#well not sick as is COVID or anything no worries

[jeezypetes]

Ahhhh the job I thought i didn’t get bc they never got back to me after my interview (which I thought went really well) just reached out to me bc apparently the person they tried to hire backed out.,.. and now its gonna be like another month of wondering if I’m gonna have to decide if I want to move to another state where I don’t know anyone. And i was kind of relieved when i never heard back bc I’m really happy here with my family and gf and friends but the fact is my job here is a contract with very slim hopes of developing into a real job with benefits and i live with my parents bc i love them and our house and our town but i know i have to seriously consider this opportunity bc it would be a good career move and i want to live a rich and interesting life. But I don’t want to talk about it with anyone irl because my dad has covid which has been my number 1 fear since the start of the pandemic (he’s 71 and immunocompromised but he’s doing well and not needed the hospital) and I just want to be able to only worry about that I can’t even talk about the job thing which i drove myself and everyone around me crazy with already back in October. Which is why I’m just posting it vjfdhk I’m being tormented by forces beyond my control i feel like this is the sort of thing it would be really helpful to believe in God about

[jackalhadrurusluvr]

i have a sneaking suspicion i may be getting sick

[infiniteglitterfall]

know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!

hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.

I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.

It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.

Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.

It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.

(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."

Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.

Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.

People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.

(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.

I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.

She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.

And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.

He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.

He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.

I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.

But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.

It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.

(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)

(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.

We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.

People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.

Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.

3,000,000.

Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.

Five times as many.

That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:

Here's a non-paywalled link to it:

https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates

Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:

Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.

You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.

They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)

[hqmillioncorn]

Lalapril 4/5: Shatter

Babycorn clinked the spoon around the empty bowl of soup. She would be lying if she said it wasn’t delicious, Tilika’s cooking always was. And as much as she enjoyed it, Babycorn also enjoyed being up and about more than staying cooped up in one place. 

Staging an escape and using some aether to travel didn’t sound too hard.

Tilika slowly rounded her way around a corner, keeping her eye out for disobedient younger cousins with a pom on her head and cornmeal for brains. 

Her slow pace was a stark contrast to the rest of her teammates all making a sprint towards the middle of the battlefield.

“Go mid! Go Mid!” A Dark Knight zipped right past her yelling as loud as he possibly could. The steps of everyone running ahead drowned out any sounds besides that.

Tilika was glad that everyone seemed to be in their own little worlds. Even if anyone on her team should be upset she was moving at a snail’s pace compared to them she was sure a quick explanation of her situation would be enough for them to understand why.

Something along the lines of “My younger cousin woke up with a high fever this morning then the second I turned around she and most of her weapons were gone.” would probably be good enough of an explanation.

On Tilika’s next step, her foot sank into the snow. Between here and Garlemald she was getting real sick of snow real fast. The cold weather was also not going to do any favors for Babycorn’s health.

Tilika didn’t know whether she was going to kill Babycorn once she saw or hug her.

She gripped her sword and shield in her hand. It was probably pure dumb luck that Babycorn had forgotten her Paladin stone at home. But Tilika suspected there must have been more to it, from the way it was glowing and leading her out the door and all the way here.

She had heard Babycorn talk about “Frontlines” before but from what Tilika heard about it, it sounded like the absolute most miserable experience in all of Eorzea.

“Then why do you keep going back?”

“Because it's fun!!” Babycorn had said with a smile.

Tilika could only guess why Babycorn would sneak out here of all places while she was sick.

Maybe she was just running on autopilot? Who knew really?

As Tilika continued walking the exact opposite way of her team she noticed that a few members of the opposing team were getting closer. Then before she could wonder why they were heading the same way as her, Tilika noticed a bright light coming behind her.

Turning around she was met with a chunk of glowing ice staring her right in the face.

“Then there’s this one we play where we all attack a big ice!! Sometimes I lick the ice when no ones looking but you can’t tell anyone about that Tilika!”

…One of these days Tilika would really have to sit Babycorn down and explain to her what really can and can’t be eaten.

But she could deal with that tomorrow or some other day. Right now she had to focus on not getting ambushed by three other people.

“E-Excuse me?” Tilika raised her hand with her shield and tried to be as loud as she could.

To her surprise (and relief) the opposing team’s members seemed to not even notice her presence and went straight to beating the tar out of the ice behind her instead. From what Tilika had heard Babycorn explain, destroying ice was usually the objective in this game. It was only a matter of time until they turned to attack her instead. She was on a time limit.

“Excuse me?” Tilika paused in the middle of her question to block an incoming arrow with her shield. “I said-Excuse me!! Have any of you seen a little lalafell around here?”

A miqo'te member of the Immortal Flames team paused her attack on the ice mid axe swing to sheepishly point at a lalafell member of the Order of the Twin Adders. The lalafell also pointed at himself, wondering if this had anything to do with the battle high five bounty over his head.

“Oh! Oh no, no, no sorry! I’m not looking for you!”

Tilika put her sword down and gestured her hand down to the spot near her leg she knew Babycorn reached. “She’s short, just turned twenty-five again, short blond hair. Have any of you seen her around?” It was times like these Tilika considered carrying around a drawing of Babycorn and Cherrypit.

Suddenly the miqo'te spoke up, resting her ax on the ice. “Actually now that I think about it. I think I saw someone like that back in the base!”

Tilika lit up, “Really?!”

“Yeah!” she continued, “She was wearing a really long skirt and a shirt that reminded me of a famous inspector…?”

“That sounds exactly like her!” It was a good thing that Tilika had packed an extra set of warmer clothes with her that were exactly Babycorn sized.

At this point the rivaling team’s lalafell also chose to speak up. “Oh yeah! I’ve seen her around! She tried to limit break a group of us earlier! For some reason she missed all of us?” Which was strange because a dancer almost never missed.

Tilika sighed, “It’s probably because she’s horribly ill…That’s why I’m here, to pick her up before she gets any worse!” Back at the Wolves’ Den she had left behind all sorts of medicines and blankets just in case Babycorn needed them.

“Oh, man. She shouldn’t be out in this weather then.” the lalafell interjected.

“If only she knew that…”

The miqo'te picked up her axe and gestured back towards the direction she came from. “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll take you back to base to check if she's there!”

“Oh! That would be wonderful! Thank you!”

“Don’t thank me yet. We might make it there but considering you’re a paladin and we’re heading straight into the base…Well…”

Tilika blinked, “Ah? What’s wrong with me being a paladin?”

Both the lalafell and miqo'te exchanged glances.  

“Just don’t be too surprised if another arrow flies into your shield!”

                                             ----------------

Babycorn let out a loud sneeze. Almost everyone in the Wolves’ Den stopped for a second to make sure that wasn’t actually the sound of a cannon misfiring.

Tilika took out another blanket and wrapped it around Babycorn. “See? This is what happens when you’re sick and you go out and fight in the cold.” She placed the warm beanie she knitted for Babycorn on top of her sickly head.

“I don’t get it. I should be all better by now.” Babycorn sniffled, she looked up at Tilika with the saddest looking eyes imaginable. Almost like she was asking Tilika why she was still feeling sick. Tilika figured the answer was pretty obvious.

“Sorry to say but you’re still sick because you went and overexerted yourself while being sick. The cold weather probably didn’t help either.”

“Whaaaat?” Babycorn looked shocked. “What I did always worked! Every time I was sick I jumped into a big river or lake and always felt better after! I don’t know why it didn’t work this time…”

Now it was Tilika’s turn to be shocked.

“You. Did. What?”

“You know! I j-jumped into a river! Just l-like I always did!”

Tilika didn’t even know where to begin.

Except with bundling Babycorn up and taking her home.

[strnilolover]

.✦ ── All To Ourselves ── ✦.

♡ Bf!Matt x Gf!Reader

⚠︎ Warnings : smut - oral (m receiving), pet names (baby, love, babe, ma), sick matt, slight sub!matt honestly, fluff, aftercare?

♡ Wc : 1.5k

♡ A/N : This is based off of their new vlog where they all spent time away from each other. Where Matt is home alone and is sick (the part where he’s on the couch in nothing but his boxers) so you decide to go over and help him (in more ways than one).

You were currently on your way to your boyfriend’s house from the grocery store. Once he had texted you that he was sick and not feeling well, your nurturing instincts kicked in. Wanting to help take care of him.

Pulling into the driveway with a sigh, you put the car into park, turning off the ignition. You reached behind the passenger seat, grabbing the grocery bags full of different food items to make chicken soup, potato soup, etc. anything that could make him feel better and make sure he was getting actual food.

You climbed out of the driver door, lugging the bags out with you as you closed the door swiftly. You walked up to their garage, setting down the bags momentarily as you punched in the code to open it, picking your bags up once more.

Once you were inside the house, making your way up the stairs, you hear Matt on the couch presumably talking to the camera to document how he is with his brothers being gone. You reached the top of the stairs, watching him quietly as your eyes scanned his body. His shirt off, black boxers on display for anyone to see if they came in.

You chuckled once he set the camera down, your feet now moving you toward their kitchen to set the bags down onto the counter. His eyes were focused on you and the way you moved, your body turning to face him as you walked closer.

“Hi baby.” You whispered softly, sitting next to him on the couch as your arms engulfed him in a hug. He hummed contently, wrapping his own arms around you in return. “Hello love.” He mumbled against your chest.

You smiled softly, bringing a hand up to his head to gauge how warm he was. You hissed softly, “you’re burning up babe, why didn’t you tell me sooner when this first started?” You asked, taking his face into your hands to look at you, a disappointed frown pulling at your lips.

He shrugged his shoulders, blue eyes locked onto your own. “Didn’t want you to worry too much, I’m sure it’ll pass soon. Luckily it isn’t covid.” He sighed out, turning his face to peck the palm of your hand softly.

You just shook your head, caressing his face as he continued to litter kisses along your palm. He becomes such a baby when he’s sick, sucking up to you and just wanting to be babied. Even if he’s too stubborn to admit it himself. “Well I’m here to take care of you now, so no more doing things for yourself, m’kay?” You said sternly but soft, making him look back at you so he understood.

He nodded firmly, “yes ma’am.” He chuckled out, bringing a hand up to his forehead, saluting. You just rolled your eyes, laughing at him. “You’re such a goofball, but I love you.” You said, pulling him close to you once more.

He smiled, head burying in your chest as he coughed. You frowned once more, stroking his sweaty hair as you continued to hold him close to you.

After sitting for a few minutes with his head buried in your chest, your hand stroking his hair, he shifted. Lifting his head up to look at you, his face was flushed red, pupils dilated.

“Baby?” You questioned, looking into his eyes as you felt his hips shift against you now. Eyes widening slightly, you looked down. Now noticing the prominent bulge growing in his boxers. You looked back up, his eyes still trained on your face.

“M’sorry, can’t help it. You just look so fucking good.” He mumbled, leaning away from you to rest his head on the back of the couch, readjusting his erection in his boxers.

You sat there dumbfounded for a moment, before you smirked and slid off the couch, kneeling in front of him. “You know — I could help you with your problem if you’d like?” You say to him, your hand inching up his thigh to grab him through his boxers.

His head tipped forward, catching your burning gaze and he nodded. “Please,” he whispered, hips pushing up into your palm. “Need it s’bad.”

You chuckled, your hand grabbing the waist band. “Lift your hips for me baby.” You say, beginning to tug his boxers off his hips. He obliged, lifting his hips slightly as you tugged them down, his cock springing free. He let out a soft sigh.

You pulled them down to his mid-thighs, shuffling onto your knees higher as your hand reached out to grab him once more. Your hand was small, fitting around his cock as you gave a few experimental tugs. He whined softly, head thrown back once more as his mouth hung open.

You looked up at him through your lashes, smirking. Tugging a few more times, you lean your head forward giving his tip a small lick before lowering your head down, taking him into your warm mouth.

“Ah — fuck.” He hissed through his teeth, hand coming up to grab your hair into a ponytail. You hummed softly, bobbing your head up and down slowly as your hand fit around what you couldn’t take in your mouth.

“F-feels s’good.” He moaned, pushing your head down more. You hummed around him once more, pulling off with a ‘pop’ as your hand pumped him. “C’mon baby, no one is here to hear you — you can be as loud as you want.” You say, lowering back down once more.

Once taking him back into your mouth, bobbing your head faster, he didn’t hesitate to let the moans and small whines slip past his lips. You groaned as he pushed your head down more, starting to fuck your throat slowly. “B-baby please.. lemme’ — oh fuck.” He whined as your head moved faster, before pulling away once more.

Now it just felt like torture, speeding up just to pull away from him. You looked into his hooded eyes, slightly glossy. “You can fuck my throat baby — this is for you to feel better. Use me.” Is all you said before going back down. He groaned, nodding his head quickly as he thrusted his hips up into your awaiting mouth, moving your head to match his thrusts.

You moaned around his cock, eyes rolling back just as his did. Strings of curses left his lips as his thrusts started to become more erratic, more sloppy. You were drooling around him at this point, your spit running down your chin and onto him. He moaned at the sight of you, mouth stuffed full of him, willing to let him use you just to make himself feel better.

“God ma — g-gonna cum.. can I cum? Please?” He whimpered, breathing becoming hard as you moaned, nodding your head to give him permission. That’s all he needed before his cock swelled in your mouth, releasing his cum down your throat. A string of whines leaving his parted lips as you groaned at the taste of him.

Bobbing your head a few more times, you pulled off with another wet ‘pop’ smiling up at him as your hand tugged him a few more times, working him through his high. He hissed softly, pushing your hand away when he had enough.

He panted softly, looking down at you with tired eyes as he regained his composure. You just smiled up at him, climbing up onto the couch next to him once more as you pressed kisses all along his body on your way up, the last one landing on his lips. “You feeling okay baby? Wasn’t too much yeah?” You asked softly, hands reaching down to pull his boxers back up as you continued to press kisses to his temple.

He nodded softly, “m’okay.. was so fucking good.” He admitted, smiling at you, happily accepting the kisses you planted across his face. You nodded, pulling away as you looked at him. “I’m glad you’re okay, let me take care of you now.” You say, grabbing the blanket off the couch behind you and draping it over him as you stood up.

You grabbed the tv remote and turned on gravity falls, knowing it was one of his favorite show. You put it down, leaning back down to him. “Are you sure you’re okay baby? Wasn’t too much on you?” You asked one more time, pulling him into a small hug. He nodded, “I’m okay, wasn’t too much at all. I’m hungry now though.” He stated, and you smiled once more as you pulled away, grabbing the water bottle from the table to hand to him.

“Would you like potato soup or chicken soup?” You asked as you walked to the kitchen, reaching into the grocery bags you had brought in with you. You hear him hum, “potato please.” He said softly, and you nodded once more.

“Coming right up, love.” You say, starting to prepare the ingredients for your homemade potato soup as he just sat there on the couch, admiring you as you worked. His chest swelling with love as you were so determined to help take care of him, even though you just had in another way.

© Strnilolover

♡ A/N : Sorry if this is shit, this is my first smut thing I’ve ever actually written. Also if it seems kind of rushed, sorry lol. I hope y’all enjoy this!

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗩𝗘 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗗𝗜𝗘

　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: When Nick and Matt test positive for covid and Chris has to go into lockdown to prevent catching the virus, who will look after them?

WARNING: Covid-19, sickness.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N sighed as she turned off her car, preparing herself for the long days ahead, not that it was a burden for her to take care of her boyfriend and best friends, almost brothers.

Matt and Nick tested positive for Covid-19 two days ago, and the first thing Chris did upon receiving their test results was send a quick text to Y/N saying that they both had the virus and that he and his brothers would have to be in lockdown for at least five days.

He sent many texts asking her to not worry, as his brothers' symptoms weren't much more than the flu, and that he was fine and would stay in his room so he wouldn't run the risk of catching the virus too, but who said she listened?

Y/N knew that Chris wouldn't have the patience to make healthy food at least three times a day for him and his brothers, and she knew how afraid he was of getting sick too. Y/N didn't have that worry, being a medical student and a resident at LA's main private hospital, she knew very well how to deal with all of this and wouldn't spare any energy when taking care of her family.

The girl was grateful that her boss had empathy and gave her a few days off work.

With that, Y/N prepared herself the day before, going to the nearest pharmacy to buy some boxes of covid tests and a new box of disposable masks, since the one she had at home was running low, and then went to Target, buying several healthy snacks, fruits, vegetables and chicken to make several soups and light food dishes, not intending to make anything heavy or fatty with fear of making the boys' situation worse.

Today, before leaving the house, Y/N prepared a backpack with a few extra changes of clothes, without overfilling it due to having more than enough of it at the triplets' house. Furthermore, she took a purse and put everything she would need: masks, tests, food and some medicines that are allowed during covid to alleviate some symptoms.

Before getting out of the driver's seat, Y/N grabbed the mask she had ready next to her, putting it on her face and finally getting out of the car. Y/N closed the door and opened the back seat, grabbing her backpack and purse, quickly locking the car and walking to the front door. The girl searched the pocket of her Fresh Love sweatpants, soon finding the spare key to her boyfriend's house.

After unlocking the door, she opened it carefully, not wanting to make too much noise, already knowing that one of the boys had a headache, if not all of them.

The girl walked to the kitchen and placed her things on the counter, before going back to the door to close and lock it.

Before Y/N started her first task, she walked to Chris's room, seeing the door closed. She knocked twice lightly, opening it slowly and seeing Chris under the covers staring at the ceiling, in the dark, with only the light from his TV illuminating the space, the girl held back a laugh knowing that her boyfriend was probably losing his mind for staying locked in his room alone for days.

Chris quickly raised his head with the sound, taking a few seconds to realize that Y/N was there, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Babe, what are you doing here?" He asked, getting up quickly and walking towards her, asking with his eyes if he could get closer and the girl rolled her eyes, nodding.

"I came to take care of you three idiots." She mumbled against the mask, closing her eyes momentarily as she felt Chris's arms around her, never wanting to let go.

"I told you not to worry, I had everything under control." Chris murmured, pulling away to look her in the eyes.

"Of course, so much so that you were lying there staring at the ceiling like it was the most interesting thing in the world." She let out a laugh when she heard Chris snort. "I'm sure you must be starving, when was the last time you ate some real food?" Y/N questioned, seeing Chris shrug.

"You talk as if I didn't show up at the hospital almost everyday with lunch for you." Chris snapped like a child, crossing his arms.

"Lunch that Nick made." She argued, laughing loudly when Chris huffed, frowning. "I'm kidding, baby, I love it when you show up at the hospital with lunch for me." Y/N said, approaching and planting a kiss on Chris's shoulder behind the mask.

"By the way, weren't you on duty today?" Chris asked, furrowing his eyebrows as he took his phone out of his hoodie pocket and double-clicked the screen, checking the date.

"I did, but I asked my boss for a few days off so I could take care of you and she gave it to me." Y/N said smiling big, and Chris couldn't help but smile back as he saw his girlfriend's eyes shrink from her happy expression, without being able to see her smile directly.

"Well, since you're already here, I think I'm a little hungry." Chris joked, running his hand over his belly and giving her a mischievous smile.

"Alright little kid, I'm going to cook you something and you're going to stay here in your room and look pretty." The girl said, pushing Chris lightly, blowing a kiss and closing the door behind her.

Y/N walked to the kitchen again, not containing her goofy smile.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

Y/N lifted the lid of the pan, taking the wooden spoon and quickly tasting the chicken soup (here in Brazil we call it canja, and it works miracles when you're sick, and it's delicious), letting out a sound of pleasure for the flavor. She turned off the heat, taking three plates from the cupboard and the spoon, distributing the soup on each of the plates, sprinkling some leek on top before taking three spoons and placing them inside the plates.

The girl took three glasses and added fresh orange juice, which she made minutes before, and took two pills of the only headache medicine allowed during the virus.

Y/N opened one of the cabinets and took three trays, placing them side by side on the counter and arranging on top of each one the plate of soup, the glass of juice and the medicine pill.

She quickly grabbed the first tray and walked carefully to Matt's bedroom door, bending down and placing the tray on the floor before knocking on the door three times.

"Matt?"

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" Y/N heard Matt's voice, feeling in his voice the pain the boy was feeling.

"I came to take care of you three, I made some soup and juice, they're in here." She replied, hearing the boy move around inside the room before walking away and returning to the kitchen, hearing the sound of the door opening and closing a few minutes later.

Y/N took the second tray and walked to Nick's room, hearing his voice behind the door, assuming he was on a call with someone or recording a video. The girl bent down and placed the tray on the floor again, knocking firmly on the door to make sure Nick heard.

"What are you doing outside your room, Chris?" Nick shouted from inside the room, making the girl laugh. "Y/N?!" He asked in surprise before quickly opening the door and Y/N applauded herself for wearing the mask. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be working?" Nick asked, holding the camera in one of his hands, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"I took a few days off to take care of you three. And I made real food!" Y/N repeated the same sentence for the thousandth time, pointing to the tray, smiling when she saw the taller's eyes light up.

The boy bent down, picking up the tray with one of his hands and straightening up, raising the camera again and smiling wide at the lens.

"Guys, Y/N brought food for us, the hungry ones. Everyone say "thank you Y/N"." Nick spoke into the lens, smiling widely at the girl before closing the door after seeing her turn to go back to the kitchen.

Finally, the girl took the last tray and walked to the last room, her boyfriend's, where she would stay for the rest of the days, knowing that the boy was free of the virus.

"Honey? Open here for me, please." Y/N asked from behind the door, entering the room after Chris quickly opened it with a smile on his face, staring at the soup on the tray.

The girl let out a laugh, placing the tray on the boy's computer desk and sitting on his bed, pointing at the food.

"Bon appétit, my love."

"What would I do without you?" Chris asked, approaching the computer desk and sitting in the chair.

"Starve and die." She replied, laughing loudly behind her mask as she saw Chris shove a spoonful of soup into his mouth as he nodded quickly, without actually hearing her.

[twodimensionalboyfriend]

Sick </3

wc: ~1.3k read time: ~5 minutes

༉‧₊˚.¸♡ master list✧ '*•༉

cw: fluff! smooches here and there i guess! gn throughout! also not proofread lol

I have fucking covid!! my bones are on fire!!!

on a serious note, i have never been sick like this before in my life, i had the worst skin and joint aches i'd ever had in my life and my head felt like it was going to explode with pressure and my ears are still fuckin clogged. so anyways im gonna project my problems into this fic in the order in which i experienced them as a form of therapy and if anybody else is out there sick rn, i hope you have a jason todd to make it bearable!

On a silly note, I met a stray cat in the neighborhood the other day but she's been spayed! im hoping this is the cat distribution system at play

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," you groaned.

You're sitting on the couch trying to convince your boyfriend that you're not sick. It's just allergies! Allergies that come with body aches, pressure in your head, and now a fever.

Jason showed you the thermometer, "Dude, you're running at 100.1..."

You looked at the thermometer incredulously, "Isn't that thing super old? I mean how do we even know it still works? Take it again."

Jason sighed and scanned your forehead again, "Babe, we bought this a couple months ago." He glared at you as he showed you the thermometer again, which now read 100.2.

"Tch, that's barely even a fever," you said rolling your eyes.

"That's it. You're going on bed rest."

"Woah, what?? Jason, I told you I'm fine! Besides I have so much to do today. We need groceries, I have a prescription to pick up, there are so many dishes in the sink, I have laundry to fold and I have work this evening. A little cold isn't... what are you doing?" You cut yourself off as you saw Jason typing on his phone.

"Thanks for the to-do list! While you rest, I'll go and get this done. Grocery list is on the fridge and our pharmacy is in the store, so text me if you need anything else. I am more than capable of doing dishes and laundry, so you don't have to worry about that. And I love you, but you're crazy if you think you're going into work tonight. Text your boss a picture of the thermometer and call out. Or I'll do it for you, whatever you prefer."

"Ar-Are you sure? I mean it's..." You trailed off. You really did feel like shit and it's not like you necessarily wanted to do these errands and chores. After a moment of thinking, you sighed and relented, "Okay, fine, only if you're completely sure you can handle it."

"(Y/N), I'm an adult. If I couldn't do laundry, you should be worried about me." You tried to laugh a little, but it quickly snowballed into a coughing fit, "Woah woah, take it easy. I'm gonna take the list and go to the store. Again, text me if you need anything or if you just wanna say hi," he said with a smile.

Your eyes welled up a bit as you whispered, "Thank you, Jason. I love you very much."

"I love you too, I'll be back soon."

--------

The front door swung open and Jason's voice rang through your shared apartment, "Honey, I'm home!"

You couldn't have gotten up if you tried. You're sickly moan from the couch alarmed Jason, and he dropped the groceries and ran to your side.

You were lying on the couch in your spiderman sweats and a hoodie; your arms draped over your eyes to block out the white lights from the kitchen that added to your headache. Your entire body ached like it never has before. The sight squeezed Jason's heart. "Oh, honey," he said sympathetically, pressing his hands to your cheeks, "Woah, you are burning up! Hang on." He snatched the thermometer from the coffee table and tested his partner. The screen lit up red. It read 101.7.

You mumbled, "H-Holy shit..." It was a bit too much to talk right now.

"Okay babe, I got you some chicken noodle soup because that's what Alfred always made us, and I don't quite have his cooking skills--and this is, uh from a uh... a can--but I'm gonna make some for you, and that should hopefully make you feel better," he looked at you with worry. "Then would you want to watch Pride & Prejudice while I folded the laundry? The movie obviously, since you like it. Even though the show is better," he grumbled at the end.

God damn it. You were crying again.

You were experiencing so many different emotions you didn't really know what else to do. You loved Jason so much and felt so much gratitude for the way he was taking care of you. As if there was nothing else he could possibly be doing right now other than be here. This is on top of the fact that you've been in agony for the past hour as you got worse and worse; and you were really tired of feeling that way.

This shocked and scared Jason, "I'm sorry!! The movie isn't that bad! I just like that the show's more accurate to the book! Also, when Lizzie runs through the rain, why does she grab a soaking wet cloth from the very same rain storm to dry her hair?! I'm sorry I just--"

"I love you so much," you croaked out. "I also feel like fucking garbage."

This put Jason at ease and he kissed the top of your head. "I'm sorry you feel like shit, sweetheart. I do this because I love you too. Like, a lot. Now stop talking and spare your voice. Let's get you cozy and hopped up on vitamin C, and we'll just take it easy."

-----------------

The next morning, you woke up. You sat up slowly and realized most of the pressure in your head is gone. Your body no longer felt like it was on fire! Definitely still congested though. You also realized you fell asleep on the couch after the first proposal, yet you were currently sitting in your bed. Jason must've brought you in. Suddenly, a sneeze crept up and exploded out of you. Then another. Then one more. Jesus, that hurt your chest.

Your fit was loud enough to let Jason know you had woken up. He came into the room holding a spatula. The opened door let in a sweet smell and a sizzling sound. "How are you feeling, baby?" He walked towards you.

"Well I can bear to be conscious, so I'd say much better. What's going on in the kitchen?"

He pressed his hand to your forehead and said, "Pancakes! And lots of orange juice. I don't think you’re in the clear yet. Sit tight; I'm gonna get the thermometer and take your temperature."

Ignoring his request, you got up to meet him in the living room. You stepped out of the bedroom and was met with the sight of Jason discarding the pancake that had burned due to his doting. He saw you walking towards him and urged you to go back to bed, "Go back! I'm gonna bring you breakfast in bed. Pancakes, juice, fruit, the whole shebang."

"No it's okay, let me be out here with you. I'd kiss you good morning, but I fear I might poison you and get you sick."

Jason stole a quick kiss, much to your surprise, "I spent all night with you. If I were to get it, I don't think a kiss would be what seals my fate. You're plate is ready, by the way."

He handed you a plate stacked with 3 pancakes and a butter slice, drizzled in maple syrup with strawberries and whipped cream. It was beautiful, "Oh my god, Jason, that's so gorgeous I don't think I can eat it." Your stomach growled and promptly gave away your true feelings.

"Tear it up, baby girl."

You sat down as Jason finished making his stack. He sat down with you and you both began eating. Pre-packaged pancake mix has never tasted so good.

"Thank you for nursing me back to health, Jason. You've made this past few days in unbearable hell feel more like a manageable limbo."

He laughed, "What else was I supposed to do? Let the love of my life suffer?"

"God I don't know what I would do if I didn't have you in my life."

"Well, fortunately, you'll never have to." He leaned over the table and pressed a syrupy kiss to your lips.

if there are an content warnings you think i missed, please tell me so!! i’ll add them to this post and remember to add them to future ones!! :) ♡ ♡

and pls pls like and reblog and reply!! literally if you interact i will kiss you on the mouth

[sturniolosass]

Sick - a Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Summery - Nick and Matt are sick with Covid and you offer to come and help take care of them.

*fluff, like…pure fluff*

It’s Tuesday Night and you get a call from your boyfriend Matt letting you know he tested positive for covid, Your first reaction was to ask if he need anything medicine, soup, water. He had stated that he and the boys were fine without it and that you should stay home and rest but you insisted. So ending the call you decided to head over to him and his brothers home to help take care of all three of them.

Before heading to the house you decided to run to your local grocery store and grab a few things for the soup you’d be making and also a box of tea.

Once you checked out you started making your way to the house.

Once you arrived you knocked on the door urgently and saw Chris, you urgently pulled a mask over your face

“Yo! I’m good, i don’t have Covid…” he said

“ohhh oh my god, i thought all of yall were sick as fuck” you stated with a sigh of relief

“where are Matt and Nick?” you asked with a sense of panic

“they are both locked away in their rooms..i wouldn’t let them contaminate you” he laughed

“I don’t think it would matter hence i put myself in this situation. Wanna help me cook?” you ask Chris hoping he’d say no remembering his cooking history

“uhhhh im not sure you want that..” Chris replied

“you know what! you’re right” you replied rushing over to the stove

You put everything down on the counters before rushing around the corner hall to Matt’s room. Knocking on the door you say “Matt, are you hungry? How’re you feeling?” then listening in for a response you hear counting..

“1..2..3..4..5” Matt counts..

You call again “Matt?!”

Matthew then hurriedly opens the door wearing a mask he then says “what’re you doing here..? you’re gonna get sick! go home!” he rushing griefs to shut the door.. but your foot’s in between the hinges “i wanted to come and take care of you guys i know you guys don’t really know how to do that yourself.., have you even had any medicine..?” you ask worriedly “yea..” Matt looks around suspiciously “well no..but still i don’t want you getting sick, you should go home, coming here was sweet though i really appreciate you thinking of us honestly” he replies expecting you to leave which you do.. but not the house

Time to cook..

You grab all your ingredients and start making the soup. Onion, Celery, Garlic, Carrots, Noodles, etc.. once everything is cooking you decide to throw on a movie within the same time in which Chris decides to come up stairs from the ground floor… “sooo like, I know i’m not sick but that smells oh so yummy” he says in a weird yet entertaining voice “can i please have some too?” he begs. You look at him funny and reply “I mean.. i guess i’m trying to make enough so that there’s at least enough for two days..” he then notices the TV and asks “what is this? saltburn or some shit?” you look at him in disgust “No. it’s The Turning” you say matter of factly. “what is it about” he asks, “i don’t know for real, just some indie horror film” you tell, “oh alright well please let me know first when the food is done” he pleads. “whatever.” you say.

One the food is done you call up the guys one by one to grab a bowl. First Chris cause he asked so kindly, then Nick.. Once Nick comes down he seems fine, Then he starts coughing a lot, causing you to worry and offer him tea. He politely declines claiming to not enjoy tea that much. He then heads back upstairs and Matt comes out of his room after 5 minutes..

“Hey, I really appreciate you coming here and treating me and my brothers so sweet.. i was on the phone with my mom and she really thanks you because she can’t be here to do these things for us” he says lovingly smiling up at you with his cute little red nose from blowing it all day. “no problem, i love you guys a lot. you especially, so i have no problem with probably leaving here sick just to make sure you guys are ok” you reply. Matt them comes behind you whilst you’re stirring the soup on the low heat and gives your back a nice firm hug. “I love you” he says. At first you’re very caught off guard because that’s the first time he’s spoken those three words to you.. but coming to your senses you immediately respond “i love you too, Matt” in to which he smiles in the crook of your neck and kisses it. You turn and hug him back.

“Want some soup or tea?” you ask politely. “Sure, i’ll have some tea” he responds thankfully. “i already had food like a few hours ago. thank you though.” he adds. You pop a Peppermint tea in the keurig and he sits at the table. “i’m glad you’re here, i feel like i’ve been going crazy locked in my room all day.” he speaks. “I was counting my steps as i paced my room earlier because my apple watch felt i was being ‘lazy’ even though i’m quite frankly sick as all hell” he adds.. “hahaha yea i heard that, i was so confused” you reply coming in for a kiss in which he hesitates “i don’t wanna risk your chance of getting more sick” he states in to which you reply “the sickness is airborne, love. if im gonna get sick it’s gonna happen regardless. i’ve already stepped in the house.” leaning in you kiss his lips. The keurig finishes and you mix a little bit of honey in his mug and hand him the cup.

Nearing the end of the night you and Matt head into his room to relax, figuring you’d already be sick Matt invites you to stay the night knowing it shouldn’t get any worse from here unless you go home where your family lives. You both decide to watch a movie, Matt begging you to help him finish saltburn stating he was bored with it in the first 20 minutes. You oblige only to regret it seeing he’s only watched a small portion of the ‘weird’ movie, however you continue watching just to keep him company and watch him fall asleep comfortably in your arms...

The End :)

a/n: idk how i feel about the end of this.. but you know what, its my first and i’ll only get better as i keep going.. :)) THANKS FOR READING!

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙢 || dieter bravo x camgirl!reader (part three; finale)

read 𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙩 (part one) and 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙢 (part two) first!

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || he can't believe you're really here— now he has to just try not to blow it... figuratively speaking.

���𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5.7k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ only; unprotected sex, oral f receiving, multiple orgasms/overstimulation [for reader], creampie), sex work (however dieter technically does not pay the reader for sex, just her flight to visit him c:), mentions of covid-19 pandemic, soft dieter being soft, emotions!! lots of 'em!, extremely sappy/fluffy ending (oops?)

He wasn’t sure who he was more worried would get recognized: you, or himself.

It was his idea to go out to dinner first, in fact he’d insisted on it.  Going out to dinner in times like these was a bit iffy, but thankfully the place had outdoor dining and you’d both already tested negative— for more than just the virus…

It was a beautiful evening to eat outside, but it made him even more anxious that any passerby might know him either of you from your respective works; so far, no one had said anything though.

As he watched you take a sip of your sparkling water, he realized that he hadn’t had a crush on anyone in a long, long time.  He hadn’t had sweating palms and a racing heart and a dry throat over someone since probably high school.  By the time he was in his BFA program, he was so focused on his craft that he didn’t find himself worrying much about that sort of stuff— and if he wanted to get someone into bed, it didn’t seem like much to stress over.

This was different.  This wasn’t an issue of getting you to sleep with him, although he certainly hoped you wouldn’t renege on the intentions you’d stated before— this was about getting you to like him, maybe even (as he would’ve put it back when he last had a crush) ‘like like’ him.

“Was your flight okay?” Dieter asked compulsively to fill the silence, proud of himself for thinking of something to say.

“Still good,” you nodded.  “You asked me that when we first got here.”

“Right,” he sighed, “sorry.  I forgot.”

“It’s fine,” you laughed, setting your glass down on the white tablecloth.  “I’m nervous, too.  But in a good way.”

He smiled.  “Yeah— I’m just really excited that you’re here.  And it’s still kind of weirding me out that you’re… you know, real.”

“It’s definitely trippy,” you agreed.  “When you see somebody over video chat a lot, they look sort of surreal in real life.”

“Are you… speaking from experience?” he wondered, lowering his voice a bit.

“Yeah— but not this kind of experience,” you clarified.  “I’ve never met anyone from my work before— I told you that.”

“Right, yeah— I believe you,” he assured.  “Have you ever flown overseas just to meet someone before?”

You laughed, looking down for a second.  “No, I haven’t,” you answered, “but this isn’t the first time I’ve been, you know, wined and dined by somebody…”

“Well, I figured this wasn’t your first date,” Dieter scoffed.

“No, I mean— well, yeah,” you hummed, “but I, um… before I started camming, I was actually a sugar baby.  So I’ve had my flights paid for before, is what I mean.”

He widened his eyes a little, but nodded— hoping to look more intrigued than overwhelmed.  “Oh, wow, that’s— I don’t know a lot about that, honestly…”

“I was about to ask if you’d ever had a sugar baby before,” you smirked, “guess not.”

“Yeah, no,” he shook his head, “not my— not for me.  Not before, I mean— is that what you want?”

He got a little nervous that you would only want that— a relationship built on money.  He was more than happy to drop some cash on you— he’d offered to pay for everything for you on this trip, it only seemed fair when you had to come all this way— but he got a sick feeling in his stomach imagining that that was all you wanted from him.

But then again, he just said he didn’t know a lot about it, maybe it wasn’t like that… he just felt like it was another performance, and that was the last thing he needed from anybody.

“O-oh, no— not with us,” you answered quickly, blinking a few times, and he sighed with relief.  “I mean, it was nice— it wasn’t all old guys and crazy finance douchebags like people think,” you explained with a laugh, “but it was… it was hard work, in its own way.  ‘Cause another misconception is that it’s sex in exchange for money and gifts— it’s not, not the way I did it at least.  Those guys wanted the ‘girlfriend experience’... that’s the most profitable thing, whether it’s online or in-person.”

Dieter cleared his throat; can’t blame them, I guess…

“But, you know, they didn’t have the time for a genuine relationship, so it was like giving that emotion but never receiving it,” you continued, “and that was exhausting.  Not to mention most of them had other girls involved… I’m not a jealous person, but you know, that’s obviously not what I want for myself in the end.  So I switched to camming, worked out well with the pandemic and everything…”

“I’m sure,” Dieter agreed.  “So, um… maybe this is kind of a forward question, for a first date, but… what do you want for yourself in the end?”

You seemed to get a little more shy, then.  “Well…” you began softly.  “Despite what you’ve seen me do, I’m a pretty traditional girl.  I want a serious relationship, I want a lifelong commitment, I want… a family, probably.”

It was hard not to feel a lump in his throat when you said that, even if his emotions were conflicted at best.

“I mean— that doesn’t have to be you,” you rushed out, “I’m just saying… that’s the end goal.  I have a lot of time for that, in my opinion.”

“No, right,” he agreed.  “So then, I guess the obvious question— and probably a much easier one— is what’s your goal for tonight?”

You raised an eyebrow.  “I already told you my goal for tonight.”

He swallowed thickly.  He remembered your last message before getting on the plane pretty clearly: boarding now. hopefully i can get some sleep but i’m pretty wired ngl. just thinking about getting there and jumping your bones. i want you to fuck me so hard i can’t walk (or think) straight.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded at all if you just took me straight to the hotel,” you smirked, “but dinner is nice.”

“Yeah, I— I thought about it,” he admitted.  “But… can I be honest?”

“Always.”

“I wanted this to be more than just… that,” he said.  He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to tell you, but he hoped it wouldn’t bother you too much.  Thankfully, the gentle smile creeping up your face seemed to indicate that it wasn’t particularly offensive.

“So, what do you want this to be?” you pressed.

“We can figure that out as we go,” he offered, “we should get to know each other better— for real.  But that night that we stayed up until three just talking after what was supposed to be a one-hour call—”

He saw you smile even wider as you remembered it.

“I haven’t felt close to anyone like that in—” he began, but it all stopped as the waiter suddenly appeared from thin air.

“Your tortellini, ma’am,” he said as he set your plate down in front of you, and you offered an intrigued ‘ooh’ as you examined the dish, “and your langoustines alla busara,” he finished as he set Dieter’s food down.

“Thank you,” you offered the server with a polite nod, but Dieter could only muster a hum— he was a little miffed that the guy had managed to interrupt such an important moment.

“Anything else I can get for you two?” he asked, looking back and forth.

You looked over at him to check first, before shaking your head and replying, “No, I think we’re alright.”

“Excellent,” he beamed.  “And— can I just say one thing?”

You both paused, not sure what to make of that.  “Uh, sure,” Dieter decided, since the waiter seemed to be looking at him.

“I loved you in Hunger Strike,” he said excitedly; Dieter tensed up, wanting to look at you to gauge your reaction but suddenly too afraid of what he’d find.

“Oh, thank you,” he mumbled out, “that… means a lot.”

“I mean, it really moved me,” the waiter insisted, even though Dieter just wanted this interaction to end promptly.  “You were so— I’m really not trying to intrude, but is there any way I can get your autograph?”

Then he looked at you, and he couldn’t quite read the expression on your face— amusement, maybe, with a hefty dose of discomfort as well.  You looked away and took a long sip of your drink.  “Uhh,” Dieter choked, looking back at his adoring fan, “you’ll get my autograph when you bring the check.”

Seeming to realize that he had gone too far, the young man straightened up and cleared his throat.  “Right, uh— enjoy your meal.”

Scampering away, he left the both of you behind, along with all that tension he’d created.  How come he got a escape a situation that was his own fault, and Dieter was stuck here wondering if you would be upset that he didn’t tell you who he really was— or if you’d reveal you were a crazy stalker-fan the whole time— or if knowing he was famous would change your interest in being with him (if you even had any)?

“I’m… sorry about that,” Dieter finally offered to you, and you started to smile.

“Don’t be,” you chuckled, “it was kinda funny.  Do you usually react so… badly, to that kind of thing?”

He coughed a bit.  “No, I— are you not…?  Do you know—?”

“I saw the movie, Hector, I don’t live under a rock,” you admitted.

“Oh.”  Not sure what to say next, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind: “What did you think of it?”

Shrugging, you answered with a simple ‘eh’.  There was a pause before he began to crack up— and then you did, too. 

“So, I’ve been worrying about all you finding out about my career for nothing?” he assumed, and you nodded.

“I didn’t recognize you right away,” you explained, “but I put it together before we planned all this.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he wondered.

“I mean, I didn’t think I needed to, really,” you shrugged again.  “It’s just your job.  I was ready to talk about it if you brought it up— if you wanted to vent about work or something— but you never did, so I figured it must not be relevant.”

“Does it… change anything between us?” he asked nervously.  “Do you feel weird about going out with a movie star?”

“Mm, I don’t know about star…” you smirked, making him laugh again— and that was the part that was the same as always.  You still made him laugh, and now that the two of you were really talking again, it felt just like that night that you talked for hours— but even better.

When the plates were cleaned and the bill was paid, the two of you walked back to his hotel— he’d picked this place in part because he could see it from his window.  But that brief walk back was one of his favorite parts of the night so far, only because he’d slipped his arm around you, and you leaned into him: in that moment, he felt more normal than he had in a long time— and yet, at the same time, special in a way he’d never felt before.

~

“I tried to clean up in here, but—”

“Isn’t there housekeeping for that?” you wondered.  

“Yeah, but… I’ve had the ‘do not disturb’ sign up for the past week,” Dieter explained.  “Didn’t want anyone to come in while we were talking…”

“Right,” you smiled, finishing your examination of the room and turning to face him again.  The door shut on its own; you were looking at him with every light in the room reflected in your eyes.

He stepped closer to you, and wrapped his arms around you, and— why were his palms so clammy?  “I don’t think I’ve been this nervous to kiss someone since… since maybe my first ever kiss,” he recalled, and you laughed softly.

“Yeah, me either,” you whispered back, and he ran his hand over the curve of your hip.  “Who was your first kiss?”

“Uh, Sandy something… Brendan, I think— no, Brennan… Sandy Brennan.  We sat next to each other in History class in seventh grade,” he recalled.  “What about you?”

“I mean, unless you count a peck or two from my kindergarten boyfriend,” you chuckled, “my first real kiss wasn’t until high school— Gregory Cho.  But I wasn’t that nervous… actually, I was sort of ready to get it over with.”

“There was someone I was really nervous to kiss in high school, too,” he recalled, “but that was… different.”

“Who was it?”

That name was much easier to recall.  “Alex Brooks.”

“Was she super pretty?  Or popular?” you pressed, wondering what had him so nervous, what made it different.

“Both,” Dieter replied quickly.  “And… he was captain of the basketball team.”

You didn’t react strongly, but he still noticed it.

“Is that—?” he began to ask.

“He sounds like a real catch,” you smiled.  “Was he a good kisser?”

“Yeah,” Dieter laughed, “for a high schooler.  I guess things don’t feel as special now as they did back then— just some decent making-out in someone’s dad’s truck was the coolest thing, now it’s like— it’s all right there, you don’t have to…” he trailed off, but started a new sentence.  “I mean, even you— I’ve seen every part of you, but I just really met you for the first time.  And somehow I’m so afraid to kiss you.”

You were still smiling, but it changed, and you reached up to rest your hand on the back of his neck; it made him shiver in the best way.  “If you’re afraid, then it must still be pretty special.”

You kissed him, after all that; he would’ve felt bad for making you wait, if he wasn’t so fully engrossed in kissing you back and pulling you closer and breathing in deeply against your skin.  

For a long time, that was all it was— just one, amazing kiss.  Just his lips on yours and the gentle dance of trying to go further without going to far; just your hands holding tightly onto his shoulders as he gripped your waist through the dress.

You started to pull him across the room by his shirt— towards the bed— and broke away to speak; he tried to chase your lips for more, but stopped when you bit your lip and rested a finger on his chin.

“You haven’t seen every part of me,” you corrected him— even though he barely fucking remembered saying that after a kiss like that.  “I mean, my body, sure, but… not who I really am.”

“Then show me that,” he pleaded.  “That’s what I want— you, everything.”

You smiled wide and kissed him again, the two of you toppling onto the bed together.  

He’d been thinking about doing this since the moment he saw you: pulling up the bottom of your dress so he could pet your thighs, enamored with the smoothness of your skin.  “Baby,” he purred when he caught sight of your panties— what little there was of them.  The lace just gave him a glimpse of what was beneath, a tease of your perfect little cunt.

“God, I need you so bad,” you groaned as you pulled him down for another kiss; he’d been hard since you wrapped your arms around him, and he could swear he was already throbbing by the time he rocked his hips against yours.  “Fuck— feels even bigger than it looked…”

“Maybe your computer screen wasn’t big enough,” he joked, making you laugh lightly before another moan came out when he rocked down on you again.  “What do you want, beautiful?”

“You… you know what I want…” you panted, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Humor me,” he encouraged, moving in to kiss your neck— and loving the way you squirmed under him.

“Want— want you to fuck me,” you whimpered, “want you to make me— fuck— yours…”

He groaned deeply as he rutted his hips into yours harder, finally taunting you to the point that you had to reach down and start opening his pants.  “So eager,” he mocked playfully, as if he wasn’t going to ravage you the second you were done getting his cock out.

In fact, he almost tore your dress as he pulled it down to expose your chest, barely finding the time to appreciate the view of your tits before latching his mouth onto them.  “Oh fuck,” you gasped, and he smiled around the pert nipple in his mouth; these had seemed sensitive from the way you toyed with them as you touched yourself, but it was heaven on earth to confirm his suspicion himself.

“Want me to make you mine?” he prompted again, voice muffled by your delicate skin in his mouth, and you whimpered as you nodded.

“Yes— please—” you begged.

“Not sure I can do that,” he warned, and you gave him a confused look.  “You’re already mine, you told me yourself.”

You giggled, arching your back slightly as the tip of his tongue drew circles on you.  "I did say that, didn't I?"

"Mhm," he confirmed.  "Hard to forget."

"Well, m'still yours," you offered, "but I need you right now, I'll do— fuck, anything, just—"

"You don't need to do anything," he assured, looking up at you as he moved his mouth from your breast down a little lower, "just lay back and I'm gonna take care of you."

You bit your lip and nodded.

"Second I saw you I wanted to kiss you all over," he sighed.

"Well, I've got a couple ideas of where you can start," you smirked.

And yes, he would love to start there, but he needed to do his best not to rush this.  So, smiling up at you first, he began his journey.  His lips and tongue explored your body on his way down: a kiss here, a lick there, a playful bite when he felt extra naughty.  "You're so fucking beautiful," he mumbled against you.

"Yeah?  You too," you sighed.

He didn't think of himself like that— handsome, maybe, certainly aware of his better angles, but beautiful felt strange.  But he liked it, especially when you said it.  Especially when you said it while he was slotting his face between your legs.

It was even prettier up close, and the smell was fucking intoxicating: tangy and musky and sweet, heady, earthy, human.  And he knew you'd taste even better.

So he dove right in.  Maybe he should've started with your clit, that would've been the obvious choice, but his instincts led him to just slide his tongue right into your hole.  If nothing else, it certainly seemed to take you off guard, and you gasped as you grabbed onto his hair with both hands.

"Baby, fuck, that's— oh god, you can't imagine how many times I thought of this," you admitted, breathing heavy already.  He smiled against you, then gave you one big lick from the furthest down his tongue could reach all the way to the very top— all while holding fierce eye contact with you.  "Fu-uuuuck," you choked, dropping your head back just as your eyes rolled up.  "That's so… just do that again, please…"

He did it a few more times, noticing the way you seemed to get more impatient with each one, until your hips were chasing after his tongue.  "Stay still, baby, don't you trust me to do this right?" he purred, holding tighter on your hips.

"Yeah, I just— been so long," you whimpered.

He just did his best to find what made you scream the loudest and keep doing that— you were so sensitive, he just had to press his tongue down flat on your clit and move it in circles and you’d start shaking and sobbing and begging.  He moaned into you every time you tugged on his hair, having to rock his hips against the bed to appease his attention-deprived cock.

"You're… so amazing," you panted, "I— fuck! Oh god, I can't remember the last time someone—"

You never finished your thought, because he started fucking you with his tongue and you were too busy moaning his name, but he couldn't believe what a waste it was that nobody was eating this pussy on a regular basis.

"Gonna— oh fuck, yes, gonna come," you warned, "I… I'm gonna come so fucking hard…"

You started shaking, and he started fighting to keep you as still as he could so his work wouldn't be interrupted.  For a second he wondered if you were already coming or not— but then you made this noise, and your cunt clamped down on his tongue, and you cried out his name; it was perfect, it was the most beautiful moment he could ever imagine.

When it became too much, you went from tugging his hair to pushing him away with it, and he grinned up at you with a breathy laugh.  “Fuck, baby,” you whimpered, and he saw the tear streaks on your temples and cheeks.  He traced one with his thumb before kissing you again— deep and hungry, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

He hummed when your hands reached down to work on getting his pants off— eager and shaky, he certainly related to that.  As soon as your hand wrapped around his cock, he moaned, just from that.  He was almost embarrassed about it, until you bit his lip in playful encouragement.  "Does that feel good?" you purred.

"Yeah— your hands are better than mine," he laughed breathlessly.  

"How about this?" you raised an eyebrow, swiping your thumb over his slit, and he groaned as he rocked into your touch.

"God, baby…" he groaned.  As good as it felt, he found the strength to grab you by both your wrists and pin them down by your head.  You grinned, struggling just a bit, and moaned as he slid his cock against your soaking pussy.

“Don’t tease me,” you begged, “feels like I’ve been waiting forever.”

But he wasn’t teasing you— he was psyching himself up.

Believe it or not, he actually felt pretty nervous about this part.  Not for a lack of experience— for the entirely opposite reason.  Dieter had been with a lot of people, and for the most part, it was all… the same.  It all blended together— he only remembered those people from when he was a kid because he was a kid, and his romantic encounters were so few and far between.  He could remember details of his various partners from the last few years— Crystal who had a clit piercing, Marvin who begged to be choked, Cameron who seemed to enjoy giving him a blowjob even more than he enjoyed receiving it— but this, the actual sex, it was generally pretty interchangeable.  

So, he was worried that after all that build-up, after all the yearning and fantasizing and talking, that this would be the end of it being special— and you would just turn into a hook-up with a slightly more interesting backstory than the rest.  

As valid as that fear was, it was far from enough to stop him now, not when you were looking up at him and tightening your fists as he kept you pinned and silently begging for him with your eyes.

He had to let go of one of your hands to guide himself inside, but he interlaced the other with your fingers while he did it— and then, with one strong push, he was fully within you.

“Oh my god,” he gasped, “you feel… different.”

You raised an eyebrow, chuckling a little.  “Uh, different than what?”

Than everyone else.  “I— I don’t know,” he breathed, “I’m not making sense.”

“Not really,” you agreed with a laugh.

“Hard to think straight right now,” he defended.

It wasn’t just that you felt different— it was that this felt different: being with someone he really cared about, that he wanted to impress, that he wanted to see after this was over.

Someone that he never wanted to let go of.

“You feel so fucking perfect,” you whimpered, “fuck, don’t stop— feels so good—”

One of the benefits of making you come on his tongue first was that he knew it wouldn't be that bad if he didn't last too long now— though that wasn't why he did it.  In fact, this was rarely his issue, if anything sometimes he struggled to finish for unclear reasons.

But even if he could get away with finishing quickly, he wanted to make this last as long as he could.  He never wanted this to end, actually.

As he found his pace— not too speedy yet, but with a bit of his eagerness showing— he kissed you again, deeply and hungrily.  He wondered if he'd ever done this before: kissing during sex.  He felt like he probably had, and yet he couldn't remember it— maybe that said more than anything.

This, on the other hand, was very memorable.  He slid his arms under you when your back arched, he held you tight and close and drank in every one of your moans through that kiss.

For how many times he’d pictured fucking you, he never really imagined it like this… and he thought he’d imagined it every way before.  But he realized that he’d mostly imagined it a bit kinker— you riding him, or him fucking you while you were bent over the table in his room, or 69’ing or something.  This was passionate, and sorta slow; this was his hips grinding on yours with every thrust so he could keep rubbing your sore clit; this was making love, he realized— if it wasn’t, he couldn’t imagine what was.

“I— fuck, baby— think I’m gonna come again,” you warned him with the most beautiful whiny sob.

“Fuck, already?” he smiled, and you nodded feverishly.  

“Just… don’t stop, please, just like that— fuuuuck!” you choked, and he gasped every time your walls clenched down on him.

“You’re so fucking perfect, fuck,” he grunted, moving a bit faster and not letting up on the pressure from his pubic bone on your clit, even when you actually screamed under him.  “You’re so amazing, oh god, I—”

He heard it before he said it: I think I love you.  He stopped himself before blurting it out— maybe he’d tell you after, but he wasn’t so far gone to forget that this wasn’t the right time.  You’d think he didn’t really mean it, that it was just the delirium talking from how incredible you felt, but he knew it was so much more than that.

He shut himself up by kissing your neck— not too hard, but plenty to leave a mark, and make you squirm in the process.  Your hands wrapped around his back and your nails dug into his skin, but he couldn’t even feel the pain of it, he couldn’t feel anything but the sticky, resplendent heat of your body.

“So much fucking better than the goddamn dildos,” you said suddenly, and he laughed against your skin.  

“Do you miss all those people watching you come?” he wondered.

“No, fuck no,” you panted, “there’s nobody else but you.”

He couldn’t help but fuck you faster when you said that— you should’ve known better than to stroke his ego that way.

“Fuck!” you sobbed.  “Hector, baby, you’re so— oh god, I don’t know if I can take it—”

“Shh, you can,” he promised, “you can do anything, you can come for me again—”

“Oh fuck, I— I might,” you admitted shakily, “but then I’ll— I’ll fucking pass out or something.”

“No, you’ll be okay,” he promised, cooing at you softly.  “You’ll be so good for me, I know you will— just come for me one more time, baby, tell me what you need to come again.”

“I… just a little time is all I need,” you answered, voice breaking.  “I swear I’ve never— I’m not usually so— fuck, it’s just you—”

“I know,” he assured, loving the way you babbled praises but worried it would distract you from coming again; and if you didn’t soon, there wouldn’t be time before he lost it.  He was already barely able to keep his composure just from how beautiful you looked like this, let alone how you felt.  “I know, just let it happen, I know it’s right there for me— just come for me, beautiful—”

You dragged him down into a sloppy kiss, and he felt it— those incredible pulses inside you, waves of slick coating him until he felt sticky all the way down his thighs; your sobs were more precious than anything he’d ever heard.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he praised, fucking you even faster now as your head fell back limply.  “I can’t h-hold back anymore, I need to—”

“I know,” you said to him this time, “it’s okay, please— want you to…”

“You still— oh my god…” he choked, losing his train of thought for a moment.  “You still want me to come inside you?  Wanna be full?”

“Yes,” you whined, “yes, baby, please— wanna be so full of your come, I want everything—”

"Fuck, okay," he agreed, gasping as he tried to keep up his pace despite the growing pressure inside.  "I'm really fucking close…”

“I’m yours,” you told him again— and then he went from ‘really fucking close’ to ‘already fucking there’.  He came inside you with a long, whimpered groan; his head dropped onto your shoulder while each pump filled you, trying to catch his breath but feeling like he’d never find it again.

Admitting he loved you during sex wasn’t a good idea, but saying it immediately after wasn’t that much of an improvement.  Now, though, he was too exhausted to keep his mouth shut.  “I think I love you,” he blurted out suddenly.

For one incredibly long second, you didn’t react at all.  You looked up at him, and he hesitated to even look back because he didn’t want to see anything less than ecstasy on your face.  “Oh,” you said, “cool.”

He wasn’t sure what reaction he anticipated, good or bad, but it wasn’t that.

“Let me know when you know,” you suggested.

“No!  No— I know,” he insisted, reaching up to hold your face, “I know.  I love you.  I think I did even before you came here, but… it just seemed so crazy.  We don’t know each other as well as we should for that, right?  But I feel it— I feel something that I just can’t explain—”

“Hey, slow down,” you laughed, “I feel it too.”

The way you smiled at him, resting your hand on his chest— was he glowing?  He felt like he was actually glowing.  “Good,” he decided.

“Let’s get to know each other better, then,” you announced.  “Start from the beginning, the whole thing: parents, siblings, school, favorite movies, worst dates, hot dogs or hamburgers—”

“No, you start,” he pouted, “you’re more interesting.”

“Me?  Please, I’m just your average camgirl titty streamer, don’t worry about it,” you scoffed.

“And I’m just some lame old Oscar winner,” he shrugged.

But both of you talked— all night, actually.  You never fell asleep, he was never even that tired— you kept him so full of energy he didn’t even notice how long it had been until the sun started to come up.  And then you kept talking at breakfast.  And then you fucked again, and talked some more after; he knew it had to end, eventually, but he didn’t even want to think about it.  He didn’t want to think about you going home and letting something so perfect end.

He told you just as much on the last night— assuming you didn’t switch your flight home to a later day again.  You’d just been laying in his arms after another bout of passionately desperate fucking, both of you half-asleep but not wanting the separation of even just unconsciousness, and he blurted it out.

“Don’t leave,” he pleaded under his breath.  “I don’t want you to go.”

“I know you don’t,” you returned softly.  

“I don’t want this to end.”

You were quiet for a while, turning over on your side to face him, tracing your fingers over his chest gently.  “It doesn’t have to end, just because I leave,” you mumbled.  “I know it’s crazy, but we can be together, even if we’re not… together.  I mean, I’m certainly not gonna be with anybody else—”

“Me either,” he said quickly, before he could change his own mind with the doubts— the voice in his head that said he could never settle down because he’s too fucked up.  “I only want you.”

“It’ll suck, being far away from each other— but you’ll be back Stateside eventually, right?” you assumed.

“God, I hope so,” he sighed, “if the world doesn’t end.”

“If it does,” you whispered, moving in closer, “I hope it’s tonight.  I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else but here.”

It was a romantic thought, but as he kissed you, he realized he’d never wanted the world to end less than he did right now.  He never longed for an apocalypse or anything, even on nights that his doubts and anxieties made him yearn for oblivion just for himself, but just now he could’ve cried thinking about everything falling apart tonight.  Whether it be by fiery explosion or a quiet, instant disappearance, he couldn’t let armageddon happen now— now that he had you.  For the first time, he saw himself having a future, in a way he never had before.  Existing as a ‘celebrity’ meant being on the edge of irrelevance at any moment, knowing this could all go away overnight and you’d just be ‘that guy who was in that thing that one time’.  

But this time, he stood on a precipice of something wonderful, of something natural, and it was the most beautifully terrifying unknown.  It was tomorrow.  Tomorrow, you’d get on the plane; tomorrow, you’d leave, because the world wasn’t going to end tonight.  But his life was going to start tonight, and he didn’t have to face it alone anymore.

[zazter-den]

Wake-Up Call

Synopsis- Your situation Bakugo is on a mission in another country, so why bother worrying him by mentioning that you're sick? (You really should have known that would backfire).

Reader Characteristics- Gender Neutral, Sick (Implied COVID), Brat.

Warnings- Suggestive Ending

Tags- Illness Comfort, Dom Fluff, Long-Distance Fluff, Spanking Mention, D/S Dynamic, FWB!Bakugo, Caretaker!Bakugo.

Word Count- 1500

A breeze slipped through the slightly ajar window of your apartment, filling your bedroom with the smell of rain. The world outside was blanketed in a thick mist, the city was still asleep, muted to a quiet hum. It was a chilly morning, the kind that would have you reaching for a warm cup of coffee and a cozy sweater. But for you, it was perfect.

The sun wasn't even up yet, and you were curled up in bed, buried deep under a pile of blankets. Your makeshift nest kept you warm, while the cold air from the window nipped at your nose. Every breath you took was crisp morning air and the smell of rain-soaked soil. It was a smell you loved, one that always soothed you when you were sick. With a soft sigh, you snuggled deeper into the comforters, letting the calm of the early morning lull you back to sleep.

The world could wait.

With your face nestled into the cool sheets, you were on the verge of slipping back to sleep. At least you were, before a sudden melody filled the room. The calming marimba cover of the Final Fantasy intro was a sound only assigned to your closest party members. With a groan, you reluctantly popped your head out from under the warm cocoon of your comforters. Your fingers clumsily fumbling for the source of the noise. The cellphone screen hurt, even with the reduced brightness of night mode, and you squinted at it, trying to make out the caller ID. Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes finally focused on the TNT emoji that popped up with the video call.

Katsuki.

A facetime call? This early? Your sleepy confusion only got worse. Your… well, you weren't quite sure what to call him. Best friend? Lover? Bro with benefits? It was complicated. Bakugo was supposed to be away on a mission in another country. Their facetime calls were always scheduled ahead of time, taking into account the time difference and the unpredictable work shifts you both had. An unscheduled call like this was… unusual, let alone a video chat. With a sense of growing dread, your mind started racing with possibilities. Was the mission a success? Was he okay? What if something had happened?

Pushing down the worry that had begun to creep up, you swiped to connect the video call. Your heart pounded in your chest as you waited for the connection to go through. The phone flickered, and then Bakugo's face filled the screen. It was a bright afternoon wherever he was. His spiky blond hair glinted in the sunlight, and his red eyes seemed even brighter. His face was a sight for sore eyes, and without realizing it, a sleepy smile found its way onto your face. Whatever was going on, it was good to see him.

"You wanna tell me why I had to hear from Deku that you're sick?"

Oh. Oh, you take that back.

"Good mornin' to you too Kacchan" your voice squeaked, trying (and failing) to hide the guilt you felt. Cheeks flushing, you quickly buried your face into the pillow. Your eyes peeped out over the top, like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. You could feel his glare burning into you through the screen, and knew you were in for an earful.

"Don't fuckin' 'Kacchan' me" Bakugo snapped, his scowl deepening. His voice had that distinctive edge to it, the one that told her he was more worried than mad. It might be bright and shining where he was, but his mood was anything but sunny.

You swallowed hard, throat dry as you tried to find the right words. "It's just a mild case, Katsuki" you admitted in a small shaky voice. You nestled your fevered face further into the cool pillow. "I'm just tired, can't really think straight… and I've been sleeping a lot." You gave him a weak smile, trying your best to reassure him.

Too bad your words didn't seem to have the desired effect. If anything, his frown only grew. "I'll be over it by the time you fly back home… so I figured I wouldn't worry you" you added, trying to sound upbeat despite the fatigue that weighed you down.

Bakugo pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed shut in frustration. "Great plan" he muttered sarcastically. "Do you have any idea how fuckin' worried I was when Deku told me you had to catch your breath on the stairs?"

You let out a nervous chuckle, hand rubbing the back of your neck. "You'll be happy to know I've started taking the elevator?" you offered, attempting to lighten the mood.

Bakugo's glare softened a little, but he wasn't about to let you off that easy. "Not the point, and you damn well know it. You should have told me, sweetheart. I don't care if it's “mild” or not. I should've been the first to know. If you're sick, I wanna be there for you, even if it's just through the phone."

The screen shook a bit as Bakugo let out an exasperated sigh. He cares, deeply, that much is clear- even if neither of you have taken the step to label what's going on between them. It's in the way his eyes softened after the initial anger, in the way he called you first thing after hearing the news, even with oceans between the two of you. "Just...take care of yourself, okay? And keep me updated, no matter how small the shit is. Got it?" Bakugo's voice was rough, but the concern unmistakable.

"Heh, you care about me" you couldn't help but poke fun, laying back and stretching your arms above your head. The chilly morning mist moved the translucent curtains, but you couldn't feel warmer. As you settled back on the bed, the phone angle shifted, giving him a clearer view of your "pajamas".

"I care about you not being a dumba-" Katsuki began, his usual attitude ready on his tongue, but it fizzled out as you derailed his train of thought. His eyes fixated on the bright red stylized skull stitched across the cotton top you wore. He already knew the answer, but asked anyway. "...Is that my shirt?" he demanded in a softer voice, his cheeks quickly gaining a subtle pink.

"Ah, ya, sorry. You left it here last time you were over" You admitted a little sheepish, fingers nervously started to play with the hem. The fabric was worn and soft from use, and it's comforting in a way that's hard to describe. "I've been having really bad body aches and it's the softest shirt here" you added. "I'll take it off if you want?" The offer is genuine, but it's clear from the reluctant tilt of your head and the way your grip tightened on the fabric, that you'd rather not part with the small piece of him you have.

"No" Katsuki blurted out more quickly than he intended, his ears now matched the soft pink of his cheeks. He turned away from the camera, as if his sudden interest in the landscape in the distance could hide the heat he felt creeping up his neck. "It's fine."

"Bakugo Katsuki- are you blushing?" you teased, amusement clear as day. He could practically hear the smirk in your words. Your sleepy grin was wide on his screen, and he could feel it without looking.

"Hush" he growled, trying to regain composure as he glared into the camera at you. The red in his cheeks deepened despite his best efforts. "It's not like I haven't seen you in my stuff before. Just... keep the damn shirt on if it makes you feel better" he conceded gruffly, unable to hide the fact that, deep down, he likes seeing you wrapped up in something of his. Bakugo's eyes narrowed as he caught the bratty grin still stretched across your face, your smugness speaking volumes through the screen. His initial embarrassment at being caught blushing quickly evaporated. If the little brat wanted to play, then fine by him.

"But don’t think you’re off the hook for keeping me in the dark, darlin'" he chuckled darkly, the sound sent a shiver down your spine. Your grin faltered, replaced by a nervous gulp. You knew that tone, the one that signaled you had danced on the line and now Katsuki was about to remind you just who’s in charge.

He leaned closer to the phone, his red eyes piercing into yours. "Once I’m back, you’re gonna wear that shirt- and that shirt only" Bakugo said with a feral grin, the demand in his voice leaving no room for argument. "Then I’m gonna spank that ass of yours until it’s as red as the skull on your chest." The edge in his voice stole your breath away, and you sat up a little straighter.

Bakugo was miles away but it felt like he was here, invading your bedroom, taking over every inch of air around you. You could feel his authority fall over you like a comforting weight. Your body already ached for his touch, for the slap of his hands, the sharp bite of his teeth, and the relentless pounding of his cock. A whimper you didn't realize you were holding back slipped out, and now Katsuki was the one leaning back with a satisfied smirk. “Better be good for me and rest up, brat. I'll see you when I get home.”

No pressure tags for the Kacchan fans!: @bakubunny @neon-gothicc @dcsiremc @sadgirltrademark @purecoco

[writing-for-marvel]

Quarantine

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

< < PART 7 | Series Masterlist

Summary: When you get sick at work, Bucky ensures you’re well taken care of.

Warnings: strictly 18+ due to the AU, reader gets sick at work and collapses, Bucky being worried and an absolute sweetheart while taking care of her

Word count: 1.3k (I know this is just a short one but my plan for the next part is quite long)

A/N: so I’ve been sick in bed all this week with covid and the only thing I’ve wanted is Bucky taking care of me. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

Bucky takes the stairs two at a time.

He’s treated many patients in the field who have tripped on steps doing exactly what he is right now, but he doesn’t care.

All he cares about is getting to you.

Bursting out of the stairwell at level two, Bucky searches for the room Wanda quoted to him over the phone. He’s never been to this area of the hospital before, all the corridors and nurses stations look the same, but as soon as he spots her characteristic red hair, he feels respite from the anxious constriction in his chest.

Wanda thanks him for coming so quickly, as if the news that you were ill, collapsed during a shift and now in a hospital bed of your own didn’t send him into a panic and have him rushing here like his life depended on it, before guiding him to where you are.

The room is dark, curtains pulled all the way over the spacious windows, and serenely quiet other than the whizzing mechanical sound coming from the infusion pump connected to the IV inserted in your arm.

You groan when you recognise that it’s Wanda and Bucky who have entered the room.

“Wan, you didn’t have to call him.” Bucky can immediately tell, just by the sound of your unusually hoarse voice, that you’re clearly not well.

“He’s your emergency contact and you are in no state to work nor drive yourself home, so yes, I did have to call him.” Wanda proclaims in a stern, slightly exasperated tone which indicates to Bucky she likely had this same conversation with you multiple times before he arrived.

“Bucky, I’m okay, you don’t have to be here.” You try convincing him, though you’re not very compelling when your sentence ends with a hearty coughing fit.

“If you were fine you wouldn’t be lying in a hospital bed coughing up your lungs.” Bucky comments as he makes his way over to beside your bed. You look completely fatigued, struggling to even keep your eyes open.

Bucky’s never seen you look weak before, and the clench of his heart at the sight strongly suggests he doesn’t like it one bit.

“I just need a little rest and some IV fluids, then I’ll be fine to go back to work.” Your words almost sound comical with how raspy and fragile your voice is, but Bucky knows your insistence is a testament to your dedication to your job. “There’s really no reason to be worried.”

“I’m always worried about you.” Bucky mentions in a low tone, for your ears only, before placing a gentle kiss to your burning hot forehead. He takes your hand, your skin clammy against his. “Baby you can’t treat patients when you’re like this, you’re at risk of infecting them. Let me take you home.”

You concede as you lift yourself onto your forearms, sitting up in the bed, not without a dry cough being forced from your lungs by the effort. Bucky winces in response to the gravelly sound and the pain twisting in your face.

He wishes he could take it all away. All your suffering, all the sickness. On the job, Bucky is always able to provide assistance - relief from pain, to reduce bleeding, to ease anxiety. But for the one person in this world he cares about the most, he’s subjected to watching her suffer.

“Could you help please?” Holding out your hand where the catheter for your IV is inserted, you look up at him with helpless, wide eyes which makes Bucky smile and his heart flutter in his chest. It’s always nice to be needed.

Sanitising his hands and pulling on latex gloves, he places a sweet kiss to your knuckles before working to remove the IV, aware of your gaze on his every move.

“There you go darling, all done.” Bucky declares with a kiss to your nose, keeping pressure on your hand with his thumb to stop any bleeding before being able to tape a cotton round to it. “Ready to go home?”

“With you, always.”

Bucky protectively keeps his arm around you the entire way down to the staff parking until buckling you in the passenger seat of your own car, cautious knowing you had a moment of lightheadedness earlier today.

You rest your head against the side window, arms curled around yourself as Bucky begins the short drive to your place, turning the heating up to ensure you don’t get cold now that you are out from under the blankets Wanda had acquired for you.

“So… you made me your emergency contact.” Bucky broaches, having previously been unaware of this fact. He contemplated the reason Wanda called him today is because she knows the two of you are in a relationship, but warmth blooms in his chest at the notion you have officially designated him as the person you want to be contacted in a crisis.

“I changed it about a week ago. It was my mom, but she lives out of state… and I thought you’d probably want to know if something terrible happens to me.” It is probably such a minor thing in a normal relationship, just something which sits unutilised in an employee file, but to Bucky, who works in a profession where emergency contacts are critically important, it feels like an honour bestowed upon him to be appointed as yours. “Is that okay?”

“More than okay, darling.” Bucky smiles as the hand he is not using on the steering wheel comes to rest on your thigh, squeezing gently. “If anything happens to you, I wanna be the first to know, good and bad.”

With a snuffle of your nose and the best smile you can muster given your current energy levels, you interlace your hand with his and say “you’re always the first person I want to tell every piece of good news to, Bucky.”

When you arrive home, the first thing Bucky does is lead you straight to bed and tuck you in with two different blankets and the stuffie he won you during your date to the local carnival which visited town last week.

He gathers all the supplies you’ll need for the rest of the afternoon - cold and flu tablets, a water bottle, tissues and throat lozenges, making sure they’re all within reach of your place in bed. Bucky gently washes your feverishly warm face with a cool, damp face cloth, and insists you take a drink of water to prevent from becoming dehydrated.

Then, when you start to say goodbye, for whatever reason thinking Bucky is going to leave you here to be sick on your own, he pulls his Henley off, and climbs into bed behind you.

“No, Bucky…” You whine, feebly attempting to push him away from lying beside you in bed, which is a new and strange experience for Bucky.

“I think the fever has made you delirious, darling.” Bucky chuckles, taking your hand against his bare chest and covering it with his own as he snuggles even closer next to you.

“You’re gonna get sick too if you stay.” Bucky kisses your chapped lips, to prove that he’s not afraid of being with you whilst you're unwell.

“Baby, I had my tongue down your throat last night. If you’re already sick, I’m bound to get sick too.” Even if he weren’t already fated to contract the same illness as you, he’d take that risk just to fall asleep beside you.

You provide no more protest, surrendering to Bucky’s warm embrace and quickly falling into a deep, recuperative sleep. Bucky watches as your chest rises and falls, treasuring every moment he gets to spend by the side of the woman he loves, even if you are slightly sweaty and phlegmy.

When you both wake the following morning, still tangled in each other, you have matching runny noses, sore throats and dry coughs. The following week is destined to be spent curled up in bed together and taking care of one another. At least you don’t have to suffer alone.

Part nine coming soon

Be added to the taglist here

He’s Hazardous To My Health [Paramedic!Bucky Barnes] Taglist: @lavenderpenumbra @crazyunsexycool @eralen @buckbuckyoongs @blackwidownat2814 @crayongirl-linz @ozwriterchick @desert-fern @misshale21 @chalesleclerc164 @rookthorne @janineb86 @emmabarnes @scarletbich @princezzjasmine @thebuckybarnesvault @doasyoudesireandlive @solitarioslilium @iamfandomwasted @tanyaspartak @pop-rocks-818 @dumdidditydumdoo @missvelvetsstuff @kayden666 @amiimar @katheryn1 @safew0rd @kentokaze @thewackywriter @lady-loki-barnes-djarin @badasswlthafatass @loveoldmenlikelana @00cmh @pointless-girl @honeyglee @nerdxacid @ashhsage @prettylittlepluviophile @otomefromtheheart @sjsmith56 @mandijo17 @lokidokieokie @oceansandblackhearts @rebeccapineapple @soorwellystan @excusememrbarnes @lofaewrites @snapcapquartet

[merrybloomwrites]

I'll Be There for You - Platonic Smosh x Reader

Summary: 2020 starts great for reader before covid enters the chat and flips her world upside down. Her friends at Smosh are there to support her through one of the hardest times of her life.

Word Count: 2.5K

CW: covid, quarantine, parent death, panic attack

AN: Was listening to a Smosh Mouth episode and they brought up filming during quarantine and it randomly inspired this story. I lost my own dad during covid and Smosh was absolutely one of my escapes during that time so this story may just be me processing that haha

No romantic relationships for reader in this, just lots of supportive friends.

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From the moment you hear about this new virus, you’re nervous about it. The news stations are trying to keep everything positive, spin it like this is no big deal. But what you see on social media is telling a different story.

You’re not so much worried for yourself as you are for your family. They’re all the way across the country on the east coast while you’re in Los Angeles. And many of your family members have lung issues. While you don’t know much about this coronavirus, it seems to be most harmful to people’s lungs, leaving you to worry. 

It seems crazy to be taking a trip right now, but the threat doesn’t seem to be too bad. Travel is still permitted, and so your group goes ahead with your trip to Australia. You’ve been looking forward to this for months, and try so hard to not allow your anxieties overshadow your excitement. 

It’s a solid group on the trip: Shayne, Courtney, Ian, Damien, Sarah, and Matt Raub. All of you are trying to ignore the increasingly worrisome news and keep things light. You attend two different expos, doing live shows as well as meet and greets with fans. Those bookend the trip, with lots of different activities in the middle, including visits to a couple zoos to learn about local wildlife. 

You hold koalas and snakes, laugh with your friends, and for a little while, you forget all about the bad things that are happening. 

But you can’t hide from it forever. Despite everyone joking about the virus, you can’t help but be afraid. Every day of the trip, more news is revealed, and things look more and more grim. 

Towards the end of the trip you do a couple planned meet and greets at Sydney’s Madame Tussauds. You’re on the verge of a panic attack the whole time, feeling like every person you talk to could be carrying this unpredictable virus. 

Ian picks up on this and pulls you aside during a break.

“You okay?” he asks, concern etched on his face.

“I can’t shake this feeling, like we’re all going to get infected and then bring it back home, and every time a new person comes in the room it’s like another chance for germs to spread. What happens if we get sick? We don’t know anything about this virus, or what it can do to people, and there’s more and more cases everyday-” your rambling cuts off as you gasp for a breath. The panic attack is officially setting in, the room spinning around you as it gets harder to breathe. 

You hear Ian say something, but the ringing in your ears prevents you from understanding him. A moment later Sarah is standing in front of you, catching your eye and encouraging you to breathe with her. After a minute of matching her breaths, you’ve calmed down and gotten through the worst of the panic attack. 

Sarah leads you to the couch, sitting next to you, close enough to be a grounding presence but far enough that you don’t feel closed in. Ian walks over, crouching in front of you and handing you a water bottle. 

“Sorry about that,” you finally say.

“Don’t you dare apologize,” Sarah says. “Your feelings are completely valid.”

Ian nods before saying, “I know we’re all making jokes about this, but I think everyone’s just covering up how scared they are. I’m definitely scared. You’re right to say that there’s so much we don’t know. I’d say don’t worry about all that, but that’s stupid because you’re gonna worry anyway.” 

You laugh at that, feeling much better now knowing that you’re not alone. Ian smiles and places a comforting hand on your knee and you reach out to hold Sarah’s hand as well. The three of you sit for a moment and then Shayne walks in the room saying, “Time to start up again.”

He looks at you guys, sees the redness in your eyes and notices the way the others are comforting you and asks, “Everything okay?”

“Yea, I’m good now,” you answer. “We’ll be right out.”

Shayne nods and walks away. You go to stand but before you can get up Ian says, “You don’t have to go back out there if you’re not comfortable. We can do the rest without you if you need some space.”

“I’ll be fine, but thank you,” you reply. He smiles and gives your leg one last squeeze before standing and giving you a hand up. It’s a nice moment, one where you’re reminded about how wonderful it is to work for Ian. He’s a kind boss, but also like a big brother to you, and you appreciate having him in your life. 

The rest of the time in Australia goes smoothly, and then it’s time to fly home. Sarah and Ian stick by you throughout the long day of travel. You don’t ask them to, but you can tell they’re worried that you’ll get anxious in such a crowded space. Somehow that makes it easier, and you’re able to spend the day joking with your friends rather than panicking. 

You’re exhausted when you get home, saying a rushed goodbye to your friends and heading home.

And then the isolation begins. The world practically shuts down completely as soon as you get back to the states. You go from constantly being around people, to being completely alone. It’s fine at first, you’re exhausted from traveling and this gives you a good excuse to be lazy for a few days. 

You spend a lot of time on the phone with your family, begging them to stay inside the house and stay safe. And they seem to listen, only going out twice for supplies. But apparently that’s all it takes. 

Just over a week after the Australia trip your mom gets sick. It’s obvious right away that it’s covid. For one thing, your mom has worked with children for decades. Her immune system is impeccable, you’ve never seen her get a cold or the flu before. For her to be sick is odd, plus she has all the symptoms, so it’s a no brainer.

And then a few days later, your dad is sick as well. You knew it was inevitable, that once the virus was in the house he was going to get it as well, but hearing it for sure makes your blood run cold. 

He already has a couple of lung issues, and you can’t help but feel like this isn’t going to go well. You hate that you’re stuck on opposite coasts and can’t do anything to help. You call them as much as possible, wanting to stay positive and hearing their voices always helps.

But then your dad gets worse and ends up in the hospital. You finally tell your Smosh friends what is going on. You’d kept it quiet at first, but they picked up that something is wrong. 

You try to continue on like normal, assuring your friends that you’re fine, but they don’t accept that. While they never overstep, you’re often surprised with kind texts or things appearing on your doorstep. 

It’s a particularly bad day. Your dad has just been placed on a ventilator. You get the news while in a zoom meeting, and everyone can tell that something has happened. 

“You okay, Y/N?” Courtney asks. 

You shake your head no and think about what to answer. You could be vague, just say it’s an update about your father and leave it at that. But these are people that care about you, that want to support you. 

“My dad just got put on a ventilator,” you reply. 

“My god, Y/N, I’m so sorry. Did they say anything else?” Shayne says. 

“Apparently the doctors said it’s a preventative measure. Supposed to let his lungs heal. But we’ve all seen the statistics. Most covid patients don’t come off the vent.” 

“If you need to go you can,” Ian says. “Don’t feel like you need to stay on this call.”

“No, that’s okay. I’d rather keep working. Either that or sit in silence in my apartment,” you answer with a shrewd laugh. 

“Alright, well if you need to leave at any time please feel free. No explanation needed, we’ll understand,” Ian says. 

The meeting resumes and you sit quietly while they plan the upcoming Smosh Games schedule. You don’t have any input, and it’s pretty clear you’re not really listening, but you’re comforted by the sound of your friends' voices. 

The zoom call finishes, and you’re left alone with your thoughts. You’re not sure how much time passes, but the sun has moved to shine through a new window as husk begins so it must be a while. 

You’re startled back to reality by a text on your phone. Your heart races, fearing it’s you mom with even worse news. You breathe a sigh of relief when you see it’s from Spencer, his message saying, “Check out your front door.”

Doing as he’d instructed, you see a bag that had been delivered. It’s takeout from chilis, enough food for multiple meals, all your favorites. 

This is just what you needed. Your appetite hasn't been great, but smelling the familiar food has your stomach growling. After sending him a thank you message you dig in. 

Now full of comfort food, you manage to do your normal nightly routine of cleaning up the apartment and taking a shower. You go to bed feeling scared, but supported. 

Three days later, you get the news you’d been dreading. Your moms calls in the morning, saying the doctors think he won’t make it through the day. It’s a Sunday, and you have nothing to distract you. People text, but you leave them unanswered. 

It’s a beautiful day in Los Angeles, and you do the only thing you’re allowed to do: take a walk. 

Losing track of time, you wander through neighborhoods, making sure to keep distance from other people out walking. It pains you to see happy families, people who are making the most out of this pandemic. People whose lives aren’t being drastically changed forever. 

You get back home in the early afternoon. Soon after, your mom calls. You almost ignore it, knowing what she’s going to say but wanting to delay the inevitable. But you know you can’t do that. 

It’s a short conversation, your mother unable to say too much between the tears. 

You hang up feeling numb. It grows dark outside and finally you text Ian, asking for the next day off. 

His response is immediate, expressing his condolences and telling you to take at least the week off. You ask him to send a message to the others, not wanting to have to do it yourself. 

You wrap yourself into a cocoon of blankets, lay in bed, and cry over the loss. 

The next few days you find that you’re exhausted, with random bursts of high energy. You use the energy to respond to your friends' messages, thanking them for reaching out and telling them you’re okay. 

You speak on the phone with Damien for a while a couple days after it happens. While all of your friends are supportive, he’s the only one who’s been through this before. He truly understands what it’s like to lose a father. His experience, his words, everything he has to offer is incredibly comforting to you. And when he says he’ll always be there to listen, you know he’s telling the truth and not just saying what he thinks is the “right thing”. 

And then that Thursday, just a couple days after your dads death, the vlog of your time in Australia is released. 

You get the notification that it’s been posted as you always do, and instead of being excited that a new video is up, it sends you into a breakdown. You’re crying, gasping for breath, and you need someone there with you. 

For the first time since all of this began you cannot be alone. People have been offering to stop by and because it’s been over two weeks since any of you have been around others it’s technically safe. But you always refused, assuring them that you’re fine. 

Now, however, you need people around you. Through tears you find your phone and immediately call Courtney, asking if she and Shayne could come over. She says yes without hesitation and stays on the call while the two of them make their way to your place. 

Needing the comfort of your room you say, “Front door is open. I’ll be in my bedroom when you get here.”

“Just a couple more minutes,” Courtney replies as you climb under the covers. 

“Okay,” you murmur to let her know you heard her. 

As promised she and Shayne enter a few minutes later. Without hesitation Courtney climbs into bed with you, wrapping you up in your arms. You melt into the embrace, sobs ripping through your body. 

When you’ve finally cried yourself out, you pull away and notice Shayne’s no longer in the room. A moment later he walks back in, carrying water, tissues, and your favorite cookies. You smile weakly at him and pat the bed, inviting him to join you and Courtney. 

He sits next to you, and you’re effectively sandwiched between the two of them. It’s comforting to be surrounded by two of your best friends. You’d always been close with them, and we’re happy that nothing changed when they started dating. 

They’re two people who will always have your back, no matter what. They stay with you until the next morning, Shayne leaving temporarily to pick up anything he and Courtney need for the night. 

You hadn’t realized how much you needed to be around people, but it’s clear how much it helps to actually see people and talk to them without a screen. 

Finally, you start accepting people’s invitations to hang out. You make good use of your apartment complex’s patio area so that you can hang out while still social distancing. You don’t often talk about your dad or how you’re doing, but rather about other mundane things. It feels good to talk to friends about something even somewhat normal. 

The other cast members take turns filling in for videos that you’re supposed to appear in. You’d tried going back to business as usual, but found that you couldn’t be as lighthearted and funny as you usually were. Rather than try to fake it, you’d switched to a more behind the scenes role for the time being. 

In May and June, fans start to notice that you aren’t appearing in any videos. Many theories float around, and you decide you’re ready to make the news about your dad public, instead of letting the rumors continue to spread. 

You make a post about your father on Instagram, a picture of the two of you with a caption explaining the loss. Support floods in, from friends, family, and fans alike. 

Though it’s the hardest thing you’ve ever experienced, it’s so nice to know you have such wonderful people who will always have your back.

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AN: Thanks so much for reading! I'm working on two stories for Whumptober, One Spencer x reader and the other Damien x reader!

[tammyjackson50-blog]

Unspoken Attraction\\ S.M

Summary: When your dance partner gets sick right before the biggest competition of the year, you're stuck in a nightmare. Your teacher’s solution? Pair you with the one person you can’t stand. Now you’re forced to rehearse every day with the guy you’ve spent years avoiding. The worst part? He's actually good, and he enjoys it.

~~

The dance studio buzzed with excitement as the upcoming competition was getting close. It was a 2000's hip-hop couple dance, and everyone was eager to prove themselves. Y/n stood with her friends when her phone rang. Looking at the screen, she saw it was her dance partner, Jake.

"Hey, Jake! What's up, my guy?" she answered, "Y/n, just don't kill me, okay? I... I can't do it," Jake's voice was strained, tinged with guilt. "I've tested positive for COVID. I'm really sick and there's no way I'll be ready by next week." Y/n's heart sank "What? Where the hell did you get covid from?? No, Jake, this can't be happening omg, the competition is next week. We were so ready." "I know, I'm so sorry. You need to find someone else, Y/n. There's no other way."

" I hope that you'll get better, except me coming for you in your dreams." He laughs. " I'm glad to know that I have such a good friend like you." She ended the call, her mind racing "Guys, Jake's out. He somehow got COVID in 2024 and can't compete," she said, feeling stressed.

Nearby, Sam Monroe leaned against the wall, surrounded by his group. His eyes was on Y/n, he heard the conversation. They had always been rivals, their competitiveness simmering with unspoken attraction. He walked passed her, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Trouble in paradise, Y/n?" Sam's tone was teasing, but his eyes held a glint of something more. Y/n glared at him, not in the mood for his games "Oh ,not now, Sam." Their dance teacher, Mr. Bradley overheard the exchange and stepped in. "Sam, you know our policy. We help each other out. Y/n needs a partner, and you're one of our best." Sam crossed his arms, feigning indifference. "I don't do couple dances, Mr. Bradley. You know that. I prefer solo or group routines."

Mr. Bradley sighed, clearly frustrated. "Sam, you have the skills, and you know it. Y/n needs you. Step up." Sam looked at Y/n, who was biting her lip in worry. He could sense her desperation and the weight of the competition pressing down on her.

"Fine," he said rolling his eyes. "But only because I don't want our studio to look bad." Y/n looked up, surprised "Wait, really? You're going to partner with me?" Sam shrugged "Looks like it. Don't think this changes anything between us, I'm still going to outdance you." Her competitive spirit flared "Ha, We'll see about that, Monroe." He looked at you with no expression "we'll do it when we'll be alone" and turned around, leaving you annoyed yet somehow relaxed, knowing that you are not out of the competition.

Later that day, as the sun has set, the studio had emptied out, leaving just Y/n and Sam. Neither of them wanted to stay, but they know that they had to practice together. The silence was very awkward

Sam sighed, breaking the quiet "I can't believe that I need to do that... and with you." Y/n shot him a look, "Yeah, well, I didn't ask for this either, Monroe, but thanks, I guess."

They stood in the middle of the dance floor, the studio dimly lit around them. It was their first time being alone together like this...

"Okay, um, this is our song," Y/n said, her voice a bit softer. She walked over to the sound system and pressed play. The beat of a 2000s hip-hop track filled the room. Sam listened, his face unreadable "Classic choice. Guess you have some taste after all."

Y/n rolled her eyes. "Don't get too cocky. We still have to sync up, and that means actually working together." He smirked. “I hope you can catch up with the dance,” Y/n said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Sam rolled his eyes, a smirk on his lips. “Just show me the moves, Y/n, I’ll manage.” Y/n sighed, stepping into the center of the studio. “Alright, let’s start with the basics. This is the routine Jake and I came up with.”

She began to demonstrate the steps, her movements fluid and precise. Sam watched intently, surprisingly focused. He mimicked her moves, catching on quickly. “Not bad, Monroe,” she admitted reluctantly. “But you’re still not hitting the beats right. Watch my feet.” Sam’s eyes followed her every move, his gaze intense. “Got it.” As they continued, Y/n couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he picked up the dance. It irritated her that he was good at everything, even when he pretended not to care. He was Sam Monroe, after all, always cocky and insufferable.

Then came the part of the routine that made Y/n a bit uncomfy. It was a move that required them to get close. “Okay, this next part is... a bit different,” she said, “We have to be really in sync, just... follow my lead.”

She stepped closer to him, feeling his warmth. Their bodies moved together, the music guiding them. As their hips swayed and their chests brushed against each other, the air between them grew thick with unspoken tension. It was hard to focus on the steps when her heart was racing. Sam’s hands gripped her waist, pulling her slightly closer. His breath was hot against her ear. “Like this?” Y/n swallowed hard, trying to keep her composure. “Y-Yeah, just like that.”

The moment felt electric, a dance of challenge and desire. Their eyes met, and for a brief second, it was as if the rivalry had melted away, leaving only the raw attraction between them. Just then, the moment was interrupted by a knock on the door. her friend, Clara, poked her head in. “Hey, I forgot my water bottle.” Y/n stepped back quickly, her face flushed. “It’s over there on the bench.”

Clara grabbed her bottle, glancing curiously between them. “Thanks.. See you tomorrow.”

As the door closed behind her, Y/n and Sam stood there, the tension still lingering but now mixed with a hint of awkwardness. “We should call it a night,” Y/n said, avoiding his gaze. “We’ve covered enough for today.” Sam nodded, “Sure, same time tomorrow?” “Yeah,” she replied, already heading for the door. “Same time.”

As you hurried towards the bus station, your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. "What the fuck was that?" You muttered under your breath, replaying the intense practice session with Sam over and over in your head. Why did Mr. Bradley have to pair us up? I could have found another partner......... I think.

Lost in thoughts, you didn't notice the car pulling up beside you until the window rolled down, revealing Sam's smirking face. "Need a ride?" he asked casually, as if the charged atmosphere from earlier hadn't existed at all. "No thanks, Sam," you replied firmly,as you walked towards the bus station He drove slowly beside you, "Are you sure? I can take you home," he offered. I couldn't help but laugh, though there was a hint of disbelief in it. "I'm good, Sam," I said, shaking my head slightly. He matched my laughter with a smirk, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer before he drove away, leaving me with a mix of relief and a bit of confusion.

---- Later that night, as I lay in bed, I remembered that I had promised to show Sam a video of one of my recent practices with Jake. I found the video on my phone and sent it to him, along with a quick message.

-"Forgot to show you this earlier, this is what the dance is supposed to look like"

I was already ready to turn off my phone and go to sleep, but to my surprise, Sam replied almost immediately.

-"Watching it now. Let's see if you and Jake are really that good"

A moment later, another message popped up.

-"Okay, not bad. You two look pretty comfortable together"

um

-"Thanks, I guess? you know, Jake and I have been dancing for a long time now"

-"That part where you guys get really close... looks a bit too comfortable if you ask me"

-"'It's called chemistry, Monroe. Something you might want to work on"

-"Oh, I have chemistry, Y/n. Just not with everyone."

-"Maybe you should try being less cocky and more focused then."

-"Maybe I just need the right partner" ouch "Too bad you and Jake were so cozy. Wonder if you'll miss him during that part".

I rolled my eyes, feeling the irritation bubbling up again.

-"We’re just dancing, Sam. Not everything has to be a big deal"

-"Sure, sure. Just seemed like you were enjoying it a bit too much. Can you handle the same with me?"

His comment made my heart skip a beat, and I quickly typed back.

-"I can handle anything, Monroe,just try to keep up."

-"Challenge accepted, Goodnight, Y/n"

-"Goodnight, Sam."

You were really annoyed by him. As if dealing with Sam Monroe in person wasn't enough, now he was getting under your skin through text messages too. You couldn't deny there was something about his cocky attitude that got to you, but you refused to let it show. With a sigh, you turned off your phone and tried to focus on getting some sleep.

-----

The next day, you arrived at the studio and sat down with your friends, glancing around the room. Sam was nowhere to be seen.

"Is he serious?" you muttered under your breath, pulling out your phone. You quickly typed a message to him.

-"Where are you? We're supposed to be practicing."

You tapped your foot impatiently, waiting for a response. A few minutes later, your phone buzzed.

-"Relax, I'm on my way. Traffic."

You rolled your eyes, not buying his excuse.

-"Traffic, huh? Sure you're not just trying to avoid practice?"

~"Why would I do that? I enjoy our little sessions."

-"Well, hurry up. We don’t have all day."

~"Don't worry, I won't leave you hanging."

You put your phone away, still irritated but trying to focus on the routine. Your friends were doing their thing, but your mind was elsewhere, finally, the studio door opened, and Sam walked in, looking as relaxed as ever.

"Morning," he greeted casually, his eyes meeting yours with a familiar glint of mischief. "You're late," you shot back, crossing your arms. "Traffic, remember?" he said with a smirk. "Let's get to work."

It going to be another interesting day.

You played the music and started practicing, diving straight into the routine. The energy of the hip-hop beat drove your movements, pushing you both to sync up despite the tension. You approached the part of the dance you hadn’t practiced yesterday a challenging sequence that required trust and coordination.

“Alright, this is the part where I run and jump into your arms,” you said, already anticipating Sam’s cocky response. “Then I slide under you, between your legs, and get up smoothly. After that, you need to hold my leg around your thigh.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, his signature smirk appearing. “Sounds easy enough. Ready when you are.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath. “I know it's very tempting for you not to catch me when I jump, but please, for the sake of the dance, just do it right.”

He chuckled. “I got you, Y/n. Don’t worry.”

The music built up, and you took off, running towards him. With a leap, you trusted Sam to catch you, and to your surprise, he did. You slid under him, moving smoothly between his legs, and then rose gracefully, positioning your leg for him to hold. His hands found their place around your thigh, holding you firmly. The last moment of the dance, your bodies locked in a pose that was both intense and intimate. You could feel his breath, steady and controlled, as he held you in place.

“Not bad, Monroe,” you said, slightly breathless. “Thanks,” he replied, his voice low “You’re not too shabby yourself.” You both stayed in that position for a beat longer than necessary, the music fading out. The air between you was charged, the dance pushing you closer both physically and emotionally.

Finally, you stepped back.

“Let’s run it again,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “Okay” Sam replied, his smirk back in place. “Just don’t expect me to always be this nice.” "That's the last thing I expected from you, Monroe" I quipped, feeling a mix of surprise and amusement as we ran through the jump sequence again. This time, when I tried to move away at the end of the routine, Sam didn't release my leg,his grip was firm, teasingly defiant. As his smirk widened, clearly enjoying the moment, I decided to play along. In response to his playful teasing and to assert a bit of control, I lightly tapped his stomach with my knee. It was enough to catch him off guard, making him release his hold with a surprised laugh.

"Touché," Sam chuckled, rubbing his stomach lightly where I had nudged him. "Didn't know you had it in you." I shrugged nonchalantly, masking the flicker of satisfaction at having caught him off balance. "You should know better than annoy me, Monroe."

He grinned, the tension between us easing into a more playful banter. "Noted. But admit it, Y/n, you enjoyed that."

I rolled my eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a direct answer. "Let's just focus on getting this routine right, okay?"

Sam nodded, the competitive glint returning to his eyes. "Deal. But just so you know, I'm not going easy on you." "Good," I replied, a challenge in my tone.

"I wouldn't want it any other way."

--

A few hours later, you and Sam were both exhausted and drenched in sweat. Your shirt clung to your body, and though you didn't notice, Sam's gaze lingered a bit longer, an unfamiliar feeling stirring within him.

"Officer, can I go home already? I'm sick," Sam joked, his voice dripping with mock desperation. You laughed, rolling your eyes. "Just one more time, Monroe. We need to nail this."

He groaned playfully, but there was a hint of admiration in his eyes. "Alright, one more time. But after this, I'm taking a break."

You both took your positions, the music starting up again. Despite the fatigue, you moved through the routine with a renewed sense of purpose. When you reached the jump, Sam caught you effortlessly, and you slid under him smoothly.

As you rose and positioned your leg for him to hold, there was a brief moment where your eyes met. The intensity in his gaze caught you off guard, but you quickly refocused on the dance. His grip on your thigh was firm yet gentle, and you could feel the heat radiating between you two.

When the music faded out, you both stood there, catching your breath. "See? That wasn't so bad," you said, trying to keep your tone light. Sam nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, you did alright." You rolled your eyes, but couldn't suppress a grin. "Get some rest, Monroe. We'll pick this up tomorrow."

"Sure thing, Y/n," he replied, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned to grab his stuff.

-Yo yo, I think that I stared writing this 3 months ago, what do you think?

[ranhaitanisgf]

could i request headcanons for rindou looking after a fem reader who is recovering from getting sick (ie: more tired than normal, kinda grumpy, still dealing w headaches/congestion or more generic symptoms) ? i am recovering from COVID and i need rindou to look after me so bad LOLL

sickness begone!!

synopsis: how would rindou act with an s/o recovering from sickness?

☆ a/n ˎˊ˗ hiii thank you for requesting!! :3 i was wanting to make this a bit longer but i couldn't think of anything else D: i hope it's alright and that everyone enjoys !! xoxo [just as a note, i unintentionally didn't end up using any gendered specifications, so this is gender neutral! i hope you dont mind ╥﹏╥]

☆ characters ˎˊ˗ rindou haitani x g/n!reader

☆ wc ˎˊ˗ 1.4k+

masterlist

❥ rindou is the number one complainer. he isn’t complaining about having to take care of you, no, he’s complaining about how stupid you are for getting sick. it’s an extremely annoying thing to hear when you’re already not feeling well, but it’s his own way of showing that he cares about you!

“how did you even get this sick? you need to take better care of yourself.”  “how ‘m i supposed to know…” “you need to be more careful.” “yep.”  “are you listening to me?” “just give me the damn glass of water.”

❥ he’s actually quite unsure of how to take care of someone who is ill, so he ends up calling his brother for help, asking what he’s supposed to do, (‘aniki, they're burning up, what do i do?’ ‘you don’t know what to do when someone’s sick? you don’t know anything at all?’ ‘i’m hanging up.’ ‘no, no, ‘m sorry, i’ll help you.’). 

❥ when he gets the basic rundown from ran and gets all the supplies he needs, he does his best to try and make you feel better! he doesn’t really say anything the whole time, just squinting at the directions on all the little packages, muttering about how ‘these words are too damn small…’. 

❥ he’s surprisingly soft though, his worry for you taking over his usual snarkiness. he’ll gently brush your hair out of your face and will periodically wipe any sweat away from your face with a damp cloth, his eyebrows furrowed with worry. he’ll stay by your bedside for almost the whole time you are there, watching over you and making sure that everything is alright, (he also insists on helping you walking to the bathroom or kitchen even if you can walk completely fine). 

❥ does not care if you bitch and moan about the bitter taste of the medicine. you will be taking it, no matter what. 

❥ he makes sure to check your temperature regularly, letting out an annoys tsk when he notices that your temperature is still high, (might curse out whatever virus that is tormenting your body at the moment).

❥ his snarkiness immediately comes back when you start to get better, though it comes in the form of nagging like an old grandma. 

“hey, why’re you going out?”  “‘m going to get decongestant.”  “stupid, don’t go by yourself. stay here, i’ll go.” 

❥ he just does it because he cares, so don’t get too annoyed with him!

❥ he secretly compares you to a lazy cat when he sees you lounging around your apartment, sprawled out all over the sofa or even just on the floor, (of course, he will never voice this, but he thinks it's rather cute). sometimes if you’ve ended up falling asleep there, he will snap a few pictures because he thinks you’re absolutely adorable!

❥ i think that rindou knows what it’s like to get bad headaches since having bad vision can sometimes cause them, so he understands what you’re going through when you complain of having a pounding pain in your temples. without any sort of explanation, he’ll tell you to lay down with him in bed or on your couch and he’ll gently massage your temples, doing his best to help ease your pain, (if you try to tease him or bring it up later, he will pretend like he has no idea what you’re talking about). 

❥ when you snap at him while you’re recovering, he’ll either completely ignore you or will call you an idiot and then will continue whatever he was doing. either way, he won’t ever get upset with you and he won’t snap back either since he knows that you’re not really in your right mind. 

❥ rindou likes to sleep, (not as much as ran) but he will stay up for however long you can’t sleep for whatever reason there may be, whether it’s congestion, a headache, or any other pains in your body. he’ll carefully smooth his hand over your forehead to get rid of any sweat and will hold you close to him for comfort, gently rubbing his hand in circles on your back until you fall asleep, (if you say a word about it, he will once again pretend like it didn’t happen. he is the biggest tsundere). 

❥ he does not know how to cook, but he will try his damndest to make you some good meals so that you don’t have to cook. every time you try to help him he will roll his eyes and tell you to go back to bed, ‘don’t worry, i’ve got this’, (he does not got this). he’s on the phone with ran the whole time, which is odd because he doesn’t know how to cook either. 

“oh…wow! it looks great!” “why did you pause?”  “uh, no reason…!” 

❥ it’s the thought that counts…?

❥ you guys end up ordering takeout, and you have to comfort rindou for the whole night that you were very appreciative that he tried to cook for you, (he’s not outwardly upset, but it’s easy to tell that he’s sulking). 

❥ you know those people who tell you to drink water whenever you complain about something? that’s rindou while you’re recovering. your head hurts? did you drink water? your stomach is achey? did you drink water? you’re really dizzy? did you drink water? it’s not even like he knows that water will fix any of those things, he just read an article on how sick people should have a lot of fluids, so he’s constantly shoving water and electrolyte drinks in your face. 

❥ binge watching is the number one activity to do while you’re sick, so rindou will watch any show you want to watch with you. he doesn’t exactly say why, but it’s because he doesn’t want you to feel like he’s leaving you alone, especially while you’re sick, (it doesn’t really make sense to anybody but him). 

“wait, hold on. so mary was dating mark but then she cheated on him with kendall?”  “right?! it’s so crazy!!” 

❥ he somehow gets into the crazy reality tv shows you watched because of your boredom. 

❥ going back to this note, he’s not just by your side 24/7 while you’re sick, but also while you’re recovering. it’s completely irrational, but he has this fear that you’re suddenly going to collapse and get even sicker than you were before if he’s not there, so he will not let you leave his sight, (unless he’s going to the store to get something for you). 

❥ if you want something, while you’re recovering is the time to ask for it! rindou is especially weak to your requests, and even more so when you’re feeling unwell, so if you ask him to buy you five pints of ice cream, he’ll end up buying ten, (he enjoys seeing the grin on your face, so he thinks it’s worth it). 

❥ he does not care if you’re sick or still recovering, he will keep kissing you, and no, he doesn’t care if he gets sick. why should he let some stupid virus dictate whether or not he can kiss you? he might not seem like it, but he lives off of the affection that he gets from you, so he can’t even imagine not being able to kiss you. 

❥ no matter the length of your hair, he will braid it. it’s a strange thing, and he doesn’t have an answer for you when you ask him what he’s doing. all he says is, ‘...keeps it out of your face…’, (he only knows how to braid because of ran). 

❥ will walk by and toss a blanket on you if you don’t have one on already. it’s almost like he’s attacking you with blankets, but he just says that ‘you need to stay warm’. 

❥ when you finally get better, he’s so relieved! he will only admit it to you, (and he will only say it once) but he was actually really worried about you. he’s not ever worried about your safety when you’re with him and his brother because he knows that they can fight off anybody who tries to hurt you, but sickness isn’t something that he can fight, so he wasn’t exactly sure what to do with himself. all he could do was hope and pray that you would get better, and he absolutely hated it. 

❥ he takes you out to your favorite restaurant and spoils you rotten when you’re back to your normal self <3

[amomentsescape]

eric draven taking care of a sick reader maybe? 🫣 covid's kicking my ass rn

Eric Taking Care of Sick! Reader

Eric Draven x Reader

A/N: I'm sorry to hear! I hope you feel better soon :)

You truly couldn't have asked for a better person to take care of you

Will give up a couple nights as the city's vigilante in order to watch over you

Will get you plenty of medicine, cough drops, tea, and even a heating pad to help with the body aches

He actually has his own homemade soup recipe for moments like this that you LOVE

Any time you go into a coughing fit, he'll quickly sit beside you and rub your back

When you have trouble falling asleep, Eric is there laying beside you, rubbing your scalp and singing a gentle tune in your ear

He'll stay up with you all night if he has to

Will cuddle you whenever you want, and will happily give you some space if you're feeling overheated

Will only use candles and nightlights to prevent worsening your headache

If you decide you want ice cream at 1 in the morning, he's going to get you ice cream

Just be prepared to mostly be bedridden

The moment you get up to try and do anything he finds too "extraneous," he's ushering you back into bed

"I can get it for you, don't worry"

Plenty of kisses and affection as well

He can't really get sick

But even if he could, he would not care in the slightest

Making sure you're happy and comfortable is his number one priority

Anything else comes second in his eyes

[doumadono]

hey! i dont know if this counts as an emergency request or not.😭🫶

tw: puke, sickness in general

i have a really horrible flu right now. ive even reached a fever of 104😵‍💫. ive been unable to keep anything down, not even liquids. my left lung hurts to even move, and i have a horrible cough and throat achs. are you able to do a little izuku midoriya x f!reader where f!reader is sick w/ what i described.? love ya!🫶🫶

A/N: it's important to note that in cases of severe illness or medical emergency, it's best to seek immediate assistance from a medical professional. I experienced similar symptoms recently, and it turned out that I had COVID, so perhaps you should consider getting tested

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST

When Izuku sees you struggling with the flu symptoms, his heart aches for you. He's deeply concerned about your well-being and is determined to do everything he can to help you feel better.

As you cough and wince from the pain in your chest, Izuku gently rubs your back, trying to provide some comfort. He assures you that he's there for you and that you're not alone in this.

Seeing you unable to keep anything down, Izuku encourages you to try small sips of water and offers to moisten your lips with a damp cloth to help ease your discomfort. Izuku also prepares a simple and nourishing broth, carefully feeding you small spoonfuls, all the while offering encouraging words. "I know it's tough, but you need to keep your strength up. You're doing great."

He notices the feverish flush on your cheeks and immediately gets a cool compress to your forehead to help bring down your temperature, all the while expressing his worry for you.

When you shiver from the fever, Izuku wraps a warm blanket around you and sits close, gently rubbing your arms to help bring you some comfort. "I'll keep you warm, babe."

When you express how much your throat aches, Izuku brews a soothing herbal tea and carefully helps you take small sips, making sure it's not too hot.

Izuku carefully organizes your medication, setting reminders and ensuring you take each dose at the right time. "It's important to stay on top of your medication schedule. I've set up reminders for you, and I'll be here to help you with each dose."

He encourages you to rest, assuring you that he'll handle everything and that your well-being is the top priority. "You just focus on getting better. I'll take care of everything else."

As you struggle to catch your breath after a severe coughing fit, Deku gently takes your hand and rubs its top, whispering, "Just focus on the sound of my voice. You're going to be okay."

He sits beside you, softly talking about anything and everything to distract you from the discomfort, sharing stories about his day at hero work or recalling a funny memory to bring a smile to your face.

Izuku notices you're experiencing chest aches and remembers how you often find comfort using a heating pad during your period. He gently suggests, "I remember how the heating pad helps you during your period. Maybe it could provide some relief for your chest aches too. Would you like me to get it for you?"

As you struggle with the symptoms, Izuku remains by your side, holding your hand and offering words of encouragement, reminding you of your strength and resilience.

Izuku is attentive to your needs, making sure you have blankets, a comfortable pillow, and anything else that might provide relief, all the while expressing his unwavering support and care.