#think I'm like mildly feverish?

[autogeneity]

AAAAAAA really thought I was getting better but apparently it decided to get worse instead

[simpxxstan]

hellaur been thinking of single-girl-dad wonu and reader who've been with him through up and down.. just had a dream of him taking care of a toddler i wanna ask him hand in marriage 😫

it could be spicy or floofy fluff, wanna see ur thoughts on this 💋

thank you for your request!! i hope i haven't made you wait too long T_T i was so soft while writing this, i really really really hope you like it <3 really wanted to post this on 17th july but i'm late (as always) happy belated birthday wonwoo!!! hope you're happy forever <3

this is part of my 550 followers celebration event! find the rest of the content of this event here!

genre: fluff, single dad au, friends to lovers, mutual pining

word count: 4k

warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff. mildly suggestive tones if you squint but nothing really. just- girl dad and simp wonu.

wonwoo knows he's probably never going to forget that day of his life. that day he woke up to the sound of the doorbell, and a child crying outside his apartment. that day when his ex-girlfriend dropped the child off at his doorstep after informing him that this is his daughter. that day when he learnt that the girlfriend he broke up with a year ago had actually borne and raised his child without even informing him. until this day, when she'd suddenly been thrust upon him along with the news that his ex was now getting married to someone from a different country and she could not possibly take the child with her.

and wonwoo had just stared at the little creature sitting in his lap, unable to say anything, unable to even form coherent thoughts. in the background, he could faintly hear his ex's voice blabber on as she wound up excuse-after-excuse of how she has to leave to marry some chaebol and how it's been a crazy year and how she's tried to reach him but never ended up doing it because her parents couldn't afford for her to go into the public with the baby and how she hasn't named the child yet because she was too afraid to get attached to the baby.

he sat there on his couch, staring at the little daughter who looked so much like him that even a random stranger would be able to understand she was his child, even as she left, promising that she'd never see him or the child again.

and wonwoo sat like that until you walked in through the door, drained after a nineteen-hour shift, still wearing your scrubs and your hands shaking with exhaustion, but still carrying a box of fried chicken and two bottles of soju.

"who's this?" your voice had broken him out of his trance and he'd looked up after staying frozen in that state for hours.

"my daughter."

wonwoo could see the way your eyes widened under your glasses and your breath speed up in that one second. "is she?"

"yes. rhea dropped her off."

"rhea? like rhea from college?"

"yeah."

you don't say anything else. you just drop the food on the dining table and pick up the child from wonwoo's arms. "she needs to change her diapers. can't you smell it?"

he had stared up at you, still not fully back in reality. "i don't have any."

"well, let's go out and buy some then."

_

and wonwoo hadn't questioned it. he still doesn't question it as you sit at his dining table, feeding his four year daughter soup because she's caught fever after playing in the rain. he didn't question it yesterday when you'd woken up in the middle of the night in feverish delusion and called for eomma. he doesn't question it when you know more about her than he does.

"hey" he says when he walks into the room, his hair still messy from sleeping in. both the girls in his life turn to look at him, identical smiles plastered on your faces, and wave at him. wonwoo doesn't know if it's possible for his heart to feel this full every day and survive even after nearly suffer a heart attack every time he wakes up to this sight, but he doesn't question it.

"there's bread and soup for brunch if you want some." he sits down next to you, your knees almost touching his, and reaches out to pat the cheeks of his daughter who's sitting on your lap. "she's eaten it all like a good girl. so you should do." you softly land his daughter in his lap, and stand up.

"daddy's girl is just perfect, aren't you, baby?" wonwoo hugs her close, worrying about how her tiny body is still warm, but at least there's food in her tummy now.

"she is. i'll leave now, wonwoo."

"sorry for calling you last night. i didn't know what to do when she called for you."

you smile but wonwoo can see how tired your eyes are.

"you did the right thing. call me again if you need me. i'll come around anyway tonight." wonwoo nods.

"bye-bye eunchae-ah! i'll see you later."

when you lean in to kiss eunchae on her cheeks, wonwoo's face right next to his daughter's, he almost feels your kiss on his cheek too. but it doesn't come. it never does. he smiles at his own foolishness, before he waves you goodbye, following his daughter's actions too.

_

he wishes you didn't have to leave every day. he has a bedroom dedicated for you. he has a toothbrush for you. he has an assigned chair on the dining table for you. his daughter calls you eomma in the depths of the night. his mind calls for you whenever he feels out of his depths. his body craves for you every time he sees you.

he wishes you didn't have to leave.

but you're back every time like you promise. you come right back, to take care of him and his daughter. like tonight, wonwoo knows as he sneaks a peek at the elepant clock on the wall.

eunchae's fever is slowly coming back, and wonwoo's given her the syrupy medicine but he knows what she's really craving is cuddles. he holds her close, reading out a storybook to her in a soft voice he reserves for his girls, but he knows he can't sit like this for long. his stream is scheduled at nine-thirty, and he has to be on time because the stakes are high tonight.

the clock strikes nine and wonwoo hears the door unlock. "y/n-ie is home!" eunchae immediately breaks out of her sleepy daze and squeals out, "y/n-ie! come fast! dad's reading the story about the pirates!" "is he?" you open the door and lean against the frame. wonwoo's heart skips a beat as he sees the way your heart shines with love as you look at eunchae, your hair falling all over your face after the long day at work. "but maybe y/n-ie can read it out for princess eunchae? dad will get dinner in the meantime." you step up closer to where the two of them are snuggled up in wonwoo's bed, "i'll read the rest out for you. and maybe i can show you pictures of the new puppy hansol rescued today?" eunchae's eyes light up, all exhaustion from the fever disappearing at the sound of her favourite uncle, hansol, and the puppies he rescues. wonwoo takes that as his cue to leave you with eunchae. when he tries to get up, his legs dangling over the edge of the bed, you lean forward to squeeze his shoulders. "is today the day of the match?" "hmm." "well, good luck then, champ."

wonwoo grins. "i don't need luck. you know that."

_

he doesn't know where the earlier confidence had come from, but it's certainly gone now. he's nearly died three times already and he cannot afford to make any more slips. he knows the money's coming in steady, but it's not half close to the mental target he'd placed for tonight's stream. he has to do better for the money to come up faster so he focuses his entire being on the final round of the match.

and he does not disappoint. he wins fair and square, albeit by the narrow margin. the money rapidly builds in the last few moments of the game, when he shoots down every minion of the opponent, and finally the opponent's main character itself.

when the stream finally ends, and he turns off the computer's video and audio, he can finally take a break. it's three am on the computer's clock, and his eyes burn. the adrenaline pumps through his veins but as soon as his headphones are off, he can feel reality reeling him again.

after a small snack stolen from the fridge and a shower in warm water, he finally makes way to his bedroom. he doesn't expect you to be awake, but he certainly doesn't expect seeing you sleeping soundly in his bed, your legs tangled in his comforter, and his daughter snuggled against your chest, spread across the entire bed as if it's not his bed. but then, what even is his? not his bedroom, not his daughter, and certainly not his heart.

he presses a light kiss on eunchae's forehead and pats your hair once, to which you let out a sleepy whimper. before he can let his mind wander at that sound, he escapes from the room and goes to the guest bedroom.

_

"are you winning games only to be banished from your own bedroom? you should've asked me to move!" you stomp your leg and whine when you see wonwoo sitting in the bed of the guest bedroom the next morning, lazily brushing his teeth. your pajamas are not yours- they're ones you've borrowed so often from him that it's nearly become yours. but they're still too loose at your legs, dangling below your feet. your eyes are red with sleep in spite of waking up at nine am, so thank god it's your off-day.

wonwoo pulls you by your arm and makes you flop down on the bed next to him. he removes the toothbrush from his mouth, the foam still in his mouth, but he mouths coffee. "god, you're so dirty. clean your mouth before talking. what is eunchae going to learn?" but wonwoo can see that your vexing is all made-up because it takes one tug on your arm to make you burst into a smile.

it's a special day- it's three years since wonwoo officially adopted eunchae and became her father on all legal papers. it's an emotional day every year, but a happy one. wonwoo does not regret adopting eunchae for even one second. it's been quite a hectic journey and he wouldn't be anywhere without your help but he wouldn't go back for a billion dollars. eunchae has completed his life in more ways than one. she's shown him unconditional trust and reciprocated his love without a second's hesitation. she's changed him from an anxious, private person to a person who is more open towards embracing challenges now and even more accepting towards all twists of fate. and most importantly, she's brought you to him.

she's given him his own family- one that he didn't even know he needed. but he's found a home away from home and it's the best part of his life. a family that doesn't judge him for being twenty-five and choosing to be a pro-gamer instead of a proper job as his own family had said. a family that lets him be clueless about life because they take care of him instead. a family that doesn't care about social appearances and going out, and chooses simple home barbecue with friends over getting drunk in clubs.

after he brushes his teeth, he walks out of the room to the living space, and finds you sitting with eunchae at the couch, who's sipping berry milkshake and colouring into her sketchbook. "look who's up, chaechae!" his daughter looks up and shouts out his name, and he scoots over and sits next to her on the couch, pulling her tiny legs into his own. you quickly shift your body away so that he doesn't crash into you, but wonwoo wishes you weren't so considerate. "i made coffee. and i'm going to make wraps with the leftovers from what you made yesterday. can you get her bathed after this? i'll get breakfast ready by then."

_

wonwoo hates it and loves it at the same time.

it being whenever the two of you drop eunchae at her school.

he hates it because he's always too sad to see his baby go off into school without even looking back at him once because she's just that excited to meet her friends. he hates it because all the parents assume that the two of you are a couple and keep asking you over to their houses for your kids to have playdates. he hates the other alternative too- when he clarifies that you're just friends, some of the mothers begin flirting with him too much and he's desperate for you to save him, but you totally encourage it. "you should start dating again, you know. it would do you good, now that eunchae's grown up." god no. it would do him no good- not when his heart is convinced that he's already dating a certain doctor who loves his daughter like her own.

and yet he loves it. he loves it because you stay beyond breakfast on these days, help him dress eunchae and also pamper her with a bubble bath. he loves it because you bathe in his shower on these days, and come out smelling like his shower gel. he loves it because you spend the entire day with him, talking to him about your patients and about your coworkers. he loves it because it's the only day he gets you completely to himself- he doesn't even schedule any events or streams on this day. it's his favourite day of the week, better than any weekend. he has a set plan for it, and it never fails. here's how it goes:

step 1 of the day- he drives around town and 'accidentally' stumbles upon a pretty-looking cafe that he suggests the two of you could try, and you, thankfully everytime, say yes.

"where do you wanna go today?" you ask him, and wonwoo's scared for a second that you've caught his act. no, surely not. "we could just drive around, you know."

step 1 success.

step 2 of the day- he offers to drop you home and let you rest, but you, thankfully everytime, never agree to his offer, saying that you want to enjoy a day out in the sun with him, because you're literally always stuck in the ER.

"i could drop you home. you could take a well-deserved break." "nah, i would much rather spend it with you. i'll just drown in my own head if i stay at home."

step 2 success.

step 3 of the d-

"we could go back to your place. we could binge the new series that's come out last friday. heard amazing reviews." you suggest casually, while scrolling something on your phone.

wonwoo actually almost crashes the car as he turns 90 degrees to look at you. this is unexpected. this is unprecedented. this has never happened before in the last three years of your whatever-ship.

"series?" when he speaks, his voice comes out weakly. "yeah, criminal and supernatural. just the genres we both love." fuck, you run a strong case.

wonwoo only hesitates for a second, before he makes a u-turn to go back home- because what's better than sitting across a table at a public cafe buying overpriced coffee? sitting together at the couch at home watching quality television.

_

wonwoo's too stressed about leaving eunchae behind with hansol and seungkwan. he's sure they'll mess up something or the other, but you're stern. "wonwoo, they'll be fine! she's four years old. grown up enough. and you know how much sollie and kwannie love her." "exactly- they love her too much. they'll never be able to say no to her." "and they won't have to. our eunchae is smart enough to not ask for unreasonable things. have faith in your parenting."

wonwoo wants to say: i have no faith in my parenting, but full faith in yours. but he doesn't. instead he quietly continues driving. it's your college reunion party- and it's the first time in years that you and wonwoo are attending. "i can't believe it's been five years since we got out of college." "well, eunchae's four."

you laugh, "you're right. wonwoo, i have no sense of time. it feels like only yesterday that we began talking in class." as you two walk into the hall decorated beautifully and filled with people, wonwoo's arm in yours. there are many known faces in the crowd ahead, but he can say, confidently and unbiasedly, that you're the most beautiful.

"don't remind me, please. it was so embarrassing to see seungcheol tell you that i had a crush on you." you laugh even harder, "but it was so funny! i didn't even know before that day, so i gotta thank seungcheol." "you look just as good as you did that day when i took your number." you look away for a second before looking up at him again. "is that so, mr jeon? you think i still look like a half-dead med student who's trying to survive with four hours of sleep and packed kimbap-" "no! don't misunderstand me," wonwoo fake-pouts at your fake-anger, and you both burst out laughing. "well, you don't have a crush on me anymore, so i'm certain the charm of the half-dead med student has worn off."

it's not, wonwoo's arm pulls you in tighter. god, he wishes he was not a coward. he wishes he could tell you that the charm has doubled, tripled, quadrupled every year, and he cannot imagine loving any woman as much as he loves you.

the evening definitely starts off better than wonwoo had expected. everyone seems to have forgotten how awkward and quiet wonwoo was back in college, and only remembered how good a gamer he was and how handsome he was back then. it's surprising how many people claim to be his fans here, and wonwoo feels his chest fill up. when he brings drinks for you both, he sees you speaking to rhea. "i see you've met y/n, rhea." "yes, well! i had no idea that she's so involved in taking care of our daughter."

our child? there's a spike of anger that rushes through his brain and wonwoo sees red. instinctively, your hand finds his own and squeezes his palm, a slight smile tugging at your lips, evidently asking him to back off. but wonwoo doesn't want to back off. even if rhea creates a scene right now, he doesn't care. he would much rather go home to his daughter rather than be here amidst people who don't even like him.

"i'm right glad you left eunchae with me when you did. y/n's raised her as her own daughter, and thank god we don't have to confuse her with another wannabe mother figure who didn't think before abandoning her."

rhea opens her mouth to say something, but you pull him away quickly, saying your goodbyes. you find the nearest exit, and pull wonwoo into the fresh air of the night.

"there was no need for snapping at her, wonwoo." you push him against a wall gently, rubbing your hand over his arms to ground him. "how dare she say eunchae's her child? she doesn't even know her name, for god's sake. she has no claim on her!" "she's literally her biological mother-" "so what? she dumped her on me, on you! you're a hundred times more her mother than rhea is!"

you stay stunned for a second, the wind blowing your hair away from your face. "what?"

"you've raised her, y/n. you're her mother, and i know eunchae will agree me 100% on-"

you take a step back. wonwoo takes a step forward, his heart panicking at the thought of losing you.

"wonwoo, i'm... i can't..."

"do you not realise it? why she calls you eomma?"

"but i- i don't mean to replace... i don't mean to take anyone's place..." another step back.

"whose place? there's literally no one else," another step ahead.

"your future wife... or girlfriend... or whoever will be her mother-" another step back and your back hits the wall.

wonwoo takes another step closer to you, towering over your figure. "there's going to be no one else. no one. no other mother figure in her life. or in mine."

you gulp, your breath still weak as you pant softly. "what are you saying wonwoo?"

"i'm saying i love you." fuck. that feels better to say out loud- a large boulder getting off his chest. he doesn't know what you're going to say, but it sure feels good to get it out. "i don't know how you feel. but i want to tell you how i feel, because i'm tired of being a coward. it's because i am coward that people like rhea have the audacity to say things like that. y/n, i've loved you for so many years now. my crush on you since that day seungcheol introduced us? never went away. not just because you're my best friend but also because you've taken care of me and given so much to me unconditionally through the years. without you- i wouldn't have been here, eunchae would've gone to another family through social services, and i would be a person living a hollow life with no love-"

"i would always be here, wonwoo. i'm your best friend-"

"but you've also become so much more. you've become my family, my saviour and guiding force, and my daughter's eomma. she wants nobody but you. i want nobody but you."

there's tears welling up in your eyes and wonwoo's heart aches. his hands automatically wrap around your face, wiping away the tears. "what's wrong, y/n-ie? i know this may have been a shock and you probably hate me for dumping this on-"

"i love you, jeon wonwoo!" your voice is weak, strangled.

"what?"

you twist your face to lightly peck at his hand that's cupping your cheeks. "i love you. i have loved you. i'm sorry i didn't know you felt the same way for so long..."

wonwoo's body melts and caves in. there was a wild tension which had been running in his body for so long but it dissipates totally now. he inches your face up towards him.

"shhhhh, baby. can i kiss you? i'm sick of loving you in secret. i want to show you how much i love you."

as soon as you nod, he leans in to claim your lips, your taste sweet like sugar and just as good as he had imagined it to be. your hands wrap around his shoulders, pulling him in closer towards you, your back completely flat against the wall. wonwoo grips your face and wraps around your waist at the same time.

it's honestly a miracle that you two haven't touched in the last three years where you've gotten so close. yes, the accidental brushing of hands, the affectionate hand patting hair, the playful punches and the mild tugging of arms. but nothing close to what wonwoo's wanted to do with you.

and now that you have started, he can't let go.

"baby?" his voice is raspy as he breaks the kiss, a string of spit linking your mouth to his, your chests heaving against each other. "yes?" "can you say it once more?" "hmm?" "you..." "i love you? yes i do." and wonwoo picks you up in his arms, not caring about how your legs flutter in the air as he spins around in joy. "what's this, jeon wonwoo! don't be a child!" "i'm just so happy." he finally puts you down, but doesn't let you get far.

"you know, it's such a wonderful conincidence that eunchae is safe with hansol and kwannie today. maybe we should take advantage?" the smirk on your lips give it all away, as you smack his chest. "and i thought you only loved me for your baby." "well, i intend to drive all mythical thoughts out of your pretty head tonight, baby."

[tacticaldiary]

hi hello, if you have the chance, could u write a ghost x reader of an overworked/ burnt out reader who faints or something. just stressed out overprotective ghost to warm our hearts <3

thank you so much xxx

Bone Tired

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort ; Fluff

Ghost knows she's been pushing herself but he didn't think it was this bad. She nearly gives him a goddamn heart attack by collapsing right in front of him.

"Don't make me tie you to the bed."

"Jokes on you, I'm into that." She snickers at the long-suffering sigh he lets out.

Masterlist

Just because they weren't deployed on a mission didn't mean things were any less busy for them back at base. Drills, morning runs, training, paperwork, and more; there was always something to keep them busy.

"Focus." The low timber of his voice snaps her out of her thoughts, dragging her back to the present. "I would've incapacitated you three times by now." Ghost says with a frown. Or at least she thinks he's frowning under that mask. He sure sounds like it.

"Yeah, sorry L.T." She blinks, widening her stance and dragging her tired mind to attention. Everything just felt...off. Her clothes were too itchy, the bright fluorescent lights hanging from the room were too prickly, and the training mat under her feet felt difficult to get her footing into. Maybe she was catching a bug? She'd been feeling mildly feverish the past few days, after all, sporting a headache she opted to power through with painkillers.

Grunts and groans and jeers echo around them as others take their turn to spar with each other. She'd already lost against Gaz once, a rare outcome in itself, and now she was pretty sure Ghost was going easy on her. She's surprised she isn't face-first on the mat right now, actually.

Blinking away the knowledge that her arms feel like lead and her mind foggy, she lunges at him with her fist, an attack easily parried and side stepped by the man.

In all honestly, she's known for a while that she needed a proper break. A few days to herself full of nothing. The last op she'd been on had been long and gruelling, a solo one at that, weeks' worth of trekking through a mountain range far south in the cold to get to an isolated camp where their target had been laying low. It was a success, but she swears she can still feel the snow bite into her flesh if she thinks too hard about it.

The moment she'd got back there had been debriefings with Price to attend, files to be reported to Laswell, all the while keeping up with her usual routine and drills...

Her eyes widen as she's spun around, an arm circling her throat and pinning her in a hold.

"You're sloppy." Ghost clicks his tongue from behind her, and if she were any less exhausted, maybe she would have felt a shiver go down her spine.

Here, they were just soldiers, but in private? That's a whole other story. Their relationship had to be kept under wraps for a multitude of reasons, but Simon was one of the best things that had ever happened to her. Having someone who understood her work, who shared the experience and knew exactly what she was talking about, who knew the best ways to comfort and listen and advise her...it was rare.

A rare and beautiful thing, that's what they had. They helped each other grow, made up for the others weaknesses and blind spots.

But they weren't in private right now, so after she taps his arm to concede, he pushes her away, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"Are you ill?" He asks tightly, eyes going up and down her body as if he could detect whatever was making her pause. She'd seemed fine the last time he saw her, but clearly something was wrong if she was this...dazed?

She shakes her head. "Just didn't sleep well last night." She lies through her teeth. She couldn't afford to be sick right now, couldn't afford the luxury of wasting time resting. She still had to report to Laswell, attend a meeting on what the next steps were to reach their targets close contacts. Then she promised Soap she'd hit the shooting range with him, and then Gaz asked her to help him with that paperwork he had to fill out...

Taking a step back, she stumbles a little.

It all bubbles up inside her, overwhelming and insurmountable, a mountain of work that keeps piling up to reach new heights and-

Was Ghost talking? She blinks, trying to get the ringing out of her ears. It was loud and annoying, and it made the headache she'd been sporting since yesterday stronger.

Ghost's eyes widen. He's definitely saying something. She hopes Simon knows she wasn't ignoring her on purpose. She was always good at reading him, so maybe if her vision would stop spotting and focus, she could actually see his eyes properly and figure out what was wrong.

In the end, the roaring in her ears becomes deafening, to the point where she squeezes her eyes shut. How easy would it be to just...stay like this. Just for one moment. To revel in the nothingness of the dark, where she got just one second of silence away from the list of things she had to keep doing.

Just one more moment.

Another step back, an unsteady sway.

She hits the ground hard, the last thing she hears being the yell of her name from that familiar, rough voice.

                                  · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Bleary eyes blink themselves awake, squinting against the warm glow of the lamp by her bedside table. Groaning, she attempts to sit up, only to widen her eyes in alarm when a hand firmly pushes her back.

Instincts kicking in, her hand flies up to latch onto the wrist in a weak grip.

"It's just me." The low voice has her relaxes instantly, hand falling away onto the bed.

"Simon." She says, surprised when her voice doesn't come out as more than a whisper. "Where...what happened?" She winces at the throbbing in her head as she takes in the scene. Simon settled down in a chair next to her, a book laying open faced on her side table.

"You passed out." He says, plainly worried. "The medics said you fainted from exhaustion. Ain't that something to explain, love?" Now that he's ditched the mask, she can see the creases of worry in his forehead, the downwards quirk of his lips. "Damn near gave me a heart attack."

"Passed out?" She echoes, trying to remember. "I...guess I did."

She sure feels like it. Her body feels like lead, as if it's doing everything it can to ensure she stays in bed. Shivering slightly, she looks around for another blanket. When she reaches for the fluffy duvet folded at the foot of her bed, it's immediately snatched out of reach by Simon.

"Give it." She demands, reaching a hand out.

"You have a fever." Simon shakes his head, holding the item out of reach. "It'll break quicker this way."

"I'm fine." She protests, managing to sit up this time under his unimpressed stare. "I'm alright, Simon. Can't afford to be sick right now."

"That's not how it works." He sighs, standing up. "I thought I'd hurt you for a moment." She watches him walk towards the small table near the opposite wall, fiddling with something there while he talked. "Damn near took a year of my life away with how you crumpled onto the mat."

"It wasn't you." She assures him quickly. Some of the tension visibly drains from his shoulder in what she can only assume is relief. Needless as it is, she feels a little guilty. How long had he been thinking her passing out had been his fault? No, this was on her, on her busy schedule and-

Wait, what time was it?

Dread curls up in her gut as she slowly turns towards the small window. The lamp was on when she woke up, of course it was night.

"I was just tired is all." She says, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "But I'm as fresh as a daisy now, and I've got so much shit to do." She lets out an anxious, long breath as her brain kicks in, charting how much time she'd lost, how quickly she'd need to work to get it all done-

"I have that meeting with Laswell...I wonder if Price thinks I just didn't show up to his office..." She doesn't realise she's been muttering her thoughts aloud until Ghost cuts her off.

"You're not going anywhere, sweetheart." He declares over his shoulder. "Get your ass back in bed."

"I can't, there's too much I have to do today." She protests. "And I've already lost half the day-"

"I wasn't asking."

"Simon-" He turns around and she finally sees what he's been doing.

"Don't make me tie you to the bed." His threat is much less effective when he's holding one of her mugs that says 'Bad Bitch' in obnoxious neon pink calligraphy, the phrase surrounded by a flowery border. She'd got it for him as a gag gift for his last birthday and had cackled at the dead, unimpressed stare he fixed her with. It had remained in his room for a while before she'd snatched it, claiming she'd actually appreciate it.

"Jokes on you, I'm into that." She snickers at the long-suffering sigh he lets out. Her laughs morph into a deep chest-rattling cough that wipes the smile off her face and leaves her wincing.

Sitting next to her after tossing the pillow onto the mattress, he brings the warm mug of tea up to her. "Easy does it." He mutters quietly when she grabs it from him and takes a drink.

"Thank you." She sighs, handing it back.

"Talk to me." He orders, not unkindly. Simon wasn't someone who was all lovey-dovey, but he loved just as hard and much as the next person. Just because he didn't choose to flourish it with pretty words and smiles doesn't mean she felt any less cared for.

He was a man of action, through and through.

Little touches throughout the day, silent glances checking in with her. Staying by her side during missions, working in tandem and recognising when she needed space versus when she needed him near.

He was her other half, and it had been eating away at him that he didn't fucking realise she was this unwell until the consequences caught up with her.

Ghost won't admit the primal flash of fear that struck through him when she'd crumpled to the ground like that. He thought he'd hurt her while sparring, that he'd done something to make her pass out like that. Even after the medics cleared her and he carried her here, tucked her in and everything, there was still a nagging worry of 'what-if' in his mind.

The relief of hearing her confirm it wasn't him was tainted by the knowledge that he hadn't noticed her pushing herself.

After a moment of deliberation, she gives in, tucking herself back into bed and thinking for a moment. She tells him everything, tells him how she hasn't had a second to herself in these past few days, telling him about the load she has on her shoulders and the crushing time limit ticking down in her ears for every task she had.

He listens quietly, to his credit, doesn't interrupt her even when she trails off, having to muster up the energy to keep going.

The fact that talking tired her out to this degree made his heart twist uncomfortably.

"I didn't think I had a choice but to take it all head on." She finishes, stifling a yawn. She looks up at him for his response when he doesn't talk, finds him staring at her with a half-lidded gaze, a furrow in his brow.

"Why didn't you ask me?"

"Ask you what?" She asks, confused.

"For help."

That was...a good question. It takes her a second to come up with a sheepish answer. "I...I didn't think of that." She admits, drawing out another quiet sigh from him.

"You're going to be the death of me." He grumbles, but she can't complain when he's gently tugging her to the side and climbing in with her under the covers. "I've sorted things out with Price and Laswell. Do whatever else you need to when you're capable of not face planting into the mats again."

A warm feeling of gratitude washes over her, her heart warming with the kind gesture. It was so...it was so Simon.

When he tangles their legs together and tucks her into his side, she wrinkles her nose. "I'm all sweaty." She tries to argue, tapping at his shoulder half-heartedly when he lays down with her, a strong arm around her waist pulling her in.

"I've had your blood on my hands before, I don't think sweat is going to be a problem." She can hear his voice rumble low in his chest, right under where he head rests, and she hides a smile in the fabric of his shirt.

When he runs a hand through her hair, she practically melts against him.

Eventually, her shivering stops, replaced with a bone-deep warmth that nothing could chase away. Simon. The warmth of him, of his care, of his love. She'd take it over a heatpack any day.

His arms around her make her relax. Nothing would nag at her, drag her away to chain her to a desk under Simon's watch, that much she knows. Safe. Protected. The feeling was rare living the life she did with her job, but Simon made it so easy to believe that she was untouchable as long as she was with him.

Before she knows it, her eyes flutter shut and her breathing evens out, because goddamn did the bastard know exactly where and how to touch her to get her all sleepy and relaxed.

"Thank you." She mumbles against him, words half incoherent.

"Always, love." He rumbles back, brushing his lips over her head.

Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!

(16/07/2023)

[mochinomnoms]

Riddle + Yuu’s telepathy for an hour+ Floyd next to him= Why is Riddle looking like he is about to have another Ob?

He now know Floyd is into him, more wild if Floyd has the same 18+ thoughts as Jade. Riddle’s hair is becoming white and his cheeks go as red as his hair because Floyd is also thinking of the most domestic scenarios with him.

He can’t catch a fucking break.

Worse if Yuu and Jade are there. Holy fuck Riddle will die.

When you begged Riddle to let you test your new power and transfer your telepathy over for just a class period, he was just trying to be a good friend.

And he was mildly curious how your mind reading powers worked. He was under the assumption that you had to choose a specific person and listen into their thoughts for it to work. Which made your predicament with Jade all the more humorous to him. If you were so bothered by it all, then why did you listen in?

My cute little Riddle~ Aaaah, you're so bright. So red. I love your red hair, your red cheeks when your mad. Should I call you Goldfishie again? To piss you off? So you can yell at me with those pretty gray eyes and voice? Aha, maybe I should~

I think I should beg for the Prefect's forgiveness after this. I am so, so sorry. I didn't realize how bad it was.

Riddle had no clue how you handled the influx of noise, color, and feeling bashing into your head all day. It was like having a horn ringing straight into his ear while a truck's headlights flashed right in his eyes.

Even worse than that? He could make out the singular, most irritating noise, louder than the rest.

My little goldfish, my little tyrant, my little Riddle~

The bane of his existence. The enforcer of Octavinelle. Currently, the third-tallest student at Night Raven College.

"Uh, Riddle?"

Riddle took a deep breath, closing his eyes and turning towards Silver with a polite smile.

"Yes, Silver?"

Silver opened his mouth, closed it again as he paused, and opened it again.

"Are you alright?"

Cute little goldfish~ So bright and red~

"Yes." Riddle ignored the heat pooling under his face. "Why do you ask?"

"You're incredibly red right now. I think even your hair looks pink compared to your face."

Riddle made a strangled sounding noise as he buried his head into his arms and hid against the desk.

"Riddle?" Silver sounded concerned, and Riddle could sense his hands hovering over him, like he wasn't sure if Riddle needed a pat on the back, or to be left alone.

"I'm fine, I just need a moment—"

"Little Goldfishie~"

Riddle bolted up, his head nearly smacking against Floyd's chin based on the way the teal-haired man felt backwards.

"Wow! Cool it Goldfishie!" Aw, he's so cute! "Just tryin' to say hi~"

The image of himself in Floyd's arms and lap, nuzzled up against each other as the other contentedly played with his hands flashed in his head.

My goldfishie! My little red tyrant! My Riddle! Mine, mine mineminemineminemine—

"NO I'M NOT!"

The room went silent, everyone looking over at the group of three. Noticing that Riddle and Floyd were interacting, everyone shrugged and resumed their conversations after a moment.

"Uh, what?" Floyd looked and sounded confused. Now that Riddle was paying attention to him though, he could make out a soft look in his eye.

Aw, are you red 'cause you're sick? Is my mean little mate sick?

Mate? Mate?! MATE! OH GODS NO!

Do I gotta take you to the nurse? I can do it! Anything for my future mate! Aha~ I love my mate, I'll take such good care of you.

Riddle was met with another image of Floyd and himself in another...sweet scenario. One where Floyd was watching him sleep in with one of the most tender looks Riddle had ever imagined on Floyd's face. As he slept, Floyd played with the coral colored ring on his left ring finger.

"Nothing! It's nothing! I'm fine!" Riddle scrambled out of his chair, face still warm and his stomach nauseous.

"I think I'm just feeling a bit feverish, I think I will step out for a bit—"

"You want someone to take ya to the nurse?" Floyd asked, while Silver nodded along. "I can take ya, come on Lil' Goldfishie—"

"I DON'T NEED AN ESCORT!" Riddle shut his mouth as soon as he opened it, some of the other students giving him a look for his volume.

Aw what, come on! Floyd frowned, though it breifly was hidden by one of Floyd's lazy smiles as he shrugged.

"Whatever you say~" Floyd cooed, his eyes following Riddle as he rushed out of the classroom. Riddle could feel his entire body heating up, like Floyd knew that he knew.

Once he was out of the classroom, he near bolted to the nearest bathroom. Locking the door behind him, Riddle turned to look at himself in the mirror.

He was indeed his characteristic shade of red. Instead of his usual angry expression, though, was one of fluster and breathlessness.

Riddle let out a small, high-pitched whimper as he turned for the faucet for some cold water, splashing it on his face. He looked up at the mirror again, cheeks still bright red, and let out a whine.

I will never make light of you again, Prefect, I promise.

[meidui]

fics about tony's aging

rough enough for love by @silkspectred

The first time they had sex was right after their first kiss. Steve dropped to his knees and then Tony reciprocated after making Steve lie down on the bed. The second time it was Steve that initiated it, slow handjobs under the hot spray of the shower, and Tony looked surprised by it. Like it was weird that Steve wanted it. Wanted him.

No Better Version of Me by talesofsuspense

When Tony announces his retirement publicly, he’s not ashamed to admit he cries.

It Will Be This, Always by @pineapplebread

Steve has started to notice recently that Tony shies away from his reflection, and finds him cataloging and criticizing his scars and greying hair. Steve finds it unacceptable that Tony sees himself as anything but beautiful and perfect.

Sixty by @sibmakesart

Tony's sixtieth birthday is coming.

will you still want me (when i'm nothing new) by meidui

It's the night of their wedding rehearsal dinner and Tony doesn't love his aging. Steve does.

Mitigation of the Mildly Miserable by @deervsheadlights

Tony wakes up to the realization that not only is he getting old, but somewhere along the way, he has also put on a noteworthy amount of chub.

Iron Man has a pouch. Wow.

A Love's Work by PGHumfort

“You’re too patient with me.” Tony replied, quietly resigned.

There had been a difficult time in Tony’s 60s, after some tabloid had published a series of pictures, gathered over the course of a few months, and titled it ’15 times Tony Stark looked like his husband’s dad’. Tony had sunken into a feverish spiral, searching for a ‘cure’ for aging while simultaneously trying to convince Steve to divorce him, because he was only going to get older.

It had taken time and long nights of talking and lovemaking to bring his husband back into the moment with him. Somehow, Tony had forgotten that Steve meant the ‘until death do us part’ portion of their vows.

four footprints (side by side) by @ladymacbethsarmy

Tony laughs mirthlessly, “I always thought I’d die as Iron Man,” he says, and it’s nothing Steve doesn’t know because Tony never held back, never hesitated back then. His eyes always said huh, maybe next time. “I didn’t think I’d make it to my sixties. And now I’m sixty two and I have no idea what awaits me.”

“A very long vacation?” Steve offers weakly, and is surprised when Tony laughs.

Silver Fox by @arukou-arukou

Howard's motto was "Stark men are made of iron." Tony's is "Never let 'em see you bleed."

[hourcat]

"You're being particularly annoying." For Piarles <3

Pierre is still a lump on the couch when Charles pads back into the living room, partially-peeled banana in hand. Of course the only time his boyfriend knows when to get sick is during summer break--the too-short month of reprieve that they can never seem to spend properly year after year. Last year, Charles got sunburnt so badly during the week he'd gone off to Brazil on his yacht that he'd been untouchable for five whole days: Pierre had spent a majority of the first few rubbing aloe all over him and keeping him perched in front of the window AC unit.

This year, apparently, Pierre has the flu and has been pretty firmly rooted to the couch in his Milan apartment for the last 15 hours.

Charles tries to tiptoe his way over to the coffee table to leave the banana for Pierre whenever he wakes up, but his weight lands wrong on one of the creakier floorboards, and sure enough--

"Charles?" Pierre sounds groggy and disoriented as he lurches awake, blankets half thrown off him only to reveal just how sweaty his bare chest is.

It would probably be sexier if Charles weren't so concerned with keeping him from, you know, dying. "Hey," Charles says soothingly, striding the rest of the way to Pierre's side. He sinks to his knees and uses his free hand to push Pierre back into sleeping posture. "It's okay, Pear. Go back to sleep, I've got a banana for you when you feel like eating." He's not going to force the issue right now, since Pierre hadn't been able to keep the rice from earlier down: fluids are the priority, and his glass of water is mostly drained, which is good. Charles rests the banana on the table and picks the glass up, beginning to push back to his feet--

"Charlo," Pierre groans, reaching for the closest part of Charles he can find. His hand is too-hot as it grasps his bicep firmly. It makes Charles shiver.

"I'm here, petit. What is it?"

Pierre groans again, softer this time. "Your hand..." he lets go of Charles' arm only to tap insistently at his wrist, jostling the cool glass he's holding. "Looks cold." He sighs, then releases Charles only to flop backwards, a little dramatically, onto the couch. He watches as Pierre's eyes flutter closed, like he's going to fall asleep, but doesn't do anything until one eye cracks open. Waiting. Charles wants to laugh at how far he regresses whenever he's mildly inconvenienced like this--although, realistically he probably doesn't have a whole lot of room to talk himself.

"Yeah," he murmurs instead, setting the glass back down. He sits at the edge of the cushion and presses his hand, wet from condensation, to Pierre's forehead. (Which--he's still feverish. Maybe he'll need the thermometer again this evening after all.) "Here, P. Like that?" The rumbly noise Pierre makes in response is all he needs. "I have you, squid." Charles sits there for a few moments longer, then collects more of the condensation on his palm again and reapplies his hand. Pierre sighs. "Maybe we can get you into a cold shower soon, hm?"

At that, the Frenchman groans. "Later," is his response, followed by "don't wanna move" in that petulant whine Pierre always uses when he's trying to keep Charles in bed. It always annoys him a little--but today, at least, he'll cut his boyfriend some slack.

"Okay, Pierre," he hums, removing his hand once more. The glass isn't nearly as cool anymore, likely from the heat of his palm, so Charles grabs it once again and moves to head back to the kitchen for a refill. When he stands, though, Pierre whines again, then coughs and tries to re-pitch it as a groan. Idiot, he thinks lovingly. "What is it?"

Pierre pouts. "Don't go," he mumbles, reaching for him again as if he's not just standing upright beside the couch. "Please, Charlie."

Charles can't stop the laugh that slips out. "Pierre, my love," he hums, squatting back down to be eye-level with Pierre, "I have to go get you more water, and probably more paracetamol. I'm not going anywhere." But the pout settled on Pierre's lips seems to only get deeper upon explanation. "Pear."

"Pleaseeeeee," Pierre groans. "You are the only medicine I neeeeeed."

"Said like a man who ignores his trainer even better than he drives." He gets a cough-giggle from his patient, at least: Charles ignores the next pitiful moan and speeds to Pierre's kitchenette, where he grabs the paracetamol from where he'd left it on the countertop and then refills the glass with ice and water. (Sure, Pierre is annoyingly clingy when he's sick, but...Charles can't help but enjoy it at least a little. An unabashedly-snuggly Pierre is such a rare occurrence that Charles sometimes forgets how insufferable he gets when he's under the weather.) Now properly armed, he makes his way back into the living room, where...Pierre is flopped out again, eyes closed and mouth open. He's breathing (Charles checks every time) and he's got the blankets mostly up over his chest, so he must've just fallen back asleep.

Probably for the better. It's not going to get any easier, maneuvering him into his bathroom for a shower, but if he's gotten enough sleep, he'll be fine for the ten or so minutes it'll take for Charles to scrub him down.

"Rest up," he murmurs as he returns to Pierre's orbit. He sets the water glass down alongside the little orange tablets and sinks to his knees once more, just to press a kiss to Pierre's sweaty, kind-of-cooled forehead--

Only for Pierre's arms to fly out and grab hold of him, surprising him thoroughly as he tugs Charles onto the couch on top of him. Charles doesn't even have a chance to put up a fight from the shock. "Ha-ha!" His laugh is honking and loud and right in Charles' ear. "I have you, cheri."

"Pi-erre," he groans in response, trying unsuccessfully to untangle himself from the mess of blankets and limbs that Pierre is now attempting to cocoon him in. "Come on, you need to rest--"

"Shush," Pierre interrupts, matter-of-factly. "I sleep best when you are with me, Cha, you know that." There's that whine again. "You got me my paracetamol, and my water, and now you can be my medicine." His arms tighten around Charles' torso, and Charles just sighs, knowing he can't really wrestle his boyfriend without doing more damage.

"I'm supposed to be taking care of you, you know," he mutters instead, shifting so that he's no longer crushing Pierre under his bodyweight but now tucked firmly into the space between Pierre's feverish body and the back cushions of the couch. "Can't do that here."

"Mmmm," Pierre answers, clumsily stretching his tangle of blankets so it covers the both of them, "you are taking care of me just fine here, mon ange." One arm drapes over him. "See? Medicine."

But he's too warm to cuddle comfortably with the blankets, and Charles knows he's going to have to worm his way out of this one eventually because he will, in fact, have to actually get Pierre to take the pills sitting on the table. "You're being particularly annoying," he says under his breath as Pierre tugs him closer.

The sentiment just gets him a rumbly laugh in return.

[sinni-ok-sessi]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ���

(💜💜💜)

at first I was like 'lol have I even written five fics?' but no, I have written a whole 23 at this point, yay me

these are ordered by recency rather than favoritism necessarily but:

the future moves under our feet (Nirvana in Fire, 12k, rated T, LC/MCS/XJY) - there are definitely bits of this I wish I could do a more skilful job with, but also I'm really pleased with a lot of the conversations here. The LC/MCS exchanges in particular gave me such joy to write, and I love these characters so much that writing them was just me typing a line and then giddily grinning to myself, or occasionally tearing up. You know, the usual NiF fic experience.

Make a Mercy Out of Me (The Disguiser, 2k, rated E, ML/MC) - I went mildly insane after episode 23 and wrote this in a feverish daze. I am not one of this world's natural smut writers, but as this caters to Me, Personally, I remain quite pleased by how it turned out

Breathe in For Luck (Mysterious Lotus Casebook, 8k, rated T, LLH/various) - sometimes a fic just happens to you, and that was the case here. I had one night of insomnia, wrote most of the first chapter, and then basically did nothing else with my free time for the next week. I love writing conversations in which everyone is feeling a lot and not saying it, or expressing it sideways, and I also love characters who are so blunt it hurts, so I had a great time with some of these chapters.

And Green the Ground Below (The Untamed, 6k, rated G, LXC & WN) - I'm not sure how well the horticultural elements stand up here, but as a meditation on grief and guilt and learning to be alive when you're not sure you want to be, I'm very proud of it.

The Winding Roads, They Led Me Here (The Bletchley Circle, 1k, rated G, unrequited Millie/Susan) - another one I wrote in a state of feverish possession. I don't think I've written anything else in the 2nd person before or since, but I think it really works here. (I can neither confirm nor deny that this fic was me processing Some Stuff about an unrequited crush of my own, but I think this stands as both cathartic and quite good in its own right.)

[adhd-merlin]

thinking about them again -- here's a couple bite-sized early-days-arwen ficlets I enjoyed:

Dear to Me (509 words) by railise Summary: Arthur is pouty when feverish. Early S3. (For the prompt:  Arthur is jealous of Merlin and Gwen's friendship.)

"You never skulk about the castle with me." Arthur's pout had crossed royal territory and was on its way to reaching legendary status. Gwen suppressed her sigh, reminding herself that he was wounded and feverish and not thinking clearly. "I do not 'skulk,' my lord," she said patiently, tying off the fresh bandage on his chest. "You skulk," he muttered, almost accusingly. "You and Merlin, always skulking about."

totally locked up by you (668 words) by seadeepy Summary: Arthur dawdles on the way to training to sneak a kiss from a certain servant.

"Your Highness," she says, mildly surprised. "Please, just Arthur," Arthur says in a low voice, glancing up and down the hall once more, to be certain. "At least when we're alone." A trace of that smile curls at the corner of Gwen's lips again. "We're hardly alone," she points out. "Someone could come by at any moment. And aren't you supposed to be at training right now?" Her eyes widen. "I mean, not that I'm telling you what to do or anything like that, I just thought..." "Merlin does it all the time," Arthur gripes, "so why not you too?" He pauses. "And you're a lot prettier than he is."

[sharkbeneaththelotus]

Pangzi wears Xiaoge as a backpack I HAVE TOO MANY FEELINGS ONLY PANGYE CAN CONTAIN THEM ALL:

He first does it on the way out of the desert, the sun scorching their combined backs and the air bitterly cold. Xiaoge keeps his back shaded, and Pangzi keeps Xiaoge's front warm. He's too light; his wrists dangle down like driftwood wind chimes, but he's warm and breathing.

Pangzi puts his emptied pack back on over Xiaoge, and pulls the straps tight. Ahead of them, Wu Xie slogs doggedly along the path picked out by his compass, and Pangzi puts his head down and walks.

Xiaoge breathes cool air over his sweaty neck and the fabric trapped between them grows sodden with their combined body heat. At the edges, where sweat wicks into exposed cotton, the wind chills it instantly to ice. Pangzi can't tell if that's a relief from the burning heat, or the worst shit he's ever felt. He spends way too long thinking about it, one foot in front of the other, trudging onwards towards the camp Wu Xie insists exists.

He hopes Xiaoge doesn't mind having Pangzi's sweat on him; there's no way the Great Zhang Qiling is sweating. Hah!

---

The second time is soon enough after the first that Pangzi wonders whether Xiaoge was awake enough to remember that journey, because Xiaoge fits himself onto Pangzi's back like he is a backpack.

He's exhausted, mildly feverish, and only got off the tubes and monitors a day ago. Pangzi should not have brought him out to the gardens without a wheelchair to haul him back after. But he'd needed to see Xiaoge amongst green and growing things, and he was right; Xiaoge had come alive with plants to molest with his Zhang fingers. He'd even taken his slippers off before walking on the grass, so now Pangzi has to deal with pale green stains on his trousers, where Xiaoge's feet brush against the white fabric.

"Hup we go..." He warns, and Xiaoge curls tighter over his shoulders, bony elbows jabbing his collarbones as though Xiaoge's joints are just suggestions rather than actual rules. Bony and boneless, please make your mind up, Xiaoge.

He feels Xiaoge's sigh against the back of his neck, then the press of a sharp nose against the muscles between neck and shoulder; it was too much input, Pangzi should have known it would be. Back to the quiet room in the stroke ward he goes, Xiaoge's slippers dangling from his fingers and the man himself doing half the work of holding on to Pangzi's back.

Experimentally, Pangzi lightens his grip on Xiaoge's thighs, and the grip only gets firmer.

He lets go completely, and Xiaoge hold himself in place without problem.

"Hah! I'm one big mamma, and you're a baby monkey, ah?" He jokes, putting his hands back under Xiaoge's knees so the poor man can rest a bit. Xiaoge sighs heavily and goes limp as a sand bag.

"Alright, alright, this way..."

He gets a few strange looks, and is challenged by a security guard, but the band on Xiaoge's wrist is as good as a passport, and back they go.

---

The third time, Xiaoge isn't even ill.

As far as Pangzi can tell, and he's getting good at this hazy-eyed version of their Xiaoge, he's just grumpy. Their walk through the old streets of the antiques district had been peppered with quiet announcements about fake goods, and Pangzi had had to stop Xiaoge telling the whole market about it. They couldn't take that kind of heat! And Xiaoge didn't have a sword!

He'd been able to tell at a glance, in most cases, and occasionally with a touch, and apparently he had been restraining himself for their entire acquaintance, because the twist of his lip at the worst of the forgeries is hilarious. And going to get them both beaten straight out of the market.

He gets mulish about leaving, and Pangzi off-handedly threatens to carry him back to his shop and put him up in the window for sale, at which point Xiaoge climbs onto his back and hunkers there like a barnacle.

His hood brushes against Pangzi's freshly clipped undercut, and he feels the brush of eyelashes against the skin of the back of his neck, and Xiaoge goes tense all over in a shiver, then lax again.

Pangzi grabs him under his knees, hefts him up a little, and accepts that technically he did offer.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

hi, how are u? im not one to make any requests but hmm- being married to wakasa and all of a sudden hes thinking its a good time to have a baby? like he wakes up and a little light goes on in his head when he sees you taking care of a baby?? idkkkk but i melting when think about waka being a dad... (ignore it if it bothers u)

The Godson: Wakasa Imaushi x Fem!Reader

wc: 532

tw: fluff

masterlist

"You want a hot dog or a hamburger?"

"Hamburger!"

Waka looks down at the various tykes running around his legs, eyeing each with a sense of...

"Waka, are you hungry?" Keizo appears in his field of vision, the bulky man holding a Diet Coke and a plate full of fresh fruit.

"Uh..." Waka whispers, his hair flying into his face as a slight breeze tousles his locks. "No, thanks. I'll just--"

"Daddy, can you put me on your shoulders?" Keizo looks at his daughter, who is wide-eyed and pleading with him silently.

"Once you're done eating," Keizo answers, smiling. "Go play with your friends for a bit." The girl runs off, and Wakasa watches her, her black locks similar to Keizo's before he dyed his hair white. His wife comes up behind him, her stomach round and full with another child. A son.

Wakasa walks off toward the kitchen, where you're standing, gossiping with the others and holding a wine glass. He gives you a small smile, then ducks into the bathroom, clutching his chest. He inhales deeply, then exhales again, frowning. What is this feeling? It's a tight feeling, one that's mildly uncomfortable and kind of... weird.

Only when he's lying in bed and spooning you does he realize what that feeling is: jealousy. Wants and needs he had previously buried upon reflecting on his childhood come bubbling back up, and in the morning, he sits up and inhales deeply.

"Mmmm," you groan, sensing Waka's departure from your side. "What's wrong, baby?"

"I think we should try for a baby." I want to be a father.

"You think so?" you ask groggily, yawning. "You really want to try?"

"Yeah," Waka murmurs. "I want to."

It's impossible to convince Waka otherwise. He's eager to try, start a family, begin the second half of his life, and explore fatherhood with his friends. It's evident in how he keeps you from getting to work on time with his feverish kisses and bucking hips, how he feeds you well before promoting cuddling by the TV, and the physical closeness that was once reserved for date nights.

"Are you feeling okay?" Wakasa asks weeks later, pulling you close and kissing the space beneath your earlobe.

"I'm feeling good," you answer lovingly. "Actually, I feel great."

"Good." Waka opens his phone and looks at the ovulation calendar with interest before putting it back in his pocket. "Do you think we would be good parents?"

"I think you'd be an amazing father," you coo, kissing his cheek. "You're always so gentle and kind. And you'd be so good with babies."

"I've never held one in my life," Waka chuckles, frowning. "I should probably get some practice."

That practice includes holding Keizo's second child, the newborn cooing and gurgling with closed eyes. Wakasa isn't sure how everything's supposed to go, but when Keizo advises him on holding his godson, Waka finds comfort in looking at the child and imagining it's his own.

"Think you can handle it?" Keizo wonders, chuckling at the way Waka precariously holds his child.

"I think I can..." Waka murmurs, smiling down at the baby and stroking his cheek. "I'm ready for this."

[kazewhara]

sweet time.

# — pairing: kazuha x gn!reader

# — characters: gender neutral reader, kazuha

# — summary: literally just making out with kazuha. completely self-indulgent.

# — warnings: mildly suggestive content. minors beware.

# — tags: fluff, lots o' kissing, maybe a neck kiss here and there, lil bit of teasing, zuzu is losing their actual fucking mind

# — notes: ..i swear i'm just your average kazuha enjoyer. reblogs and reactions are greatly appreciated, and i hope you enjoy!

wanna join the tag list?

✧ — 🍁 — ✧

when kissing kazuha, you always take your sweet time.

it's languid, the way your lips move against his. slow and almost methodical, as if kissing him is a science. kazuha's return kisses are light; playful. teasing and impish, the way he grins into each kiss; passionate, the way he appeases you when he's teased you for too long.

your fingers rest comfortably on the back of kazuha's neck while his hand rests on your cheek. from up close, you can see the gold in his eyes -- it shimmers as he scans your features. for what, you're not sure.

"looking for something?" you murmur your question into the space between.

kazuha's eyes jump from your lips and back up. "no," he murmurs in return. "just admiring." when you fluster slightly, kazuha leans in and brushes his lips over yours, drawing a gasp from your chest. "you're a work of art, my love. so divine." his voice drops to a whisper.

you're at a loss for words. all you can do is kiss him fully and pour all of the devotion you feel into the gesture. kazuha meets you halfway and does the same, his mouth warm against your own.

soft. so impossibly soft, he is. the gentle pecking of you do turns into longer, slower kisses. no longer can you see the way kazuha's eyes are hooded when he pulls back and looks at you. you can only feel his body pressing closer and closer to yours as your kisses deepen. you lick at the seam of his lips and he grants you access, opening just enough for you to brush your tongue against his. kazuha shivers subtly in your hold and you can feel the heat rising up his neck each time your tongues meet.

the kiss comes to a standstill when you gently take his bottom lip between your teeth. you tug ever so slightly, and you can hear his sharp intake of breath. when you pull away, you see the color that's resting high on his cheeks. kazuha's dazed by you, and you think you can almost see the hearts that are dancing in his irises.

you try to say something witty but kazuha is kissing you again, feverish this time. he's picking up the pace, his fingers twitching against your skin when you sigh into his mouth. it's a bit of an afterthought, but you realize that he tastes of the tea that you two drank earlier. roses bloom behind your lids whenever kazuha parts his lips for you -- only you. the sound of your lips connecting makes is like music to your ears.

usually, when kissing kazuha, you take your sweet time. but there are times when he gets impatient -- when he loses his composure and leans into the greed that he keeps locked away.

you satisfy his cravings for you by slowing down the kiss. you try to get him to savor it. this time, it is you who pulls away first. kazuha is the one who chases after your lips this time, a frustrated huff leaving him. you chuckle and he pinches your side in an effort to quiet you.

"take your time, kazuha." you croon at him. you keep yourself just out of reach, much to his annoyance. "i'm not going anywhere."

it's not often that he's on the receiving end of such taunts. kazuha narrows his hazy eyes at you, his brows furrowed. "i'm aware." he mutters. "but i'd prefer if you stopped teasing me."

"you can dish it out but you can't take it, huh?"

"you're really pushing it, dove."

"what's the magic word?" a grin splits your face when kazuha rolls his eyes. he's getting more and more antsy by the second, as indicated by the way he's drumming his fingers on your side. you think he's going to pinch you again, but he doesn't. he stays quiet instead. "not gonna say it?" you ask. "then can you let go of--"

kazuha's arms encircle your waist and he drops his head onto your shoulder with a sigh. "...are you really going to make me say it?"

you snicker. "maybe. do you want more kisses?"

"when did my petal become so cruel?" kazuha turns his head and noses at your neck. he finds your most sensitive spot in an instant -- he has you memorized by now. lips brush against your skin and when you shiver, you can feel his smug smile. "is something the matter, petal? you've gone stiff."

in pure kazuha fashion, he's trying to regain the upper hand. if only everyone else knew he resorted to such underhanded tactics. "you still haven't asked," you breathe, your voice tight. "you have to let go of me."

kazuha hums and lazily presses kiss after kiss against your neck. "but you're warm." you can feel his words more than you can hear them. he licks a slow stripe up to your jaw and kisses the skin there, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest when your hand comes up to grab at his hair to keep him in place. "oh? you want more?"

cocky bastard.

you struggle to find your voice as he starts to suck on your skin. teeth nip and your neck stings with the creation of fresh marks. you can feel the way kazuha steadily paints your neck with purples and reds. "yes," you stammer, your voice airy, "but at least i'm not afraid to admit it." you challenge him with your words. it's the only way you two do battle with each other.

"and who said i was afraid?" kazuha stops and straightens himself out to look you in the eye. there's something richer in his eyes -- something darker. goosebumps start to litter your skin.

"you still haven't asked." you can't believe he actually took the bait. "if you're not scared, then say it. tell me what you want."

kazuha's stare is intense. the autumnal shades of red in his eyes threaten to take you under. he's quiet as he thinks of the right words to say, and you have to keep yourself afloat in the meantime. then, he finally speaks. so plain, so simple. "kiss me."

it sounds like a demand, but you know it's a request. kazuha's bandaged hand comes up and rests comfortably on your neck. his grip is firm -- not squeezing, but comfortable. wrapped fingers encircle your neck and flex, and your pulse flutters beneath his fingertips. in turn, you gently rest your fingers on kazuha's pulse point, your nails lightly raking his skin. you can feel him run his fingers over the marks he'd made earlier.

"again," you whisper. "one more time."

kazuha obeys. "kiss me, petal." his eyes drop to your lips. back to square one. "please."

you'd be a monster if you denied him. you lean in and oblige him.

when kazuha kisses you back, he takes his sweet time. he sighs into your mouth, pleased, and the cycle begins once more.

✦ ... i literally cannot say anything to defend myself. y'all know what i'm about.

✦ but okay look, in my defense, the kazuha x reader tag is drying out and i want kazu kissing content. i had to take matters into my own hands, your honor.

✦ hhhh god i want to kiss him so fucking bad.

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Day 25 -- Mason

The (nsfw) details for Kinktober, Day 25 are just below the cut!

Minors, please don't interact.

Pet Play with Mason x F! Sole

Is this a little stereotypical for Mason? Maybe. Does that mean it's any less fun and smexy? Hopefully not.

First time writing for this guy (I think🤔) and I've gotta say, it was a blast 😅

I hope you enjoy! 😁

Here is the link to my Kinktober 2022 Event list so you can stay up-to-date, or re-visit these works as you please.

Included: Pet Play, aphrodisiacs (fever blossom), dom/sub dynamics, spanking, begging, teasing, praise kink, rough sex, drugged sex, marking, claiming, creampie, orgasm control, mildly dubious consent.

3.1k words.

--

"Aw, puppy, just look atcha." Mason sauntered into Fizztop, the doors closing behind him as his eyes locked to his partner where she laid in a heap on the floor, a pillow latched between her thighs as she blindly rutted into it, eyes fogged over with need. He couldn't be sure the Overboss even knew he was there. 

"You missin' your alpha that bad, hm?" 

He looked around a moment as his feet led him to their form, crumpled up on the floor and whimpering. A scent lingered, a mug on the side table near the couch caught his eye, and Mason took a deep breath in, his pupils instantly dilating at the sweet, enticing scent of boiled fever blossom. 

He sighed at her, even as he grinned.

Already, the Pack alpha felt a growing tightness beneath his thick pants. 

"Pup, what did I say ‘bout fever blossom tea when I ain't here?" His voice turned stern and Sole finally ceased her feverish movements, her glazed-over eyes rising to take in his form as it towered above her trembling body. "Gonna drive yourself mad." 

Sole scrambled to her feet, legs still shaking with unrestrained desire as she lunged for him, fingers pulling in vain at his belt, mouth pressing to his torso, teeth pulling frantically at the fabric of his shirt and the hem of his pants. 

"Hey now, easy." He said between breathy chuckles. 

God he could hardly stand it when she was like this. 

Needy and begging to have him, unsatisfied until he was in her, surrounding her fully, grinding and touching and pulling and biting until they were both fully sated. 

Heh, if there ever was such a thing as that. Not likely.

If she could stay this way forever, well, Mason might consider finally settling down, settling in with only her by his side. Even he couldn’t say no to a life like that. Like this. 

Wouldn’t ever get anything done, is all. Not that I’d be complaining though.

Mason licked his lips, dragging his fingers through her hair and subtly opening his legs where he stood. He allowed her heated and unfocused antics to continue a moment longer, reveling in the feel of her hot tongue as she pulled up at his shirt, licking and mouthing at every bit of flesh she could uncover, her hands petting heavily at the bulge that’d formed in the front of his pants. 

"I said easy." Mason’s hand jerked downward suddenly, fingers meeting the dog collar around her neck. The very one he thought she'd put up a fight about, but luckily enough, she'd been as eager for it as he was. 

Damn, I'm really starting to get used to this. Starting to like it. A whole damn lot.

And what the hell wasn't to like? The Overboss, kneeling at his feet, licking and begging like a dog for him to fill her, to ravish her like the rest of the raiders only dreamed they could. 

Yeah, life wasn't too bad. 

Could be even better though. He mused with a wicked grin. Better get started. 

His fingers gripped tight around the leather collar, tugging Sole back and down until she was seated on the floor at his feet. 

"I'll give ya what you need, pup." He pet her hair lightly with one hand, the other holding her firmly in place as her body trembled for him. "But I need ya to fuckin’ behave." 

He released the collar from his hand slowly, stepping back towards the sofa, his hands going to the hem of his wife-beater and pulling it over his head. Sole unconsciously scooted closer, her thirsty eyes drinking in his half-bare form, licking her lips in sheer anticipation. 

"Ah ah, stay." He held out one hand, while the other went to the button of his pants, and a high-pitched whine escaped Sole's throat. Mason's eyes crinkled as he let out a dry laugh. 

Damn if I don’t wanna ravish her just as much. 

He kicked away the heap of clothes from his ankles, still grinning down at her as he noticed the way that special place between her legs began to really glisten. 

Now fully bare, the pack alpha sat back on the sofa behind him, legs spread wide, as one hand stroked over his mustache. He regarded his pet with low brows, green-grey eyes locked to them like a predator on prey as they trembled on the floor awaiting his command. 

Sure as hell could get used to this. 

“A’right.” He whispered, “Have at it.” 

Sole lunged forward from where she knelt, crawling quickly to settle between his spread legs. To her credit, she paused one more time, her body hot and aching with need, but mind still undoubtedly knowing who was in charge. One hand on either of his thighs, Sole turned her blown-out eyes to meet his. 

“Atta girl.” Mason's painted hand stroked over her head, and her eyes rolled back at the sound of his growled praise. “You know the way I like it. Go on.” 

With that, the grip of his fingertips met the back of her head, aggressively encouraging her lips downwards to his pelvic bone. From there, his puppy didn’t need any more help. Mason couldn’t count the number of times she’d done this for him, but he couldn’t do much of anything when she was like this. And it didn't really matter, anyhow. Sole knew him, knew what he liked, and she was always willing to prove that to him. Over and over.

Who was he to stop her? She's the Overboss, after all. What she wants, she gets, she takes, without mercy, and right now? She wanted him. And Mason would never deny her that, at least, not for too long.

Oh, but it is fun to tease.

If they both hadn't been so desperate for all this, maybe he'd have indulged that urge, but as it were...

Sole's heated kisses were like lightning, littering his skin and leaving shudders of energy in their wake. His head fell back as she laid her tongue on him, luxuriously dragging the heat of it over his shaft until he was firm and aching with his own desperate need. 

As it were, he could hardly stand even this. It wasn't enough.

Still though, he let her play a moment, his hand guiding her up and down his cock as her tongue laved, and her lips pressed suckling kisses over him. 

She was holding back. Just as she knew he wanted her to. If he had wanted to face fuck her, she would’ve known from the moment he walked through the elevator doors. 

No, tonight, he knew what she needed. Hell, he needed it too, fever blossom or not, Mason wasn’t finishing anywhere but inside her. Staking his claim on his Overboss in the most primal way, filling her until she was bloated and leaking with him and only him. 

He felt his cock twitch just at the mere thought, and Mason pulled his hand from the back of her head. 

With a frustrated whine, Sole dragged her lips away, a string of drool connecting her to his swollen cock, still pulsing with need. Aggressively, he thrust his hand under her chin, tugging her face to his and capturing her lips in a dominating kiss. His tongue delved between their connection, claiming her mouth as his, more so than even his cock had, and only pulling away when he’d lapped up the taste of himself from her writhing tongue. His teeth met her lips, tugging until he heard her whine, and released her. 

“Bed.” He grunted, nodding his head to the back room, and Sole shot up to her feet. 

“Hey!” Mason rose from the couch just as quickly, glowering down at her as Sole’s eyes widened. “Who the fuck told you to stand, eh?” 

Immediately, her eyes fell to the floor, body obeying him before her mind could fully register the words, and in the next moment, he was grinning slyly as her naked form crawled on all fours to the bedroom. He followed slowly, leisurely, trying in vain to mask his own growing need for her. 

As if my stiff, dripping cock weren’t obvious enough.

He snorted at the thought.

Ain’t even had fever blossom, an’ I’m feeling like a mutt in heat.

Foolish pup better be ready for what she started.   

Sole was seated on the bed as Mason sauntered in, her wide eyes pleading and her thighs glistening with slick as her hands restlessly worked at the thin bed sheet below her. 

“The hell are you waitin’ for, pup?” He stood at the foot of the bed, near enough to touch, but not yet giving her the satisfaction of it. “You want me to fuck you like a bitch in heat, you’d better act like one. Submit.” 

He leaned over her as he said it, the wiry hairs on his chest ghosting over the tips of her breasts as he whispered in her ear. Goosebumps speckled over the skin of her neck, and Mason had to hold back the urge to run his tongue over them and nip at her until she was marked and squealing. 

There’d be time for that still, tonight. 

For now though, there were more urgent matters at hand. 

Almost instantly, his pet scrambled to obey him. She turned away on the bed on her hands and knees, spreading her legs as though there were a bar between them and collapsing onto her elbows to achieve that beautiful arch to her back. Mason brought a hand to his aching cock, pumping over it a few times as he climbed onto the bed behind her. 

“That’s a good girl.” A hand came down on her ass in a hard slap, and he heard Sole gasp, whether from pain or pleasure he didn’t know, but he could only hope it was some combination thereof. His hand slid down from her ass, rough fingers gliding down and between her soaked folds. 

Maybe there still is time for a bit of teasing...

He clicked his tongue as he lined up his cock with that shining, clenching hole. 

“Aw pup, you must be miserable.” Mason continued pumping his fist over his cock as he spoke, allowing just the tip to prod rhythmically at Sole’s entrance every few moments. 

“Please, Maso–” 

A swift slap to her cunt and she quickly corrected herself. 

“A-alpha. Master. Please. I need you.” 

“I know, puppy, I know. First though,” His hand found her clit, clever fingers working deftly around the outside of the little nub, coming so close before consciously avoiding it as he rubbed over her lower lips. “Tell me what we’ve learned.” 

He could see the way her muscles were flexing wildly. Trying to behave, trying not to squirm or complain, just the most muted of backwards thrusts to draw his fingers where she needed him. 

It was so adorable. 

“No fever blossom.” She managed through gritted teeth. 

Another slap.

A high noise escaped through her sealed lips before she could continue.

“W-without you. No more without you. Master. Alpha.” 

“Mmhm.” He nodded, “Very good.” He smiled as he noticed the way her snatch winked at him, clenching wantonly around nothing at the sound of his praise. 

He couldn’t wait anymore, even with as much fun as it was to tease her, Mason had his own limits.

“That was the right answer. You want your reward now, pup?” 

She nodded animatedly, her fingertips clenching at the bed sheet nestled between them. 

“Go on then.” He said lowly, pressing the head of his cock to her entrance with more insistence, prodding, but refusing to breach her fully until he heard the words. “Beg for your alpha.” 

“Please, alpha. Need you.” She didn’t hesitate to speak everything she knew he wanted to hear.

No regard for her own pride. Her own sense of authority. Only my needs. My pleasure.  

He grinned again at the sentiment. 

“Need your cock so bad, alpha. Please, fill me up. Claim me, make me yours." She still whined beneath him, and finally, Mason breached her entrance with the thick, leaking head of his cock, and swiftly pushed inside to the hilt. 

The alpha groaned with relief as he was surrounded by her slick heat, holding himself still within her for only half a moment before pulling out completely again. 

Sole let out another pleading whine, bordering on a sob as he left her empty and wanting once more. 

This oughta be so good.

He pressed back in again, this time swiftly starting a rough and rapid pace, pounding his hips hard into her ass until he heard her frantic gasps turn to deep moans of bliss. Her walls sucked him in, thirsty for everything he had to give, clenching each time that he bottomed out, pressing his broad tip to that soft, sensitive point deep within her. 

Mason’s rough hands moved from their place at her hips, sliding up her body until he could grasp at her soft, swinging breasts, and he felt her clench around him as he began to pinch and tug at her hardened, sensitive nipples. He leaned over her fully, feeling the heat of her back against his chest as he thrust in deep, grinding himself against every crevice of her velvety walls. He pressed his lips to her, his vibrant, auburn mustache tickling over the nape of her neck, blue war paint staining her skin as he laid feverish bites over her slick back. 

No one’ll ever question who she belongs to. Not the raiders, not the bosses, sure as hell not some useless fuckin’ wastelander. 

Nah, to all of ‘em, she’s mine. 

He bit down hard where her neck meets her shoulder, thrusting himself particularly deep into her, and Sole cried out as she felt him plow painfully into the wall of her cervix, at the very back of her. 

Mason gritted his teeth at the way her cunt squeezed him in a choking hold, reveling at the high-pitched yelp he forced from her with his aggressive thrust. 

Ohh, just once more for me, pup. 

He thrusted deep again, his jaw clenching harder as Sole flinched away from the uncomfortable feeling of him pressing hard into her deepest part as though he meant to breach it. 

“Atta girl.” He whispered, hauling his hips back and angling to grind at her g-spot as he thrust in once more. A shuddering groan was all that she could manage as he leaned down to lick over the marks he’d left on her skin. 

Sole’s noises were becoming broken, her hips thrusting back to meet each pulse into her, her walls clenching suffocatingly against his thick length each time he bottomed out. 

“Ah ah, pup. Not yet.” Mason panted as he pulled back, his own need causing a stifling heat to pool deep in his belly. “I ain’t given you permission, so I’m gonna need you t’ hold off. Got it?” 

“Mmhm.” He heard her voice shake as she hummed to him, and he felt her try to take a calming breath. 

“Good.” He bent to kiss her shoulder. “Now you hold back until I say so.” 

With that, Mason rose up, hands grasping hard at her hips, fingers clenching tight enough to leave bruises, and pulled out until all that was left in her was his tip. Then he thrusted into her again, bottoming out. He pounded into her with long, hard strokes, moving faster and faster with each shove into her, his gripping hands forcing her back against him each time he pressed deep inside. 

Mason was wild, truly channeling the spirit of a beast in heat as he claimed his mate, his pet, as she trembled beneath him, biting her lips with the effort of holding back her climax with this new, aggressive, brutal pace. The bed knocked hard against the wall with each powerful thrust, driving him and his partner ever closer to that precipice of release, and he soon decided it was time. 

She’s been good for me tonight, and I can’t hold off much longer myself.

“Now, pup.” He growled out, “Do it.” 

His hands never released her hips, and his thrusting never ceased, as Sole’s body tensed beneath him, shaking with explosive release as her juices gushed over his cock and her walls sucked him tighter than a goddamn vice. Mason grunted with the effort of holding himself back, of pushing through her suffocating pressure as he felt her cunt pleading to milk him dry. 

Fuck it. Who am I to deny her?

He bit hard into his lip as he felt her body finally begin to relax beneath him, exhaustion finally taking over her limbs as her arms gave out and she collapsed onto the mattress below. 

No one could ever deny it. I do this, I finish deep inside, I fill her up, an’ she’s mine. None could dispute that shit. 

His hands released her hips as she laid flat against the bed, opting to cage her in from either side as he thrust hard into her twice more before bottoming out, and unloading his heavy release inside her, as deep as it could go. 

All mine. Mine, mine. Mine!

His mind chanted the words over and over as his cock pulsed within her still-tight walls. A series of grunts and pants left him as his hips continued to thrust instinctually, tiny pulsing movements with each consecutive gush of his cum deep inside her. Sole clenched again as the feel of his heat spread within her, her body soaking up the last of his spend even as she lay half-unconscious beneath him. 

One final, definitive spurt left him as Mason collapsed on top of her. He heard the air leave his partner’s body as his weight pressed her into the mattress, and he opted to wrap his arms about her, and roll both of them onto their sides, still refusing to pull his softening cock from the comfort of her warmth. 

Sole sighed, the last of the fever blossom leaving her as her body finally got what it had been craving, needing, for hours. 

“Sorry about the tea.” He heard her say quietly, her voice raw and breathy. 

“No need for it, baby.” His arms tightened around her chest and stomach, and Mason pressed a tender kiss to the side of her head. “I wasn’t really mad.”

“I know.” She giggled at that, “I know how you like when I get like that.” 

“Fuck, what’s not to love? Gettin’ ta fuck you like that… makes my whole damn week.” 

Makes my whole damn life.

Her hands wrapped around herself, her fingertips following his movement and rubbing over the back of his hand as he drew patterns over her full stomach. 

“Me too.” 

Sole moved her hips a bit as she settled into the mattress, the motion shifting his cock inside her, and causing them both to gasp. She felt his member give an enthusiastic jerk within her. 

“So... You gonna pull out anytime soon?” Sole asked cheekily, her voice tired, but still playful.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Mason's hands continued their slow movement over her skin, still clammy with sweat from their heated romp, but he couldn't care less. “In fact, think I might just have s’more to give ya.” 

“I can see that.” She chuckled at him, half exasperation, and half anticipation, as her hips began to grind back against him. “Well, alpha… don’t hold back.” 

Mason scoffed at that. 

“Never.” He growled, and rolled himself on top of her once more. 

[bellysoupset]

And another because I'm greedy! How about Bella getting sick in the night before Lucas has a big game, and feeling super guilty for keeping him up? Bonus points for forehead kisses 😍

Oh I struggled with this one, nothing was quite hitting... I hope it turned out okay though. Thank you for the prompt!

Her head felt fuzzy. Bell tried not to think too much of it, but it was making it impossible for her to focus on her classes. She let out a sight and rested her forehead to her arm, letting her mind drift off.

Eventually there was a poke on her arm and she looked up in time to see her best friend grab her bag the strap over her shoulder, "Bells," Tonya rolled her eyes, "You're clearly not feeling well, why did you even bother to come?"

Because... Because class...

Bell tried to voice as much, only for her friend to scoff, "well go home. Are you staying at Lucas' today?"

She was, he had a big game tomorrow and she knew he always a little jittery the night before and needed the company. Besides, she loved cuddling with him.

"Uhm, yeah," she answered, rubbing her face and grimacing when the world twirled around her, "maybe I shouldn't, I don't want to get him sick."

Tonya pouted, "but then you'll be all alone in the dorms, Bells... I'm not gonna be home today, remember?" she worked at her bottom lip, "I don't like the idea of you all alone, I think you have a fever."

"I don't," Bell groaned, trying to feel her own forehead. This was bad, she'd hate for Lucas to see her as much, he'd kick up a fuss and-

Tonya planted a hand on her forehead, in that mother henning way she did, no regards for personal space and then let out a sigh in relief, "A little feverish. Take a tylenol and you should be fine."

She didn't feel particularly fine, but this was a relief. It meant she could just take the tylenol and by the time she met Lucas for dinner, she'd feel great and he would be none the wiser.

True to her plan and feeling reassured by Tonya, Bell took the medication she was given and then went to the campus' bathroom, washing her face thoroughly with the cold water. She splashed some of it on the back of her neck and it felt amazing against the cold skin.

She felt a little off still, but the feeling faded as she walked over to the parking lot and then completely disappeared as she took in Lucas leaning on the hood of his car, waiting for her. He was a vision to behold and Bell smirked to herself, feeling a little smug he was all hers.

"What are you smiling at, Bella?" Lucas chuckled, tugging on the belt loops of her jeans and pulling her closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck, opened a huge smile.

"Nothing," Bell said, tip toeing to kiss him, "love you in sunglasses, you look like you're posing for a photoshoot."

"Maybe I was," he smiled, kissing her back and bumping his nose with hers, "Let's go? I'm starved."

So was she, which was not surprising. She had felt mildly queasy during the morning and hadn't eaten anything until now, it was no wonder she felt shaky.

Lucas was the perfect gentleman: He pulled the chair for her, he let her do the honors of picking first and then bickered with her over food, chatted about the upcoming game and completely ignored the look the maitre sent them as he moved his chair from across the table so he could be right next to her and make out as they waited for dessert.

It was very difficult not to love him and Bell didn't bother fighting against it, she just felt smug she had somehow landed this guy. She yawned, resting her head to his shoulder as he ate the rest of her petit gateau as she had vaguely pushed it towards him after two spoonfuls made her feel full.

"Tired, honey?" He asked, kissing the top of her head. Bell nodded, pressing a kiss to his bicep.

"I'm sorry... Just a little sleepy, ate too much."

"Don't apologize," she could almost hear him eye rolling, "It's okay-"

"I know you were looking forward a less PG night-" She stifled a yawn, suddenly hardly able to keep her eyes open. Lucas' chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pulled her closer and gestured for their bill.

"We can always do it later... Or in the morning... Or after the game...," he nibbled at her ear, while Bell giggled.

"Yeah, I got it."

"Point is, we got nothing but time, relax," He kissed her cheek, then busied himself with the check.

By the time his car pulled up in building's parking lot, she was practically boneless. Bell's head felt heavy and she sighed gratefully as he pulled the car to a stop, because the driving around was starting to make her feel carsick.

Lucas frowned as he unbuckled his seat belt and reached in, pushing the hair away from her face, "you alright there, baby? Looking a little pasty."

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little dizzy." Bell groaned, pushing the door open.

He winced, "sorry-"

"Not your fault," she yawned, stepping out of the car, "ate too much."

He rolled his eyes, "oh yeah, too much," he scoffed, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his voice.

"Not all of us are bottomless pits, boy" Bell scoffed, rubbing her stomach lightly as she followed him to the elevator. She buried her face on his chest as the doors closed, sighing, "you're so cuddly."

"And you're sweet when you're sleepy," he grinned, kissing the top of her head.

She was sluggishly moving around as they got ready to turn in and Bell all but draped herself over Lucas once he got into the bed too. He planted a hand on her back, petting her hair while getting a book, so the television noise wouldn't keep her up. He was an avid consumer of cheap thrillers.

"We match," He said softly, amused, just as she was starting to drift off. There was an ache in her belly, but this one she knew was just from being full of rich food. It was lulling her to sleep.

"Uhm?"

"We match," he said again, "your tummy is letting out these little gurgles, so is mine."

"Gross," Bell wrinkled her nose, letting her eyes slip closed. He scoffed.

"I think it's kinda cute."

"Even worse now," she teased him, yawning again. He didn't answer and she was asleep in no time.

She woke up several hours later, feeling like her skin was on fire. She sat up slowly, careful not to wake up Lucas, who had fallen asleep with the book half closed over his face and snoring softly.

Bella tried not to groan as she straightened up the feeling of motion sickness came back. Her stomach was still hurting and aching, her head felt weird... Even her eyes felt dry and like blinking was an effort.

She climbed out of the bed, putting his book carefully on the bedside table and then slipped out of the suite, walking towards the kitchen. Tea would help, she thought sleepily, moving around the kitchen in the dark.

It was hard to navigate, but she felt tired and achey all over and the idea of walking across the kitchen again to turn on the light... Nope.

She planted the kettle filled with water over the oven and then stumbled back against the kitchen island. Her legs felt weak and her mouth overly sweet and Bell groaned, wrapping an arm around her stomach and pressing on it gently, trying to help with the queasy crampy sensation...

She managed to let out a wet belch and it made acid splash on the back of her throat. She gagged softly, squeezing her eyes shut and breathing through the nausea. Her body was covered in cold sweat and as soon as she was half sure she wasn't going to throw up, she collapsed down, sitting on the floor and leaning her head back against the island.

Her head pounded and the tummy ache had gone from "annoying" to full blown sick. She kept letting out these tiny, wet burps that made nothing to relieve the sensation, only brought her an inch closer to throwing up. The room felt like it was a rocking boat and it definitely wasn't helping-

The lights turned on and she winced, letting out a gasp at the sudden brightness.

"Bell?" Lucas called, his voice sounding alarmed, "Bella, where-" she heard his socks on the floor and then he circled the kitchen island and frowned, "honey, what are you doing on the ground?"

"Comfy," she bit out sarcastically, or at least she intended for it to be sarcastic, but what came out was a pathetic whimper. He crouched down, a wrinkle of concern appearing between his dark brows.

"You're clearly not feeling well, what are you doing here of all places? Why didn't you wake me up?" he asked, pushing the hair away from her face and Bella shook her head, trying to explain and failing.

"I-... Luke..." her stomach gurgled, burned her throat and the kettle started whistling. Everything felt like too much, "I don't feel well..." she whined.

He pouted, cupping her cheek, only to pull his hand back, "Goddammit, you're on fire, Bells..." Lucas groaned, hands coming to frantically cup her face. She leaned into his touch, sniffling as the emotions started to get the best out of her.

"Lu..." her stomach grumbled unhappily and she gagged again, at her lap. Lucas let out a noise she couldn't quite pinpoint - maybe a frustrated huff or a surprised gasp - but then his hands were on her armpits and he was pulling her up like a broken doll.

"Your stomach's feeling gross, uh?" he said in a gentle manner, holding her over the kitchen sink and pulling her hair back with one hand. Her stomach pressed on the dark marble edge and a gurgle went up her throat, causing Bella to gag again. She spat in the sink.

"Everything feels gross..." she whined, trying to brace herself as the world continued to twirl. Her hand reached out blindly, planted on the window over the sink and Lucas rubbed her back, letting out an unhappy huff.

"Have you been sick all day, baby?"

She shook her head no, then groaned as she felt dinner crawl up her throat, "gon' be sick..."

"It's okay, it'll be over soon," he whispered, rubbing her back, "I got you, honey."

Good, because the minute she leaned over again and started throwing up - puke burning at her nose, strong heaves that hurt her ribs and made her head pound - her legs all but gave up on her.

She felt Lucas' hand cupping her forehead, instead of rubbing her head, keeping her over the sink and Bella was incredibly glad for him, because she was starting to feel so dizzy she didn't know each way was up.

She coughed, struggled for air and then finally breathed out. Her stomach felt worse than before, everything was completely out of axis and there was a ringing in her ears.

"...Bell? Bella?" Lucas was saying, shaking her lightly and she blinked up at him, turning her head so she could look him in the face. His green eyes were the size of saucers and he was pale, albeit for an entirely different reason, "Bella, hey, answer me."

"What...?"

"Your fever is really high, baby," he sounded relieved she had at least managed to speak with him. He reached out without looking, turned on the water register to wash away the mess, "I think you need a cool shower."

"Noo..." She tried to shake her head, because the idea of walking all the way to his bathroom sounded like pure hell, "Lucas, 'm dizzy." she tried to explain, but he was having none of it.

"I know, Bells, that's because you're burning up," he scoffed, but there was only worry in his voice, "Can you walk?"

Hell no. Her fingers on the counter were white with how hard she was grabbing it, "I... I'm sick."

"I know, honey," he sighed, taking one of her hands, wrapping her arm around his neck and then crouching down so his other arm could wrap around her knees. He lifted her up so easily- Causing the world to all but catapult.

Bell groaned with the sudden vertigo, her stomach flip flopped and she grabbed the collar of his pajamas' shirt, "Lucas-"

"We're almost there-"

"No, Lucas-" it was too late. Her stomach clenched and she was too weak to fight it. She coughed up a splash of vomit on his shirt, over her own chest and it sent a wave of repulse through her, making Bell gag again, bringing up another gush of puke. She whimpered, looked down at the mess then squeezed her eyes shut again when the whole hallway seemed to be spinning.

"'m sosorry-"

He was speaking something, but she couldn't hear him at all over the ringing in her ears.

Then she felt lukewarm water hit her face and Bella was forced to open her eyes again. He had entered the shower with her, fully dressed too.

His jaw was clenched, tense, and he washed the vomit between them, big hands coming to cup her face, thumbs brushing the puke from her lips and her chin, "baby?"

Fuck. She choked up, suddenly so moved he had gone through all this trouble, "I'm sorry."

"Nonsense," Lucas scoffed, gently putting her down on the ground, but one arm still kept around her, keeping her up, "how long have you been sick, Bell?"

"Please don't be mad..." she cried and he shook his head, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He looked pissed.

"I'm not angry."

"I'm sorry-"

"Bell," he ran her head under the shower, keeping the water away from her face, "honey, I need you to talk with me. I'm not angry, I just need to know-"

"Since class," she hiccuped, her stomach threatening to boil over again, "didn'twan' to ruin your game-"

His mouth pressed in a thin line, "fuck, Bell, are you crazy?"

"Why...?" she asked, letting her head hang as the queasiness came back with revenge, "oh god..."

"Yeah, exactly," Lucas scoffed, holding her and the hair away from her face, "Damn, Bella, how didn't I notice- HEY! Hey, Bella, Bell- Bell, c'mon-" his voice turned into a string of panic as she started seeing black spots dance in front of her eyes. It felt like she was underwater.

The little black dots started coming together to form a huge black spot and then everything went dark.

She woke up in the bed in his room. Thirsty and dizzy, but feeling better than before. Her head lolled to the side and she found Lucas sitting right next to her on the bed, looking like he hadn't slept a blink despite the window showing that the sky was turning blue and the sun had just risen.

"Luke...?"

"Ah thank fucking God," he whispered, shoulders dropping, voice breaking. He took a shuddering breath and Bella noticed his eyes were rimmed red, the tip of his nose was red too. He had been crying.

"Lucas? What's- What's wrong?" she pushed herself up in the bed, "Lu-"

"Don't," he said strongly, rubbing a hand over his eyes angrily and she could tell he was trying really hard not to snap at her or cry. Both options made her chest hurt.

"Lucas, I'm s-"

"Your fucking blood pressure hit the ground," he scoffed, "I called 911, they had me- Had me getting your feet up, was a whole deal..." his words broke at the end and he looked away from her, out of the window, "you scared the shit out of me, Isabella."

"I'm sor-"

"Yeah!" He finally snapped, glaring at her, "you should be! You had a brain boiling fever and you wouldn't stop throwing up and then you got so fucking white and-and-" he sucked in a breath and his shoulders shook, "never do that again."

"I don't think I can control when I get sic-" she tried weakly to ease the mood, only to receive a scowl.

"You know what I mean," his voice wasn't friendly for once. He was clearly shaken, angry and scared. Bella gulped down.

"I won't," she promised, "what about your game...?"

"Goddamit, fuck the game, Bell," Lucas scoffed, "who cares?!"

"I care! You care!" She struggled to sit up, "Your life is tha-"

"No," he shook his head, glaring at her, "No. No, that's not my life and you know it...", the you are, hung in the air. They weren't quite there yet for such a huge confession, but it was painfully clear for them both. Bella sighed, curling up on her side.

"I love you too," she opted for saying, instead of pressing the issue. He let out a sigh of relief.

"Yeah, I love you too, girl," Lucas groaned, falling on the bed next to her, "you're going to be my death."

"Don't say that," she scoffed, burying her face in his naked chest, "sleep a little, I'll be fine. Stop worrying."

"I don't know how to do that," he retorted, wrapping his arm around her and pressing his lips to her forehead. She was still feverish, but now it only served to make her twice as cuddly.

"Figure it out, boy," Bell whispered, wrapping herself on him like an octopus and he snorted, burying his face in her hair.

[bitchesgetriches]

hellooooo my friends. asking for some PTO advice here. I am a healthy individual working at an agency with what are considered good benefits. this year, I got COVID (mildly) and took off a few days sick, and I had a few dentist appointments I needed to attend. I got normal-sick a couple weeks ago, and I took off a decent amount of time because i was feverish and needed to rest. But I worked on-and-off while i was recovering, so didn't take full sick days off except for one or two days, I just used some hours to "patch" the day when I was too ill/tired to work. SO..... i just went to enter my hours for this week..... and i have 1.75 hours of sick leave left for the entire year of 2022, BEFORE subtracting the sick time from this week (which will put me in the negatives). IT'S AUGUST! we are encouraged to use our "Health and Wellness PTO" for illness, dentist/eye/doctor/anything appointments, therapy and mindful/mental health breaks, covid vaccinations, taking care of loved ones, taking care of pet health needs, etc.... but we have 10 days for all of that over a 365 day year. how is it possible for a person to be human and not go over that sick time limit? what do you recommend that i do in this situation? last year i went over my sick time by a few days because I was using some for a recurring therapy appointment... I asked my manager about it, and my manager asked HR about it, and HR said I had to give up vacation days to pay for it (but they generously took one day off of my "debt"). So I was working until the day before Christmas Eve. After that, I learned to work an hour late on therapy days instead of using any of my "Wellness Time" to attend mental health appointments.... but now I've gone over my wellness time without any recurring appointments, just from being sick.

If no one brought HR's attention to this, I don't think it would be an issue - I think the year would pass with no discipline. But my manager can be micro-manage-y, and last week when I was sick he told me I should check my PTO to make sure that I'm not going over. I'm worried that he's going to essentially narc on me in the interest of "doing things right", even if HR wouldn't normally bring it to anyone's attention or get me "in trouble" for it, just because I made the mistake of asking him about it last year and put it on his radar. heelllppppp i hate this situation and i don't even know how to do my time entry for this week 😭😭😭 thank you very much for your time and advice <3

File this one under "reasons why unlimited PTO is the only humane way to run a business," kiddo.

This really sucks. It's fucking dire. But it's not the end of the world. First, I recommend you get ahead of your micromanaging manager on this. Go to him FIRST to explain your situation. It'll look way better for you at HR if he doesn't "narc" on you.

Next, let's get creative. It sounds like working an extra hour outside normal work hours has been an option in the past. So bring that to your manager and HR as a solution! You can't help getting sick, and in these times of A LITERAL PLAGUE, they should be thanking you for not coming in while sick. So frame it like that and the least they can do is let you make up the time you missed so you're not cutting into your PTO.

Next... update that resume and keep looking for a new job, sweet pea. There's always somewhere better. Find that place without a narc of a boss and a rigid HR department.

Should You Trust Your Human Resources Department? 

Workplace Benefits and Other Cool Side Effects of Employment 

[boreal-sea]

So I have COVID. I wanted to document what that's been like to make people aware that you might be fully symptomatic and not test positive until day three of COVID.

If you're sick with what feels like a cold, stay home.

Day 1: Friday - A slightly scratchy throat. I always describe it like it feels like there's sand in the back of my throat. Minor cough because it tickled. Knew there was a good chance it was COVID because my roommate had it.

Day 2: Saturday - Overnight the scratchy throat became a sore throat, but overall I still felt fine. Tested negative for COVID. Took ibuprofen for the throat. Had an occasional cough that was extremely painful, but that eased up as the day went on.

Felt a-okay until around 4-ish, when I suddenly became very cold. Buried myself under blankets but was still shaking. Fell asleep and woke up an hour or two later feeling like hot garbage: very dizzy, still terribly cold. No fever according to the thermometer, but certainly felt feverish. Took another ibuprofen and a hot bath and finally warmed up. Went to bed and slept on and off all night.

Day 3: Sunday - Overnight the symptoms eased up a bit, although the congestion rolled in. Woke up bright and early feeling better in general. No longer quite as dizzy. Still hot/cold, but no fever. Tested positive for COVID. Mildly congested but can still breathe through nose and pop my ears. Gonna be taking it easy.

Overall I think I've been very lucky. I didn't get any body aches like I did from the vaccines, thank god. I'm triple vaxxed, my roomie was quadruple vaxxed, and we still got it from someone (we don't know who) who didn't bother wearing a mask and was probably coughing all over the place.