an octave as her nails moved up to tickle your ribs, threatening to enter your armpits.

“NO! NOT AGAIN PLEASE! ANYWHERE BUT THERE!” You shouted, as her fingers continued to slowly climb your upper ribs.

“Any last words? Agatha asked.

You opened your mouth to speak, but it was too late. You were overcome with laughter as her nails entered your sensitive pits again. You screamed at her to stop, bucking against her.

“Oh that shriek of laughter is just wonderful,” Agatha said, tormenting you a little longer before finally letting you up.

“You’re the worst,” you said, giving her a playful shove.

“Are you cheered up now?” Your girlfriend asked.

“Yes,” you said with an eye roll.

“Hey, watch the attitude! Don’t make me have to tickle you again,” Agatha said with a warning tone.

“No! Don’t! I’m sorry!” You immediately apologized, moving away from her and curling up.

“You are so cute,” Agatha cooed, booping your nose to annoy you.

“Just wait till I get my revenge,” you threatened.

“Waiting,” Agatha teased.

With that, you began to chase her around the house, itching for revenge.

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jurassicsickfics · 5 months ago

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Gross Ways Caretaker Could End Up Catching An Illness From Sickie~ A Prompt List:

1. Taking a big, wet, uncovered sneeze right in the face (bonus points if mouth was open)

2. Making the unfortunate decision of cleaning sickie's diarrhea accident without gloves

3. Getting just a liiiitle too close to puking sickie while trying to comfort them and getting barfed on

4. Catching coughed up phlegm with their bare hands out of instinct, wiping it off and getting busy, then forgetting to sanitize their hands before they unknowingly touch their face

5. First promising not to get too close to sickie, but caving when sickie is really chilled and letting them sleep in their bed with them. Personal space= gone.

6. Sickie hands them a full, snotty tissue and they take it without thinking it through

7. Sickie complains that soup tastes funny so caretaker gives the, "really? Let me see?" And proceeds to use the same spoon as sickie before they can catch themselves

8. Couple sickie and caretaker decide to live dangerously and kiss anyways, only for sickie to start uncontrollable coughing into caretaker's mouth

9. Sucking the snot out of miserably congested sickie's nose with one of those nose Frida thingys

10. At first thinking sickie isn't contagious (allergies, food poisoning, etc) and letting them get all up in their space for comfort and cuddles and then a few days later realizing the hard way that they were, in fact, contagious.

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i984 · 2 years ago

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My Thoughts Echoing Your Name | Part 4

|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader.

|Warnings|: Afraid of commitment! Wednesday Addams, reader cried ugly, lame banters, author gave up-ish on writing from paragraph 3, Jealous! Wednesday Addams, lame-ass guy still exists.

|Summary|: Even after Wednesday Addams broke your heart, the ache for her is unbearably still there.

|A/n|: I struggled with this one, there's 5 different drafts until I decided to just type whatever comes in mind, and here you have it, a not-last-part of Burning Red. Next and final part is out!

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Music.

It's coming from outside your window.

You strain your ears, and they manage to catch the all-too-familiar tune. It's frickin' Aerosmith blasting in the middle of the night.

Great. Now you look like an idiot from some cliche romantic comedy movie—tears streaming down your cheeks with snotty tissue papers scattered about your bedsheets, a pathetic teenager bawling their eyes out with a love song playing in the background.

Wednesday, the girl of your dreams, was never yours.

It feels funny. How you thought that after leaving Wednesday yet again for the second time that evening, you would finally find peace in the four walls of your dorm space. But instead, here you are, throat hoarse, eyes stinging, chest ragged, nose sniffling, and some psycho has decided to interrupt your much-needed de-stressing session.

The universe must hate you.

You plop down your bed while your eyelids close, drowning in the all-consuming black void while the faint chord of music continues to play. A sound escaped your lips. A defeated chortle. It sounded so weak that you were almost sure it hadn't come out of you, the voice so uncharacteristic of your usual relaxed, carefree laughter.

Memories of your latest cafe commotion flash through your mind, and you feel your heart sinks and touch your diaphragm.

Is this it? Have you been reduced to a heartbroken pathetic fool? The obnoxious images assault your brain, and you scream into your pillow as you give in to the torture, mind re-living the appalling incident at Weathervane.

"Whoa, who are you?" the man across from you and Wednesday asked, his trunk no longer attached to the sofa booth, legs standing up hurriedly at Wednesday's intimidating display.

Wednesday pulls the side of your body closer, both your hips bruisingly pressed to each other as she speaks, "I believe I should ask you the same question."

You squirm under Wednesday's tight grip, unable to decide if you should break free or admit defeat and stay at your place. You chose the latter, partly to assess the situation but also because you've stupidly missed her touch, despite how much you wish to smack the face of the girl standing beside you.

The man's face contorts into confusion before his brows shoot up and his mouth gapes, finally coming to an irksome realization.

"You- you're that outcast from the freak school, right?"

Wednesday, a freak, though she wasn't the only one.

"Your obviously puny brain might want to try coming up with something a little more descriptive than that."

The man ignored Wednesday's insult, finger now raised to point at the raven-haired girl. "No, yeah, I remember you. You're that crazy girl who played cello while the ceremony caught fire."

He takes a small step back from the two of you, the tissue paper in his hand now crumpled. "They said you were the one who staged it all."

"I have to say, the town's people here might not be too dense after all," came Wednesday's haughty reply, and you're starting to get sick of the pointless banter displayed.

The man turns his face to you, "We should go, like now."

You didn't move from your spot—or rather you can't. Wednesday's arm wraps around you more firmly, and you don't know if you hate the feeling of it; the hint of possessiveness in the gesture offers sweet promises and false hope.

Wednesday, the black dahlia that will be the death of you.

It doesn't take a genius to find out, so the next words that come out of the man's mouth are no surprise.

"Wait, you know this girl?" the person you've yet to learn their name asked, and when you didn't answer, he took another step back, his hands now coming up to pull on the base of his hair in horror.

"I can't believe you're friends with this psychopath," and you feel your stomach churn at the man's words. Not at his obviously condescending tone or the sudden behavior change but at the word he chose to use.

Wednesday, a friend. Is that how he sees the two of you?

Even a stranger seems to think this, so could it be true? Oh, how you want to say no because friends don't act this way. They don't get upset about dates; they don't go on those. The romantic kinds, at least.

Their hearts don't hammer against their chests, not when they hold each other's hands so tight they can feel the blood rush under their skin.

They don't swap spit and shove their tounges down each other's throats, and they won't get upset if one of them says that it's all that is. A kiss. After all, friends can kiss each other, right?

But most importantly, they don't get upset when strangers think they're indeed friends.

Wednesday now feels like a foe, and you know you've lost.

"But we're not friends, are we?" You finally turn your head to look at Wednesday's face, and when you see whatever cryptic expression she's got on her front, you lose all hope.

"We're nothing," your voice shakes in defeat, and your free hand tries to pry Wednesday's arm off you, "so I shouldn't have been upset."

"We're nothing," you lift the fingers gripping your hips tightly one by one, "you were right, and I was wrong."

"We're nothing," you look at her previously cold hand that now desperately holds yours, and you wonder if this may be the last time you'll ever get the chance to touch her, "so you should let me go."

You pull your hand to your side forcefully. The cold and the warmth were no more; it was just you.

"So I should go."

The cafe's doorbell chimes, and you leave Wednesday and the stranger behind you, not daring to look back at them, at her.

Because maybe if you do, you'll see that tears have stained her face just like yours have, and you don't know if you'll survive with the sight burned to your brain.

Wednesday, now a ripped page of the book you wish you could burn.

You open your eyes, and the light frays them, making your brows furrow as you groan into the room. The music was no longer there. Gone. Only deafening silence kills your heart and robs your soul. You feel so painfully alone.

Breathing in the air, you look up and see spiders making webs on your ceiling. They dance, weaving more web out, painting beautifully intricate patterns bit by bit.

Your mind calms down, the bitter thoughts now replaced with a name, and your mind holds to it and repeats it like a mantra.

Wednesday

You want to see her.

Wednesday

You want to feel her.

Wednesday

Your heart calls out her name.

Wednesday

Oh, you miss her.

"Wednesday." Your voice calls out her name; a knock answers.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams fanfic #wednesday addams imagine #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday x reader #wednesday series #wednesday x y/n #wednesday netflix #wednesday x you

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theseshipsshallsail · 3 months ago

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Summary:

Thanks to an especially virulent strain of the winter flu, his headstrong boyfriend’s voice crackles and rasps; punctuated by the occasional rattling cough that shakes him to the bones. His skin is pasty. His lips are chapped. Every flash of animation, it seems, comes at a cost of energy he just doesn’t have, and eyeing the general detritus of Kleenex boxes and lozenge wrappers that litter the wooden coffee table, Oliver’s hard-pressed to remember if he’s actually seen him eat.

Elio’s been slouched on their tan three-seater since the first light of dawn: swaddled in an oversized sweatshirt and some plaid pyjama pants as he rifles through various files of staff paper and his ubiquitous notebook. I’d much rather fail at originality than succeed in imitation, he’d declared last Wednesday, lamenting each scathing critique from his pompous review panel, yet much as Oliver appreciates his righteous indignation, his protective instincts can’t help but bristle at the fact he sounds utterly miserable, to boot.

There’s been plenty of herbal tea to soothe his scratchy throat. Nasal spray. VapoRub. A regular dose of Tylenol from the Walgreens two blocks over. But nothing that falls under the category of food. An untouched plate of toast on the nearby bookcase bears out his suspicions, so Oliver raids the kitchen cupboards for a can of chicken soup, then heats the contents on their gas-powered stove; wincing in sympathy when Elio convulses with a gut-punch sneeze, swearing and hacking in alternate breaths.

Several minutes of snotty sniffing later, Oliver turns off the burner then pours the simple meal into an old Columbia Lions mug: the one Elio’d claimed for his own upon his initial move to the States. The other man’s squinting at a dog-eared composition sheet when he eventually returns to the couch, and Oliver figures his blocked sinus is the culprit as he pinches the bridge of his cherry-red nose; probably trying to banish the cobwebs.

“Scoot up, Patient Zero,” he says, sitting down carefully beside him, and when Elio blinks sluggishly his mercurial eyes are nothing but dull slits of colour beneath his heavy lashes; the light of their freestanding lamp shade apparently too much to bear. “Tell me again how you never get sick?”

Elio summons a gimlet glare. “I'm not sick; I’m dying,” he groans - the edge of a wheeze rattling the vowels - but he accepts the mug all the same, and Oliver hums indulgently as he sweeps an unholy assortment of balled-up tissues into a neat little pile.

“Your stubbornness is commendable,” he says, pleased to see Elio make short shrift of the steaming liquid, if not the noodles themselves. “But do yourself a favour and get some rest, yeah?"

“Un mal nécessaire.” A yawn: barely stifled. “I have to finish these -”

“Not today you don't.” Oliver rescues the mug from his slightly-drooping hand. “Even us creatures of habit deserve a night off.”

Elio smirks; slow and playful. “Is that so?” he says, nodding at the Sophomore Ontology coursework partially obscuring the living room rug.

Which, yes. Fair enough. But -

“I’m still new to the syllabus,” Oliver replies, nudging him gently with his knee. “Professor Johnson’s lesson plans were shoddy at best. You, however, have a fever of thirty-eight.” As the flush on his sunken cheeks can attest. “So don’t pretend you’re not ready to pass out from exhaustion.”

A grunt is the only acknowledgement he receives, and Oliver’s all set to try a different tack when Elio slumps sideways like a stringless marionette. It’s completely proprietary - the way he claims his unsuspecting lap as an ad hoc pillow - but Oliver’s quick to adopt his role as a piece of human furniture, uncaring of the knobbly shoulder blade digging exorbitantly into his thigh.

Little victories, he decides, and reining in a grin, smooths the messy curls from his maestro’s clammy forehead.

“Do you need anything else?” he asks instead, the slim column of Elio’s neck spasming amidst his muttered grumblings. “A blanket? Some water? There’s a fresh bottle of vitamins in the bathroom cabinet…”

“Just your support in these harrowing times,” Elio murmurs, the arm around his middle snugging tighter, so Oliver follows his own advice as he drags a knitted Afghan over the curve of Elio's body - fishes a dog-eared copy of The King Must Die from between the sunken cushions - then crosses his legs at the ankles as he settles in for the duration.

#call me by your name #cmbyn fanfic #elio x oliver #sickfic #domestic fluff

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zamiecmunson · 1 year ago

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Sick girl

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Eddie looks after you while you’re sick <3

‘Hey, you home? Sorry Hellfire finished sorta late, am I still good to come over?’ Eddie giddily asked over the phone, still riding the high of a good session and excited to see his girl.

‘No’ is what you thought you said, but all Eddie heard was a strained “Doe” accompanied by a loud sniffle. His face went stern.

‘I leave you alone for 8 hours and you get sick?’ He stood with his free hand on his hip, going immediately into mom mode.

Before you could even croak out another sentence he was already doing the math in his head of how much cash he’d need for medicine, soup, all the essentials. Wayne was just about to head out for his night shift when his ears perked up at the conversation. After clattering about in the cupboards, he silently handed Eddie a half used bottle of nyquil with a pat on the shoulder.

‘I’m fine, I just don’t want you getting sick too. Stay home Eddie, i’ll be okay. Promise’ You pleaded, secretly wanting to be babied to filth right now. Everything was sooooo far away and moving was certainly not an option.

‘You know me way better than that, sweetheart’ He couldn’t help but silently giggle at your stuffy voice. ‘I’ll be there in 20. Love ya’ He hung up before you could protest.

It really did only take him 20 minutes to get to your place but it felt like 60. He made his way through the front door and into your living room as carefully and quietly as possible. Extremely conscious of how any amount of noise is probably like having someone put a drill right between your eyes.

‘Poor baby’ Was all he could muster when he found your limp body strung across the sofa, red nose, tired glassy eyes, buried under your favourite blanket and surrounded by crumpled up tissues.

‘You don’t need to see me like this’ You shoved your face under the blanket and immediately struggled to breathe, coughing and spluttering.

‘And you need good clean air in your lungs not polyester and fluff’ He peeled it back to reveal the sorriest sight he’d ever seen. Weirdly, he’d never been more in love. Vulnerable and looking up at him like he’s the only person in the world who could help. Usually he was like putty in your hands but today he got to be the man in charge. Your eyelashes fluttered as he placed the back of his hand on your forehead. His eyes widened as he jerked away on autopilot at first, immediately placing it back with a concerned expression.

‘Baby, you’re fucking boiling! How hasn’t your brain melted through your skull’ He wiped the sheen of sweat from your forehead on his jeans and pulled back your blanket even more.

‘I’m freezing!’ You protested trying to put it back with your bottom lip hanging out. Unfortunately your poorly limpness was no match for Eddie.

‘None of that,’ he prodded your lip. ‘Just let me take care of you’ His voice softened while he stroked your hair. How could you say no to that face.

Eddie picked you up, with what appeared to be no effort at all, and carried you to your bed. The plastic bag of drugstore supplies swung beneath you. Carefully placing you on top of your quilt, he added another pillow behind to prop you up and tucked you under a fresh, less snotty blanket. Sitting beside you on the edge of the bed, he dug around his bag of goods.

‘You manage to eat anything today?’ He asked while shaking a bottle of cough syrup.

‘It didn’t last long’ You nodded in the direction of the toilet, feeling gross again just from the memory.

‘Don’t worry i’ve dealt with way worse,’ He poured the liquid onto a spoon. ‘you’ve seen the aftermath of the hideout on tuesday nights’.

Eddie opened his mouth urging you to do the same before spoon feeding you the medicine. ‘Atta girl’ He praised quietly as your mouth clamped over the plastic.

‘Bleghh-f-fuck-you-ughlr’ You shuddered at the foul taste, shaking your head when he started loading up another mouthful.

‘Don’t make me do the airplane thing’ Eddie smirked, doing his best not to laugh in your face at that reaction.

‘Why do you enjoy torturing me?’ You screwed your eyes shut and reluctantly opened your mouth. He carefully scraped it against your lips making sure you got every last drop before wiping the excess off the side of your mouth.

‘Because it’s just so much fun’ He bobbed his head in time to his own words and smiled into a forehead kiss.

‘My bones hurt’ you wined, still cringing from the medicine.

‘Well are you ready to eat anything yet? Can’t take ibuprofen on an empty stomach’ He sounded weirdly proud that he knew that common knowledge.

‘I have cough syrup in my stomach’ you tried puppy dog eyes but your face muscles weren’t listening.

‘Not exactly how it works, princess’ He smiled, gently pushing your stray sweaty hairs away from your brow. ‘We’ll see how that settles and attempt some soup if it stays down, yeah?’

When did Eddie the freak Munson get so sensible.

‘Soup’ You agreed with as sweet of a smile as you could conjure.

‘Soup’ He nodded, clambering into bed next to you.

After a few minutes of finally getting comfortable & Eddie giving you the run down of the night’s campaign, he realised he’d been a total idiot.

‘I forgot the best part!’ He jumped three feet in the air, startling you. He rummaged through the plastic bag with great speed & promise. You winced at the sound. He popped back up like a meerkat and the face of someone you’d think won the lottery, holding a tub of vaporub.

‘No’ You deadpanned.

‘Why?!’ It was his turn to stick out the bottom lip.

‘Sticky. Don’t like it’ You folded your arms in protest.

‘But it’s good for you!’ His voice went up a few octaves. ‘And fun for me! Please?’ He went low, puppy dog eyes on a sick girl. The rat bastard.

‘Eddie.’ He was breaking you.

‘Baaaaaaabe-‘ He leant on your ribs to look up at you like a pleading child.

‘Fine!’ You struggled to contain your smile. He let out a small ‘yay!’ before clumsily straddling you, excitement accidentally coming before carefulness.

‘Strip for me!’ He said playfully, making it rain with imaginary money. After giving him a look that said “if you make me move heads will roll”, he propped himself up on his knees for a moment to grab the bottom of you shirt and carefully peeled it off your body.

‘Evening ladies’ The giant child said to your boobs before taking out a generous amount of Vicks. Eddie took his sweet time massaging it into your chest. His face half total concentration, half child on Christmas morning. It felt good for you too but it was clear who was having the most fun. Until it unblocked your sinuses and your nose turned into a running faucet.

‘Don’t worry, I gotcha’ He used his sleeve to block your nose as he dug around the bag for a kleenex.

‘That’s disgusting, Eddie’ You mumbled through his hand.

‘I’ve done a lot worse for a lot less,’ He chucked to himself, switching out his sleeve for the tissue. ‘Blow’ He couldn’t contain his smugness. He was taking way too much pleasure in being your sole caregiver. You blew reluctantly.

‘Good girl’ He smirked.

Eddie dismounted you and carefully re-covered you with the blanket. He snuggled back to your side and played with your hair, telling the most boring story he could think of in his most monotone voice to send you to sleep. You knew exactly what he was doing, but you were also too tired to fight it. You slowly drifted off to sleep aided by his rambling, he didn’t stop playing with your hair when he knew you were asleep.

When you awoke, Eddie was gone. You must’ve been out for a while as the banging headache & cough had returned. Just as you were about to call out for him, he slowly opened your bedroom door. He was holding a bowl with steam coming off it in one hand, a cup of tea with the other and a spoon in his mouth.

‘Good sleep?’ He said through the spoon, still smiling beneath it.

‘mmhmm’ You attempted to stretch but it felt like your bones were made of bruises.

‘Soup!’ He said excitedly after putting the mug down and removing the spoon from his teeth. You hummed in response again, knowing that if you tried to speak you would cough. And under no circumstances were you having any more of that foul medicine.

‘Not hungry?’ He started to look sus. You tried to hum again but it came out as a splutter. He cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow.

‘I may be an idiot,’ Eddie put the soup down and bent to pick something off the floor. ‘But i’m not stupid. Open wide’ He unscrewed the top off the cough syrup bottle. Dammit.

After another traumatic 2 mouthful’s of poison he spoon fed you the soup too. The food knocked you out again and you both spent the next couple days like this. Vile medicine, sleep, vile medicine, food, sleep, and so on. It was the most comfortable illness you ever had. Doctor Eddie was definitely board certified in your eyes. On day 4, you woke up and felt okay. Nose was still a bit runny but everything else had settled.

Eddie sneezed.

You looked at each other.

It was time for the role reversal.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #my writing #zamieć thoughts

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dumplingsjinson · 2 years ago

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Chaotic Roommate Prompts mayhaps?

List of chaotic roommate prompts

Character A hearing a knock on their window. Considering how they live on the second floor, they don’t think much of it — might be a tree branch scraping past with how windy it is tonight. Then they hear it again — the distinct thumping against their window pane. Raising a brow, they pull their curtain aside and see Character B grinning at them through the glass, dangling on a thick tree branch. “What the fuck?!” they yelp, quickly opening the window and being met with a cold draft. “What are you doing, [name]? Are you fucking insane?!” They quickly help Character B clamber through their window. “Sorry,” Character B says once they’re safe and sound on Character A’s bedroom floor. “I forgot my keys, and since you usually ignore anyone knocking at the front door, I figured this was my best bet. Which it was, so no harm done!”

“Why are you naked.” “Because the air-conditioning’s not working.” “Okay, but you really don’t need to chill out in your birthday suit on the couch of all places. This is a shared space!” “It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before.” “That’s not the point.”

Character B loudly sobbing over their ex for the eighth night in a row (at least that’s what Character A thinks) and so, being the nosy person they are, they decide to check up on them, only to find out they’ve been sobbing over a 100k worded fanfiction they found on AO3. “Are you fucking serious?” Character A grumbles, while Character B wipes under their eyes with their suspiciously snotty tissue. “It’s not my fault this fic is so well-written!”

“I’m going to need you to stop coming back drunk at two in the morning, spouting the dumbest conspiracy theories known to mankind because I’m losing a lot of brain cells because of you.”

Character B, when drunk, would end up curled up on the middle of Character A’s bed. Character A has learned the lesson of trying to wake them up during those moments, so whenever this happens, they leave them be and resort to sleeping on the couch.

Character B trying to take care of Character A when they fall sick but instead, make a mess of the kitchen. “…It’s the effort that counts,” Character A says monotonously as they survey the degree of damage done to the kitchen the next day.

Character B sitting on Character A’s lap when there’re seats and couches throughout the house for them to plop their asses on.

(If they’re close enough) Character B making moaning sounds in the background if they happen to be in the same room as Character A and Character A’s on the phone with their parents.

“That’s not how you change a lightbulb!” “Well, I’m no lightbulb technician!” “I already told you I know how to change a fucking lightbulb yet you took it to tasking yourself with this!”

Character B sneaking a speaker into Character A’s room and blasting their music to scare the fuck out of Character A and, also, to wake them up.

“Stop stealing my takeaway, you dipshit!”

“Okay, you’re not going into the kitchen ever again! You’re not allowed near any sort of stove from now on!” “But—” “No buts, I don’t want this place to be burned to crisps! I want my deposit back, for God's sake!”

“Can you stop telling my parents that we’re dating?” “I’m only sparing you from them asking why you’re still so pathetically single.”

“I know you’ve been stealing my hoodies from my closet.”

“Can you lock the door the next time you take a shower?” “Maybe you should learn how to knock, how about that? Plus, no one gets to see this plump ass very often so you should count yourself lucky.”

#roommate prompts #prompts #otp prompts #writing prompts #dialogue prompts #request #I had a tonne of fun writing this one omg thank you anon #also air new zealand has free inflight wifi for the whole flight so i'm uploading this via a 14 hour long flight lmfaooooo

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marlynnofmany · 2 years ago

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Interspecies Adventures While Sick

“Hi again, Smooth Vibrations,” I rasped, trying not to cough. “I’ve got a pickup for Zhee.”

Running errands with a cold was never fun, but at least this one was quick. And I was even sure that I’d met this vendor before. Waterwills really do all look the same to human eyes, since the size and color of their column-of-jello bodies was liable to change depending on health, but this one was wearing a nametag. I say wearing, but really she had it floating near the front. I was glad for that. There was no chance I’d pick up the frequencies they identify each other by otherwise.

“Welcome back!” said Smooth Vibrations brightly. Someday I’d figure out how they produced sounds, but it had never felt polite to ask. “We haven’t seen your ship in a while. Is Zhee ill?”

I shook my congested head. “He’s fine; I’m sick. He’s just busy and asked me to grab his order on my way to go rest.” I sniffed, but only one nostril was working.

“Sounds like a big favor,” the Waterwill said as she extended an arm tendril to open a drawer.

“Eh, not too bad,” I told her. “It’s a minor sickness. I probably caught it from somebody on the last station a few days ago; I don't think anyone on my ship can even get human diseases.”

“That’s convenient,” Smooth Vibrations said. “If—”

My explosive sneeze interrupted her. I’d turned away and aimed into the crook of my arm, but it was a loud one. Also unpleasantly messy. I’d have to wash this shirt.

“Excuse me,” I said, wiping my nose on the sleeve. “Ugh.”

When I looked back at her, I found the Waterwill frozen in place, her surface covered in alarmed-looking spikes. Even the vague shapes floating about her interior had stilled. Before I could ask if she was okay, she exclaimed, “What was that?”

“A sneeze?” I said. “Have you not seen that before?”

“That’s normal?” she demanded. The spikes began flattening out.

“For sick humans, yes,” I said, digging in a pocket for a tissue. “Probably other species too. Something was irritating my breathing passages, and that’s a way to get it out. Automatically. I don’t have much control over it.” I glanced at my befouled sleeve. “More’s the pity.”

She started to say something else as I blew my nose, then she stopped. The spikes didn’t reappear, but I got the impression that she was shocked in a different way. I couldn’t blame her. Those snotty noises were gross even to me. One tissue was barely enough.

“What did you say?” she asked when I was done.

I re-wound my memory. “More’s the pity?” I asked.

“After that!” she said, sounding scandalized.

“I didn’t say anything. I just blew my nose.”

“Are you sure?” she pressed. “Because that sounded an awful lot like—” She produced a snotty sound of her own, which really did sound similar.

“Wow, is that your language? I swear I didn’t do it on purpose!” This was fascinating. “What did I say?”

Smooth Vibrations paused before saying, “May all your organs clump together.”

“No, I definitely didn’t mean to say that!” I assured her, laughing a bit. “I’m so sorry.”

“Apology accepted,” she said primly, going back to the drawer. “Let’s get you that order so you can go back to your ship and rest.”

“Yes please,” I said, looking down at the tissue and wondering what to do with it. Asking to throw it in her trash can just didn’t seem polite. I ended up crumpling it and shoving it in a pocket; I’d wash all my clothes later anyway. Bluh. I hate being sick.

“Here it is,” Smooth Vibrations announced, placing a flat case on the counter. “Do you want a bag?”

“Sure,” I said, trying to make out the brightly-colored text. “Your bags are really neat.”

Smooth Vibrations sounded proud as she said, “That’s Waterwill efficiency for you!” She moved the case into a clear bag that was made out of a thin layer of their patented solid-water technology. It didn’t get anything wet, and it would evaporate in a day. So clever. “I hope you get your rest, and Zhee enjoys his music. The Loud Ones are a fine band.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard their stuff, but the name sounds familiar,” I said as I picked up the bag. It felt smooth and cool against my fingers.

“Their biggest song is ‘What The Hell Is A Shuwog?’” she told me.

“Ohh, I remember that one!” I flashed back to my first day with this crew, and Paint’s lively rendition of the song about Mesmer body parts. Zhee had been particularly grumpy about it, insisting that the song was a dishonor to his glorious blade-arms. But now he was buying the album? I laughed, then had to cough. “This is why he wanted me to pick it up for him, instead of waiting for Paint to do her supply run!” I exclaimed. “She’d never let him live it down that he actually likes that song!”

Smooth Vibrations burbled in amusement. “Sounds like you’ve got some blackmail material if he ever sends you out while you’re sick again.” She waved me away with three arm tendrils. “Go rest!”

“I will!” I told her. “Thanks!” With another sniffle that was hopefully not a different rude word, I hurried back to my ship and a much-needed nap.

~~~

The ongoing backstory of the main character from this book. More to come!

The shuwog bit is a callback to this story.

#my writing #the Token Human #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #haso #hfy #eiad #snot #this story brought to you by the minor cold I've had for the last five days #left the work-from-home sector and IMMEDIATELY got sick #not that I'm bitter or anything #anyways! it led to fiction #so hooray

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hyukassubi · 4 months ago

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🍪 05 | The Prince's Sick Meal/ Blue and White Tiled Kitchens

♡𓂃 Pairing -> (Former) Knight! Huening Kai x Seamstress! Reader

♡𓂃 Synopsis -> Growing up, you never believed in purpose, nor destiny. Simply following the path of life, becoming a royal seamstress didn't at all seem like a bad idea. Only thing is, it wasn't your idea.

Your best friend who just so happens to be the crowned prince knows what it's like to grow up having limited choices, and Prince Kang Taehyun doesn't want the same happening to you. The commander knight, in turn, has other plans for the future. After Huening Kai closes a profound chapter of his life, he seeks refuge from the chaos of his past, opting for a cozier lifestyle instead.

... And it just so seems that those plans wouldn't be fulfilled without you.

♡𓂃 Wc -> 2,408

The crowned prince fell ill to a nasty cold, cooped up in his bedroom with snotty tissues all over the floor and an opened chess board over his bed to play his eighth winning streak against Commander Knight Bangchan.

The Commander Knight was not having fun, and that’s the amusing part of all of this.

Taehyun wondered, sometimes, if not the obvious florist and bakery errands you helped run from time to time, what did you do during your spare time?

You couldn’t come over to play with Taehyun today, but that didn’t stop you from paying him a visit.

With homemade food.

Yes, in the kitchen of one of the most notorious well-profound bakeries in all of the kingdom, little eleven year old you was cooking up a storm, following along a recipe in your mother’s old cookbook: Curry Katsudon.

“Potatoes… Onions… Carrots...” You trailed off, checking over the ingredients by the sink in your mother’s humble kitchen. It was a pretty thing, walls covered in floral tiles, whites and blues, laced curtains providing a massive scenic view of the alleyway connected to your father’s shop full of bushes and flowers of all types and a pair of keen eyes watching through your window sill-

In your hands were two blades— a butcher knife and a bread knife— cookbook long forgotten face-flat on the ceramic floor as you threatened, “Get out of my mom’s kitchen or el— Oh, hey Kai!”

Huening Kai who was gripping for dear life onto the side of a metal pipe with leaves and twigs in his hair climbed down promptly, face flushed. “Oh— Uh, hey Y/n!” His smile didn’t seem quite so cheery.

Not long after, a third voice bellowed from the cash register outside, “Darling, is there another rat in the kitchen? What did I say about threatening harmless little rodents with kitchen utensils when we can just call your father over to exterminate those damned pests?”

It was your mother.

You didn’t get why your mother insisted on father killing the rodents when he’s even more deathly afraid of anything fast and on all fours with a long snakey tail than your mother will ever be, but you digress.

You let the frightened boy into the kitchen through the window without the knives in your hands. “False alarm, momma, it’s just Kai.”

Your mother appeared into the kitchen soon after, metal doors swung open with a broomstick just in case.

Her face softened when she saw the small boy all pinkened and bashful standing next to you. “Oh, hello Kai.”

Kai gulped, eyes on the broomstick. “Hello auntie.”

“Did you bring your little prince buddy along with you?”

You responded for Kai, hands clutched onto his... for whatever reason. It was a subconscious thing. Taehyun did it with you countless of times before without either of you being aware of it until Taehyun looks down, looks back up, shrugs his shoulders and continues squeezing your hands regardless. This is just another one of those ‘oh yeah this is my best friend and the guy just needs a little physical support’ moment, right? “Taehyun is sick, momma, I told you about it already.”

Her eyes squinted in an ironic way. “I can never be sure with you children. Anyway, what’s the knight doing here in my kitchen?”

“That’s… a good question.” You furrowed your brows, facing Huening Kai. “What are you doing here?”

“Umm… I wanted to hangout with Y/n, if that’s okay…” his words were meant for your mother, but his eyes never left you. “Since the prince is sick.”

“Mhm.” Your mother’s eyes squinted even further, seeing right through him, smirking. “Since the prince is sick.” She repeated.

Your hands clutched onto Kai’s, both of them, harder than before, hopping on your heels because a lightbulb had popped above your head. “Hey, why don’t you help me cook a sick meal for Taehyun? I was just going over all the ingredients and since you’re here, why not help me out a little bit?”

“Uhh—”

“Great!” You picked up the cookbook, placing it in front of a basket of fruit of support. “Now it says here…”

Huening Kai only half listened, still phased by the situation he has somehow gotten himself into.

He did come over to ask you out to play, and perhaps he got lost on his way to look for the entrance of the bakery, but he knew he was in the right place when he saw you… at the window… completely absorbed into whatever you were doing, eyes focused, tongue cutely sticking out of your lips like a five year old doing a painting.

The same girl that keeps watching over him during his training sessions.

He never asked for it, he never asked to be looked after or even looked up upon, but he was seen and that thought alone brought the young knight comfort.

It didn’t make sense at first, why a random village girl would stick around for no reason in the palace grounds. But as he got to know you and where you stood, he figured, you didn’t need a reason than to just be truly there.

Of all people who could’ve watched over him regularly, it wasn’t his family, his friends, not the prince, all for their own valid reasons, but you did.

You were always there, all the time.

He’ll be more than happy to help you with your cooking.

“I didn't know Taehyun liked eating this kind of stuff…” Huening Kai went on peeling vegetables right by your side, elbows bumping ocassionally. He was in charge of the carrots, you were in charge of the potatoes. The mild buzz of customers rung from outside, followed by the clitter-clattering of coins but for a majority of the time, it was just you and Kai and Kai and you and you can't have it any other way.

“Oh yeah no, he mentioned it was his favourite after school meal some time ago, and it’s no coincidence that his entire kitchen smelled of those familiar heavenly herbs and spices. I’ve heard his mom complain about the ‘stench’ time and time again, but he doesn’t seem to care.”

Huening Kai gasped. “How dare she complain about that ‘stench’?”

“I know right? How dare she.” You mocked him with a playful tone, just enough to pull on his strings but not push over his feeble heart. You giggled along, and he did, too.

Something about cooking with another person made the world seem to spin a little faster, like time is going by so quickly yet peacefully all at the same time. “I introduced him to the dish, actually.” You admitted, taking a long gaze outside the window to your father’s shop.

You wondered at times how he's doing, if he needed a helping hand. Or if he was peering back at the window with a pleased smile because you had a friend that wasn't the prince for once.

“Oh. So that makes it your favourite food?”

“No, it was my parents’ favourite food. Back when they met in high school, they’d stop by this roadside stall and hog down on a bowl of curry katsudon.”

“Oh… like a date?”

You dropped a peeled potato into a bowl of water with the rest of it’s starch buddies. “Yup, everytime. On the edge of the sidewalk, eating with plastic spoons. My dad says that the luxuriousness of a dating spot doesn’t matter when he gets to spend his time with the people he loves most.”

Huening Kai loved how you made eating food on the side of a road sound so comfy. “He’s not wrong, but like, all the time?”

“I think so. They can never get bored of it, and I don’t know if my parents meant the food or each other’s company, but… I think it’s both. It’s kinda sad that the chef couldn’t afford to open up his own restaurant, though.”

“Even when your parents buy from that place every single date they had together?” Huening Kai joked.

“Mhm, customer loyalty be damned. My mom says that if I can replicate the taste of the curry katsudon, she’ll ship me to Taehyun’s Royal Academy for Princes and Princesses.” You shrugged. “I told her I knew she was being sarcastic.”

Huening Kai didn’t respond. He took a good look at this kitchen, aware at how long he left you at a comfortable silence (a good ten seconds).

He pictured this: a small grubby girl with pigtails and chocolate-batter stained lips and fingertips running around the kitchen with an empty glass bowl, running away from her mother who was young and fresh and so ready to tickle her to death for finishing up raw cookie batter.

Another picture: a girl chopping cabbages alone, accompanied by the tweeting of birds and… a knock on the kitchen door. It was her father, perhaps. Coming in, checking on his beloved daughter.

Another picture, and the more Huening Kai dreamed, the more the images seemed out of reach: a boy who comes in with fidgety hands behind his back and a turned away chin, wondering if the lovely young girl in this lovely kitchen could go on adventures with him someday.

He pauses now, eyes trailing along the edge of counter tops and the knives on the walls organized by size, wondering if he’ll ever be present in such a place again, especially after his knight prowesses are completed. Wondering if, perhaps, a moment like this could be repeated again and again, like your parents did during their high school dating days.

He let his thoughts slide, jumping back into the conversation, “Is the stall owner still alive?”

Huening Kai had no interest in cooking. Or food. But he liked peeling potatoes and carrots with you. Maybe a little too much, more than he’d like to admit. Even when it came to peeling the last carrot, he purposely slowed down the strokes of his peeler, hoping the moment could last a little longer.

“Hm… Wait, let me ask my mo—”

“No. No you don’t have to. I was just… curious. I guess.”

“Yeah no, that’s a good question, actually. I can’t believe I never really thought of it. Maybe he’s still alive and grey and old and is still stuck on the side of the road selling his little curry meals. Who knows.”

“I’m rooting for that guy. I hope he opens his own restaurant, one day.” Your parents sounded happy together, he wanted to but didn’t say.

‘Do you think we’ll all be like that someday?’, He didn’t and probably will never say, though he knew he had a clear picture in his head that you and him and the prince will be happy for a very long time.

And to that, all you can do is sigh. “Same here, Hyuka.”

“…” The peeler paused on the base of the carrot. “…”

“I’m sorry.”

“What did you just call me?”

“Hyuka. I’m sorry. Your name’s just way too long sometimes I mean- I was stuck in between saying ‘Huening’ and ‘Kai’ but then the words mixed together so I went ‘Hyuka’.”

Huening Kai, slowly, filled the bowl of water with a peeled carrots. “I… kinda like that, actually.”

‘Me too’, you wanted to tell him, but you came up with something even better:

“Hello, Hyuka.”

Prince Taehyun would never forget the time he shared his favourite food with his two best friends on a sick day in his bedroom.

“You guys are the best.” He gulped down another spoon of rice, curry sauce and katsu. “You should cook for me again next time. All the time, if you could.”

“And you should join us.” You shot a playful wink at the prince, to which he grimaced.

“As if.” Taehyun scoffed, folding his arms and turning his head away with a pout, clearly overreacting but perhaps it was his sickness that got him extra sassy today. “I hate peeling onions.”

Huening Kai just stared ahead, his mind diving into thoughts of blue and white tiled kitchens accompanied by background chatter and peeling carrots and potatoes on top of a thick and rich curry roux and the afternoon sunlight spilling through the window all over on you, you, you.

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♡𓂃A/n: The way this accidental cooking date wouldn't have ever existed if Taehyun wasn't sick (everybody drop your jaws) 🫢🫢🫢🫢🫢 also, I know this chapter isn't the goofiest but I do hope y'all enjoyed something more calm and sweet 🫶🫶🫶🫶

♡𓂃Tags: @sweetheartsaku @imcringebutimfree @i-like-to-read-at-4am @pengningie @marloree @stormy1408 @blossommi @flaminghotyourmom

Reblog and review if you like my work!!

#txt #tomorrow x together #tomorrow by together #txt x reader #txt fluff #hueningkai #hueningkai txt #txt hueningkai #huening kai #hueningkai x you #hueningkai x y/n #hueningkai x reader #txt fanfic #hueningkai fluff #hueningkai angst

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