#sickfic
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It began with a sneeze.
Lena’s entire body tensed, pain wracking her sinuses, and she tried to tamp it down and swallow it. There was a room full of investors, and she paused mid-presentation. She held up a protesting hand, signaling that she needed no help, and waved off her assistants. Finally the feeling subsided and she soldiered on, accidentally repeating part of the presentation. It didn’t matter, it was just a formality.
After, she was sitting alone in her office and she did sneeze this time, hard, into a silk handkerchief. A dull ache had settled into her bones and she felt droopy, tired. Still, she had work to do. Not the work she wanted to do. Not running the company, not strategizing. Not inventing or innovating. It was menial. It was assigned. She worked for her brother.
It was his pretty revenge, because Lena shot him two times in the chest. Then a bunch of very strange shit happened and Lena suddenly found herself in an entirely different world where Lex had never died, even though they both remembered it. A hellish nightmare world where Lillian was a philanthropist and Kara and all her friends worked more or less for Lex, keeping aliens in check.
Lena couldn’t go to her best friend for help, because her best friend had betrayed her. Lena almost wished she’d been erased when the multiverse collapsed, replaced by a copy of herself who’d never felt this agony.
There was a truth she would never admit, even to herself.
She’d feel better if Kara was here.
The days dragged on and so did her cold. Except, it wasn’t a cold. On the third day she woke to a high fever, feeling a little wobbly when she forced herself out of bed. Her sinuses burned and she had to breathe through her mouth. When she took her temperature, it was elevated, close to being dangerous. Every muscle and joint on her body ached and the sight of food made her retch involuntarily.
Lena had the goddamn flu.
She did something she’d never done: by a curt email, she informed her staff that she was ill and would not be in the office today. Instead, she rummaged through her closet, her breath catching on a familiar sweatshirt.
It was a Midvale High School Mathletes sweater. It was Kara’s, but Lena knew with a certainty that Kara had not been in Lena’s penthouse since It Happened. There was no way for this to get here but…
She stifled a sob. This world had its own Lena, one whose life she’d appropriated or merged with or God knows what, and that Lena Kara’s clothes in her home. Lena kept stumbling across them and it hurt more every time.
Had they been happy, before? Kara must have spent the night. They must have been close. Lena had been close with her Kara; they hung out and Kara had slept over a few times but they weren’t really on your-clothes-in-my-closet terms. Had that been what happened here? Did they share the bed? Were they…
Did they…
Lena put it on, felt it shelter her body. She put in two pairs of leggings and hoped her laptop would warm her. She curled with it on the couch, and got exactly nothing done. After three hours she closed the computer and flipped channels until she found the old friend of the seriously ill and the chronically unemployed: reruns.
Curling on one end of the couch, she laid her head to rest on the arm and her eyes slid closed.
It seemed that as soon as she did, she opened them again. Her head was throbbing. She tried to push herself up, but it was too great an effort and she flopped down again. Her throat was dry and sticky, and unable to breathe through her nose, air came in reedy wheezes. Swallowing only made it worse, and she felt a rising panic.
Something beyond sleep, thick and heavy, was dragging her down, even as she struggled.
A chill night breeze rolled over her, and she shivered explosively.
"Easy now. I've got you."
Powerful arms lifted her limp body and carried her. Gently, Lena was laid on her bed and a blanket thrown over her.
She opened her eyes. Kara sat her up, cradling her in one arm as she held a glass in another, so Lena could drink. She let the cool water wet her throat and did her best to breathe again. Gently, Kara lowered her back down to rest and folded a cool, damp cloth on her forehead. Lena sighed in relief.
“Get out. Don’t want you here.”
“I’m sorry,” Kara whispered. “I can’t leave you alone like this. I’ll be right back.”
She was indeed right back, Supergirl walking into Lena’s budoir carrying a drug store bag full of medicine. She sat Lena up again and administered the foul tasting stuff over Lena’s protests, then shut off the lights.
Lena tried to roll on her side. It didn’t go well.
Kara knelt and slipped out of her boots. Then, she undid one side, then the other, and unclasped her cape from her shoulders. She then swept it over Lena and tucked it around her gently.
“Kara,” Lena muttered.
“Hush. It’s a blanket. It’ll keep you warm.”
Lena wasn’t sure what happened next, if she dreamed it or if it was real, but she felt the bed shift as Kara climbed aboard and laid down beside her.
Eventually, she woke up again. Kara was tucked against her back, one arm thrown protectively over Lena’s side, resting on her blanket cocoon. Kara snored lightly, lying on the bed so that her chin rested on the crown of Lena’s head.
Kara noticed she’d stirred and silently stood, offering Lena her next dose of syrupy, nasty medicine. She accepted it just as silently and laid back down to sleep.
The cycle continued. Day came. Kara didn’t leave her. She drew the curtains and laid on the bed beside Lena, never speaking, never making any demands.
Finally Lena was well enough to roll over and face her.
“Why are you here?”
“I heard Gillian’s Island coming from your living room and thought you must be in danger.”
Lena snorted in spite of herself.
Kara softened. Her big blue eyes, eyes that could launch a thousand ships, carried such a weight of sorrow that Lena felt a surge of pain and regret in her heart, wondering why in the hell they were feuding. No. She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t just…
“I’m sorry.”
Lena tucked herself into the blankets. She wanted to roll over, to turn away, to stop this before she did something she would regret later.
“I keep finding your things in my place,” Kara murmured. “It makes me wonder if it was different here. If we were different. What if I’d made other choices. If I’d been honest with you. Bolder.”
“You weren’t,” said Lena. “You aren’t. That’s the way it is. That door was closed.”
“When I landed on your balcony, it was open.”
“A mistake I won’t repeat. Careless. Thank you for helping me, but I didn’t need it. I don’t need you.”
Kara closed her eyes and sighed.
“I hate doing this.”
“Doing what?”
“You’re lying.”
Lena jerked back, as much as her aching body would allow, anyway.
“How do you know?”
It didn’t hit Lena that she hadn’t offered a denial, at least not until later.
“Easy,” Kara smiled. “I cheat. Skin conductivity and moisture levels. Heat bloom on your skin. Pulse. Pupil dilation. Breathing patterns.”
“I have the flu. That’s why.”
Kara frowned.
“You’re wearing my sweater.”
“It’s not yours. It’s hers. The lives we stole.”
Kara shook her head. “That’s not what he did. Your brother created this world to live out his fantasies and make me suffer. That’s why your things are at my place and mine at yours. It’s showing us the life we should have had,” a tear shone on Kara’s cheek, “had I not been a fuckup and a coward. If I’d trusted you.”
Lena choked back a small sob, and started to cough violently.
Without a word, Kara gathered her up and rested Lena’s head on her shoulder, walling her up in those beefy, protective arms of hers. Lena allowed it, curling her fingers against the twitching muscles of Kara’s back.
Lena wanted to pull away…
No. That was a lie, a miserable fucking lie. She didn’t want to pull back. She didn’t want to fight. She thought she had to, that she needed to.
“Don’t cry,” Kara said, tenderly brushing a tear from Lena’s cheek. “I know you’re furious with me. I know things are bad. I know your brother has power over us. It’ll get better. I won’t let him hurt you. I won’t let anyone hurt you. I promise.”
“You already hurt me.”
“I know,” Kara whimpered, her voice wobbling. “I’m sorry, Lena. I’ve never been more sorry about anything in my entire life. I wake up every day praying I can find some way to take it back."
"You can't."
Kara tensed.
"Maybe you don't have to," said Lena.
Kara's breath caught. She lowered Lena to the bed, and this time wrapped them in the blankets together. She was so warm.
"I've got you."
Blessedly, Lena slept.
Each time she woke, she felt better. Eventually, she was well enough for Kara to leave the bed. A few minutes later, Kara came back, and she brought breakfast. Her appetite back, Lena dug in, enjoying the tea Kara brought.
Kara took the tray and plates when she was done.
"You look a lot better."
Lena nodded. "Ah, yes, thank you."
Silence. There was a heavy pause, and then Kara sat down beside her on the bed.
"I wish I'd been brave before."
Lena looked at her, really looked at her, this enchanting vision looking at Lena like she hung all the stars in the sky, her eyes so full of longing that Lena felt she might fall into them forever.
"What would you do if you were brave?"
"This."
Warm fingers curled around Lena's chin. Kara leaned in, and Lena felt it happen even before their lips touched. When they did, it was electric. Lena felt the world spinning. Kara caught her and lowered her to the bed.
"I don't care about multiverses and cosmic entities and your evil brother. No matter what they throw at me, I will always find my way back to you. If you want me."
Lena pulled her down into another kiss, and that was her answer.
#supercorp#supergirl fanfiction#supergirl#supercorp fanfic#lena luthor#kara danvers#kara x lena#karlena#supergirl fanfic#ficlet#kisscorp#first supercorp kiss#yet another love confession#yet another first kiss#apologycorp#make up sexcorp#supercorp hurt/comfort#hurt/comfort#sickfic
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Hii!! Been a fan of your of your stuff for a while now, could I please request Nat x reader with maybe Nat coming back home from a mission sick or something? using prompts: "Could you pass me a tissue, please?" + “I think I caught something. My head is pounding." + “Let me fuss over you."
Thanks!!
Healing Hours
〖Summary: Natasha returns early from a mission with a bad case of the flu.〗
〖Word Count: 1.3k〗
〖Pairing: Sick Natasha x R〗
〖Notes: I hope you all enjoy this!〗
You sighed and slammed your book shut, unable to on the words on the page. Natasha was supposed to be back from her mission in two days and you were a mixture of excited and nervous. She had been radio silent for days, only sending messages concerning the mission.
That meant no sweet texts to you, only communication with Cap and Tony.
It was standard for a mission like this, she was in a potentially dangerous situation and to minimize any danger they minimized contact. Even though you understood it didn’t mean you had to like it. You had continued to train while she was away, the physical act of hitting something distracting you from your anxiety. If you could keep your energy up you could keep the emotions at bay.
With a frustrated groan you pulled out your laptop, resigning yourself to some YouTube cat compilations. Those usually held your attention, and it helped that cats were adorable. Maybe you could convince Tony to let you have a cat, if you laid out a good enough argument he might let you.
For a while you let yourself be captured by the videos moving across the screen, watching the pixelated cats fall off of things only to get up unharmed, attack humans, and be afraid of toasters. You were pulled out of your feline trance by a slight jiggle of your doorknob.
You looked up from your laptop, staring at the door handle and reaching for your weapon. No one was supposed to come into your room, and you had strict rules about knocking before opening the door. You grasped the smooth handle of the knife under your pillow, tensing your body in preparation for a fight.
There were a million thoughts swirling through your mind, how had someone gotten into the tower? Why hadn’t FRIDAY alerted you? Were the others safe?
A dark silhouette appeared in the doorway, and you threw your knife, the blade sinking into the wood of the door frame beside the person's head. It was a warning shot, you didn’t miss. Your goal was to scare the person off to avoid an altercation that you didn’t want to get into.
“Jesus Y/n, what the fuck was that?” A raspy voice asked, someone flicked on the light illuminating a very grumpy-looking Natasha. She walked into the room and threw her toolbelt onto the dresser, being much less careful than she usually was. She loved that belt; it had saved her life many times and she always handled it with care.
“You fucking scared me! You’re supposed to be in Latvia, not breaking into my bedroom!” You shot back, lowering yourself against the headboard, the tension leaving your body. The adrenaline coursing through your veins began to calm down, slowing your rapid heartbeat.
“And you’re supposed to be asleep, it's 2:00 in the morning.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes.
“Like you're any better,” Your words trailed off as a sharp sneeze cut through the room, leaving Natasha hunched over and sniffing.
“Why are you back early?” Suspicion laced your words as you took in her disheveled appearance. When she was in uniform, she went to extensive efforts to make herself look professional even in a more relaxed setting.
This time her clothes were slightly wrinkled, and her hair was a mess. You didn’t expect her to look picture-perfect after coming back from a mission, but she did try to make herself look stoic coming home to impress the men. She turned to face you, revealing an unnatural flush to her cheeks and red-chapped nostrils, the telltale signs of the flu.
“I think I caught something; my head is pounding. Steve pulled me, decided I wasn’t healthy enough to be in the field. He threatened to come and get me himself.” She mumbled, sniffling again. She rubbed her nose against her sleeve and coughed into the air.
You smiled at the idea, picturing her arguing with Steve who would seriously come and get her if he felt the need.
“Okay love, go get showered and I’ll get some supplies. Do you think you’ll be okay to do it by yourself?” You asked, concerned that she might fall over if left alone. Natasha rolled her eyes, wincing at the motion. She shook her head slightly as if to clear it then nodded.
“I’ll be fine. Just want to get it over with, then sleep.”
“Yeah, I bet you do. It’ll feel really good I promise.” When you heard the shower running you climbed out of bed, getting to work. You rifled through the drawers of your bedside table and pulled out a bottle of Nyquil alongside a thermometer, a box of tissues, and a bag of cough drops, all things left over from the last time you’d gotten sick.
Next, you tiptoed into the kitchen and got a glass of water and one of juice, not wanting to make tea until Natasha asked for it. She rarely drank it and you knew she didn’t like it but you’d be happy if she consumed any fluids.
When you returned to your room you were surprised to find your shivering girlfriend curled up in the bed, her wet hair splayed out over the pillow. You’d only been gone for ten minutes tops, you hadn’t expected her to have showered so quickly.
“Did you enjoy your shower?” You asked, setting the glasses of water and juice on the small table by her side of the bed. She shrugged and sniffled thickly, rubbing her fist against her red nose.
“Could you pass me a tissue please?” Her voice was so stuffy, poor thing sounded awful. And she didn’t look much better, not that you would tell her that. You grabbed a tissue from the already prepared box and pressed it into her hand, turning a way to simulate privacy as she blew her nose weakly.
“Oh, my sweet Natty, you really don’t feel well do you…” You muttered, more to yourself than to her. Natasha nodded and turned to look at you with a pout set on her chapped lips. Barely three seconds later her gaze unfocused and she snapped forward with a rough sneeze that she didn’t have time to cover.
“Okay well that wet hair isn’t going to help. Sit up for me, take some medicine, and I’ll dry your hair while we watch a movie.” The redhead did what you instructed, lifting herself onto the pillows with a wheezy sigh.
You poured out a dose of the medication and watched her drink it, making sure that she got all of it. The gulp of “grape” flavored goop was quickly followed by half a glass of juice. You were internally pleased with the amount of juice she had just willingly drank, usually keeping her hydrated was a chore.
“Get comfy and pick a movie, I’ll grab the hair dryer.” She settled on Jaws for reasons that you couldn’t explain. You knew she loved it but you didn’t exactly consider it a good sick day movie. It didn’t matter, she already looked half asleep. You doubted she’d make it through the first act even with the sound of the hair dryer.
“C’mere baby, let me fuss over you.” You climbed into bed and pulled her into your lap, positioning her so that she was laying back against you with her head on your chest. Just as you’d predicted it didn’t take long for her eyes to start drooping, the sound and warmth of the hair dryer seemed to be lulling her to sleep.
“M’sorry for getting sick.” She mumbled, a huge yawn escaping her lips. You rubbed her shoulder and pulled the blankets up around her, making sure that she was comfortable.
“No apologizes necessary Nat. You just relax, I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
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#sickfic#fanfiction#sick fanfiction#marvel sickfic#fever whump#natasha x y/n#natasha x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha x you#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#sick fanfic#natasha romanov#mcu sickfic#sick character#fluff#sick fic#avengers sickfic
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It's that time again, friends! The mods have assembled a new list of fun prompts for the upcoming Sicktember season. As always, there will be 30 prompts and 5 Alternative Prompts.
We will use polls again this year to allow you some say in two of the prompts. The first one will be posted over the next few days The second will be posted mid-May.
The official September 2024 Prompt list will be posted on Saturday, June 15th and we can't wait to share it with you!
#sicktember#sicktember 2024#prompts#prompt list#coming soon#sick fic#sick character#care#caretakers#caregivers#sick#illness#writing event#writing prompts#sickfic prompts#fanfiction#whump#hurt/comfort#hurt/comfort prompt#sickfic
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Timothee sickfic but you chose whatever sickness
With Female reader plz
Since I just posted a Timothée/Laurie sickfic yesterday, I switched to a sick reader instead.
Stay With Me
C/W: fever, fainting, hospitals
I heard a muffled voice as I came to, like I was underwater. When did I fall asleep? I felt someone shaking my shoulders.
"[incoherent mumbling]...[y/n]...[Y/N]!" The voice became clearer. Timothée's voice. "There you are. Stay with me, baby. Stay with me," I heard him say in a panic. I felt him kiss my forehead. "Oh f*ck, you're burning up."
I blinked and looked around, confused. Why am I in my bedroom floor? When did Timothée get here? I saw the outline of Timothée's form, but I couldn't focus on it. I only knew it was him by the sound of his voice. It sounded like he was calling someone. I didn't want to sleep, but I couldn't stop my eyelids from closing again...so tired...
The next time I woke, I heard the distinct sound of a heart rate monitor. I could smell noxious aroma of disinfectant. Am I in the hospital? Why am I here? The beeping intensified as I became more cognizant - and fearful - of my surroundings. It took a lot of effort to finally get my eyes open. All I could see at first was the harsh fluorescent light above me.
Once I could focus, I looked over and spotted Timothée's head on the bed. His frame was slumped over from his seat next to me. His hand held mine as he slept using his forearm as a pillow. He jumped up from his seat when he felt me stir. I saw the look of sheer relief on his face when he locked eyes with me.
"Oh, [Y/N], baby, you're awake! Oh, thank God, you're awake." Timothée sandwiched my hand between his and kissed it repeatedly. Tears rolled down his cheeks.
"What-" I tried to ask what happened, but my throat was too dry to make more than a raspy sound.
"Shh, shhh, don't strain your voice. Here, let's get you some water." He used one hand to support my head and the other to hold the cup as I took tiny sips from the straw. It felt like I hadn't drank anything in days.
"What happened?" I finally managed to get the words out.
"You didn't answer the door when I came by to pick you up for dinner. I got worried because I hadn't heard from you since we exchanged texts that morning, so I used my key to get in. I found you passed out in your bedroom floor. I have no idea how long you were like that. You-" his voice cracked. "You weren't responsive when I tried to wake you up. When you came to, it wasn't for long. You were feverish, too. I got scared and called 911. They brought you to the hospital."
"Do they know what's wrong with me? How long have I been here?" I had so many questions, but that was all I could muster.
"You've been in and out of consciousness for two days. But even when you were awake, you weren't lucid. They ran tests - you contracted West Nile Virus."
"Two days?! Have YOU been here for two days?" You dropped your head to the pillow. "All of those mosquito bites from the photography walk."
Timothée nodded. "That's what tipped them off to check for WNV first. They asked me about your travel history and habits. They wanted me to stay in the waiting room until they confirmed you didn't have anything contagious, but they relented if I agreed to mask and glove up after I kept bugging the nurses for updates. I didn't want you to wake up alone."
"You hate hospitals," I whimpered.
He half-smiled. "Not as much as I hated the thought of you being alone and scared." He kissed my hand again.
Timothée stayed with me until I was discharged days later, only leaving long enough to go shower and grab some clothes for both of us. He drove me home and helped me to my apartment. He cleaned out my fridge of any expired foods and went shopping to restock it. He waited on me hand and foot and even tucked me into bed. When he acted like he was about to leave, I asked:
"Stay with me, Timmy. Please."
"Always," Timothée whispered as he settled under the covers next to me.
<><><><><>
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Sickfic Vox Ideas
And prompts, I guess.
Vox gets sick- well, the closest thing to it he can be, considering he’s part machine. He’s got a fever so his system is running hot, his body is sore, and he feels sort of sluggish. Most of the effects could be seen on his face. His screen flickers sometimes and is often buffering or loading. There might be small lapses of memory as his sickness progresses and his fever gets worse, due to corrupted files and loss of important data in his system. It’s backed up so he’ll be fine. He might have a few small crashes, displaying a blue screen. Caretaker handles Vox during this time, despite Voxs protests. Vox is a bit stubborn, not wanting to accept help, but becomes a bit clingy and more sweet than normal when he accepts being cared for.
-Pale skin, sweating (static), unfocused eyes
-flushed cheeks (screen), slight glitching
-Lying down/sitting with eyes open, everything blurry, just thinking because he can’t do anything else.
-Being dazed, disoreinted, confused, stressed or afraid.
-From nightmares/fever dreams
-system crash, making him frustrated
-temporary lapse of memory
-Garbled words and incoherent noises
-Shivering, feeling unbearably cold despite his high body temperature
-heat pouring off him in waves that can be felt just from being near him
-hypersensitive to touch, especially when its unexpected. Could startle him or hurt.
-Stumbling around, moving sluggishly
-losing his train of thought, trailing off midsentence
-Constantly clinging to caretaker because everything hurts, he’s miserable, and he doesn't know what to do with himself.
-having to convince/coerce him into take his meds
-Whining, curled up in bed, not wanting to move and swaddled in blankets.
-Him wandering around sometimes and making a bed for himself in whatever the warmest room in the house happens to be. (Cat behavior tbh)
-whispering sweet nothings as he falls asleep/as you cuddle because he can’t sleep (or he just had a nightmare) and is uneasy
-placing a hand on his forehead to check his temperature only to remember that doesn’t work because it’s a TV (then touching his arm or shoulder or something instead)
-extra pillows, blankets, water and a bucket at the ready
-cooking his favorite soup (or comfort food)
-finding something to distract him from pain (ex: movies, games, music, etc)
-convincing him that the medicine’s taste isn’t that bad
-KISSES AND LULLABIES AND COMFORT
-hdjdifjjdhjdjcbjdjs
Prompts
1. Vox's Screen Flickers: As Vox's fever worsens, his digital display starts to flicker more frequently, causing him frustration. Caretaker (could be reader, Lucifer, Alastor, whoever floats your boat) intervenes by adjusting the lighting in the room and finding a workaround to stabilize Vox's screen, earning a grateful smile from the usually composed demon.
2. Memory Lapses: Vox experiences occasional memory lapses due to corrupted files in his system. Caretaker helps him navigate these moments by providing gentle reminders and filling in the blanks, leading to some humorous exchanges as Vox tries to piece together his thoughts.
3. Blue Screen Crashes: During one particularly severe crash, Vox's screen displays the dreaded blue screen of death. Caretaker panics momentarily before realizing it's just a system error. They manage to reboot Vox's system and get him back up and running, with Vox expressing both annoyance and gratitude for their quick thinking.
4. Cuddling for Comfort: Despite his initial resistance, Vox eventually gives in to caretakers insistence on cuddling for comfort. They share a tender moment as caretaker wraps their arms around Vox, offering him warmth and reassurance as he battles his illness.
5. Care Package: Caretaker surprises Vox with a care package filled with remedies (for his physical symptoms and technological problems) and soothing programs to help alleviate his symptoms. Vox is touched by the gesture and allows caretaker to administer the treatments, grateful for their thoughtfulness.
6. Vox's Vulnerability: As Vox's fever peaks, he becomes increasingly vulnerable, shedding his usual stoic facade in favor of expressing his true feelings. Caretaker witnesses a softer side of Vox as he opens up about his fears and insecurities, forging a deeper bond between them.
7. Late Night Conversations: Unable to sleep due to his discomfort, Vox engages caretaker in late-night conversations about life, love, and the complexities of being a demon in Hell. Caretaker listens intently, cherishing the opportunity to connect with Vox on a deeper level despite how tired and groggy they are.
8. Comic Relief: Despite his illness, Vox's signature wit and sarcasm remain intact, providing moments of comic relief amidst the seriousness of the situation. Caretaker finds themselves laughing at Vox's quips, grateful for his ability to lighten the mood even in the darkest of times.
9. Slow Recovery: As Vox's fever begins to break and his systems stabilize, caretaker continues to provide unwavering support and care. They celebrate small victories together, rejoicing in Vox's gradual recovery and the return of his usual health and power.
10. Gratitude and Affection: In a quiet moment of respite, Vox expresses his gratitude to his caretaker for their steadfast companionship and unwavering devotion. He admits that he couldn't have made it through his illness without them.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin vox#vox#my writing#writing#writing prompt#sickfic#he’s sick#my prompts#go feral idk#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin hotel brainrot#sick#sick fanfic#vox x reader#vox x alastor#vox x lucifer#radiostatic#staticapple#if you want idc#vox x valentino#vox x velvette#voxvel#voxval#staticmoth#vox x husk#vox x y/n#vox x oc#vox x you
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In Sickness (More Than Health)
“You just sneezed, get back to bed.”
“I didn’t sneeze, I was… making train sounds?….”
“…Train noises?” Connor says, with the tone of someone far too suspicious for a simple conversation.
“Yeah,” Malcolm says, looking very unsteady. “Train noises. You know, cho-cho?”
“Right…” Connor trails off. “Sure.”
“Oh, Connor.” Malcolm says, sounding really quite sickeningly sympathetic. “Have you never heard a train before?”
“I’ve heard trains, Malcolm. I’ve also heard bullshit, and I can tell you which one you sound like right now, and it isn’t a train.”
#pjo hoo toa#pjo#riordanverse#pjo series#pjo fandom#snipp#snippet#malcolm pace#connor stoll#malconnor#sickfic#definitely not an actual conversation i've had#whaaaaaaat?
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An authority figure who is super annoyed with somebody who has a bad cold. Think... conductor in an orchestra, sports coach... Somebody mean.
They go "What the fuck is wrong with you, [last name]?"
The person's voice is all thick and hoarse. "I have a cold, sir."
"A cold?" Cue the disgusted look.
Everyone feels so, so bad for this person, but they would never speak up. Too scary.
"Swear to god, if you don't stop sniffling right now, I'll stop being so polite."
A while later this authority figure is chewing the sickie out (again) for making some kind of mistake, yelling at them close to their face. They stop abruptly when a weird expression takes hold of sickie's face. There's confusion initially, then the cause becomes evident.
Sickie gets a withering look. "[Last name.] Don't you DARE -"
"heh'CHieWw!"
After that... the most intense eye contact ever. Sickie will either get... his throat ripped out or the most disgruntled "bless you" ever uttered.
#snz#snzblr#snz kink#snz thoughts#snzfic#sicknario#sicknarios#whump#sickfic#whump writing#look... idk what the hell possessed me to write this either okay?#so sorry
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Leo's Birthday
Soooo this fic actually takes place 4 fics in the future and I'll make sure to leave it in the correct order in the masterlist. But I wrote it first and I don't have the patience to wait to post!
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“Hey, Wagner,” Dean poked his head inside of the empty conference room, where Leo was hunched over his papers, reading over a previous case similar to the one he was currently handling.
It was only his third case, he couldn’t fumble it.
“Yeah?” Leo didn’t bother looking up, so he startled when Dean suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders, “Martin, what are you doi-”
“Mark your page,” Dean bossed, squeezing his shoulder, with a smile on his face, “I gotta show you something.”
Leo scoffed at the order, but his curiosity was piqued and he obeyed, marking his page and putting the files away inside his case. They walked out of the conference room together and then entered the elevator.
“Where are we going…?” Leo frowned as Dean pressed the last digit. The top floor only had Mrs. Mitchell’s office and the rooftop…
“Wait and see,” Dean was bouncing on his feet and Leo squinted, suddenly very suspicious. Surely his co-worker wouldn’t be this happy over bad news, they were friends, so-
The door opened and Leo nearly jumped out of his skin as a huge “SURPRISE!” followed.
He startled, his back hitting the inside of the elevator, then let out a chuckle at his own expense. His coworkers were all gathered around the door. Sandra, Chuck, Nicole from the reception, Mrs. Mitchell — his boss! —, others as well.
Sandy was holding a box with a bento cake and two cupcakes inside of it. The icing was a deep, forest green, with golden flakes all over it. Their office’s colors.
“You didn’t think you could hide your birthday from us, did you Wagner? We’re professional snoopers,” Dean messed up his hair, shoving Leo out of the elevator. There was a table on the rooftop and they had piled on little tea sandwiches, more green cupcakes and a champagne bottle.
Leo’s chest squeezed with happiness, “I wasn’t hiding anything, I - I love this, thank you,” he interrupted himself, as Sandra passed the box with the mini cake and cupcakes to Chuck’s hands and pulled him into a hug to congratulate him.
It was nearly the end of their day, so they spent an hour there celebrating. Leo devoured his cake. It was almost too much for one sitting, but he hadn’t had lunch, so that hit just the right spot.
Still, as they wrapped up, he was feeling full enough he decided to skip on the two cupcakes and just bring them home for later.
“Go home, Wagner,” Mrs. Mitchell patted his arm, “and next year we hope to know with more advance than Dean guessing because he was snooping during lunch,” she rolled her eyes, “so we can have a proper lunch in celebration.”
“This was amazing, I don’t need anything else, ma’am,” Leo blushed and she wrinkled her nose at his line.
“Don’t settle for less than you deserve, Wagner. Now get out of my sight before I change my mind.”
She talked like their football coach, Leo thought with a smile, nodding and heading to the elevator. Maybe that was why he liked her so much.
Having two hours more than he had expected, Leo took his time driving home, stopping along the way to pick up flowers for their apartment and treats for JD.
Leo called Vince, but he didn’t pick up, indicating he was on the road. Jonah was surely still at the hospital. Leo took a long shower, then hit the dial to Luke, while putting the two remaining cupcakes in the fridge, taking a needless bite of one. He was bored and ready to start his birthday celebrations.
“Hi kid,” Luke picked up on the second ring, “sorry, I’m in the middle of something. Is this anything urgent?”
“No,” Leo pouted, “we can talk at the restaurant, I was just bored and wanted to chat.”
“Sorry,” Lucas sounded busy, “I’m in the shelter-”
“The homeless shelter?” Leo raised his eyebrows, squishing the phone between his cheek and shoulder and falling down to his knees as he saw JD get out from under the couch, “what are you doing there?”
“I started working here yesterday,” Luke was breathless, “I’ll tell you all about it over dinner. See you in a couple hours, kid.”
“See you,” Leo sighed, hanging up and then getting down on his stomach on the floor in order to grab his cat. JD let out an indignant meow at Leo snatching her, falling into a baby position as he cradled her, “hi baby. My cute, fluffy, prickly baby,” he said in a childish voice, feeling the judgment oozing out of his pet.
Jonah came home just as Leo was starting to get restless, moving around with nothing to do since he hadn’t planned to have free time.
“Hi!” Jon jumped as he saw Leo sprawled on the couch, already all dressed for the night, with JD getting her fur all over his fancy buttoned up shirt, since she was curled up on his stomach, “you’re home early, I was hoping- I was thinking you’d-”
Leo lifted up his head from the couch cushion, eyebrows raised at Jon’s uncharacteristic fumbling of words, “hoping I was gone?”
“Don’t say it like that,” Jonah scoffed, neatly tucking away his shoes and circling the couch in order to look at him, “don’t you look nice.”
“Thank you,” Leo grinned, lazily scratching JD’s head, “my boss gave me the last two hours of my day off, but uh… I had nothing to do, so I’ve been here, bothering JD.”
“She looks super bothered,” Jonah rolled his eyes, as their spotted cat was purring, rolled up on herself like a snake, on top of Leo, “well, I was planning on leaving this on top of the bed with a letter that said how much I love you and how incredibly successful and attentive and loving I think you are and how I wanna wake up next to you for the rest of my days, but since you’re here…” Jon sat at the edge of the couch, handing him a large silver wrapped box, “it’s nothing flashy, but you’re a lawyer, so I think I’m allowed-”
Leo raised a hand to shut him up, removing the lid of the box and then letting out a whistle, while JD got up to sniff at the wrapping paper, “this is stunning… You got my name engraved?”
“Stamped,” Jonah corrected, as Leo pulled out the dark leather case from the box, eyebrows raised at the marking that said Mr. Leo Wagner - Juris Doctorate, “I left some space there for the hyphenated Banks, if you make up your mind about it…”
Leo’s cheeks hurt from smiling, “I love it. I’m gonna use it every damn day… And I’m considering the Banks, I promise,” he leaned in to grab Jon’s shirt, pulling him for a kiss, “I love it, thank you.”
“I love you,” Jon shrugged, thumb pushing slightly on Leo’s chin, “I’m gonna shower and we can go- Stop letting JD cuddle when you’re dressed up, bloody hell, Leo.”
“She’s cute!” Leo cried out as Jon got up from the couch and rushed out. He was still completely enchanted by his new case. There were fancy instructions of use and a bottle of leather conditioner in the box, as well as a life-long warranty that made him snort.
As they made it to the restaurant, Leo’s stomach was starting to hurt from hunger. Even though he had had his mini cake in the office, three hours had passed and he was a big guy, just that wasn’t even remotely enough to sustain him.
Bella, Luke and Wendy were already inside and Leo rushed to them. The couple had literally just gotten back from their honeymoon three days ago and they hadn’t had a chance to meet yet.
“C’mere, blondie,” Bella pulled on the collar of his shirt, pulling him into a tight hug, “congratulations, Leo.”
Leo melted into the hug, wrapping his arms around her and taking Bella’s feet off the ground, tipping his body back.
They were already a bottle of wine in — not that much, considering there were five of them — when Vince entered the restaurant.
“I’m so so sorry,” Vince cried out, stripping his biker jacket and throwing it to Luke, “there was a huge tree in the road and no one could get through – it’s not important – Give me a hug!” Vin practically manhandled Leo out of his chair and the blonde let out a squeak at the ribs crushing hug, “happy birthday, kiddo.”
“I-Can’t. Breathe,” Leo gasped, making Vince chuckle and drop him. Leo dizzily staggered back, practically falling into his seat.
Conversation went on easily after that. Leo retold that evening’s events, not hiding how proud and happy he was that his boss had joined in the celebration, and Wendy had a million tales to share about the fifty different things she was doing. Luke and Bella couldn’t shut up about the Maldives, still grossly all over each other despite spending nearly a month away with no one but each other’s company.
Jonah brought up Angie’s proposition while they went through the second main dish – lobster — and Luke shrugged, “I think it’s a brilliant idea.”
“Of course you do, you don’t work,” Jonah wrinkled his nose, causing Luke to glare at him and Leo to snort, continuing to eat his food.
“I’ll have you know I actually got a job,” Lucas shrugged, as if those weren’t big news and didn’t mean a lot, considering how much of his mental health deteriorating was tied to his career path or lack of one.
“What’s the job?!” Vince practically rattled him and Luke chuckled, pushing his hands away.
“I’m a charity fundraiser,” Lucas was almost beaming with how happy he was and Bella threw an arm around his shoulders, planting a big lipstick-red kiss on his cheek, “I’m not gonna take credit for this, it was actually a culmination of my therapist asking me to get a couple vocational therapy sessions, my beautiful wife telling me to stop sulking about being rich, and me finally using my head.”
“Whatever does that mean?” Leo asked, leaning back on his chair. His stomach was stuffed with food and there was still dessert to go. He fidgeted on his seat, wishing he could rub his belly or loosen up his belt, but it would be bad form in an upscale place such as this.
“Well, I have the political connections thanks to my mom, I have the glamorous connections thanks to my dad, but I never wanted to do anything with those. They always felt like a burden,” Luke blushed, “but that was silly. There’s people who’d kill to be able to get things as easily as I can, so I realized I can use these connections for good-”
“By making rich people give away their money,” Vince chuckled, clicking his glass with Bella and the ginger nodded almost smugly.
“It’s not just that,” Luke whined, but he didn’t seem offended, “you actually need to know laws, but lucky me, I’m a Poli Sci major… And I happen to be really good at leading teams and bossing people.”
“We already knew that, Captain,” Leo winked at Luke, leaning to his side and half resting against Jonah, as the conversation continued, Wendy was full of questions about Luke’s new position, even after him saying he was not in charge of anything, but working under a guy. She had that ambitious little sparkle in her eye that often found a twin in Jonah’s.
Not this time, tonight Jon was too busy saving all of his heart eyes for Leo. He leaned in, pressing his nose to the blonde’s temple and smiling, “enjoying yourself?”
“Uh-hum,” Leo nodded, biting down a grimace as his stomach cramped. Maybe he had overdone it… He just needed a moment, Leo thought, breathing through it and glaring in disgust to his empty plate. He really shouldn’t have cleared the plate.
Probably noticing his grimace, a waiter quickly came to retrieve all the plates, then hung around as they chatted about dessert. Leo felt a wave of revulsion at the thought of eating another bite. His tummy was packed and he could feel a lump in his throat.
He coughed lightly against his fist and squeezed Jon’s knee, “order me a water? I gotta go to the bathroom.”
“Of course,” Jon nodded, still lazily studying the menu and letting out a chuckle as Wendy pulled her chair closer to him, impromptu giving him advice on what to pick.
Leo circled the table, when he passed by the guys, Vince darted out a hand in a teasing manner, giving his back a pat.
It wouldn’t have mattered on any other day, but stuffed as he was, the little friendly pat — that was a bit rough, given Vince never seemed to have understood he was not the size of a kitten — caused a sick burp to come up.
It fizzled out in his throat, but brought with it the taste of his dinner, causing Leo to shudder. He burst into the men’s room and caught a glimpse of his face.
The wine had done a decent job at masking his paleness, because despite the fact he had turned belly-fish white in the last couple of minutes, the alcohol still caused the top of his cheeks to be a starkling pink.
He leaned over the sink, splashing his face with water and taking some soothing breaths. The hunched over position caused his stomach to slosh dangerously and Leo let out yet another little burp under his breath, glancing at the door nervously as he touched his belly.
Deciding he didn’t want to risk getting walked on by one of his friends, Leo stumbled to the private stalls and locked the door. He sat on the toilet instead of leaning over it like his belly was begging him to, then spread his legs out and undid his belt.
The relief was instantaneous and Leo all but melted as the nausea eased up. He planted a hand on his stomach, tugging up his black button up, and scrunched up his face as he looked at his belly. His abs were a far cry from the morning, now his stomach was taut and stretched out, gurgling non stop.
It wasn’t something they’d be able to hear over the chatting and the soft piano music in the restaurant, but in the empty bathroom he could hear it clearly. Leo groaned, planting the heel of his hand to his tummy and pressing in little circles.
The belly rub wasn’t quite successful and nowhere near as nice as Jonah’s were, but at least it managed to bring up yet another breathy burp- He lurched forward with a much bigger one, that nearly morphed into a retch. Leo slapped a hand over his mouth, shocked and breathing hard, trying to understand if his stomach was going to reject his dinner.
Instead, the near gag seemed to have calmed things down a bit. He carefully removed his hand from his lips, wiping the clammy sweat from his upper lip and breathing out. That was close.
Figuring he had been gone long enough, Leo begrudgingly got up, closing his belt once more and tucking his shirt in. He splashed his face with some more cold water and took a breath, forcing himself to get out of the bathroom.
The minute he walked out, a hand was planted over his eyes and everything went dark. Leo let out a startled squeak, which morphed into a hiccup and Jonah laughed at the noise, kissing his cheek.
“Relax,” he whispered in his ear, guiding Leo to walk forward, blindly, “happy birthday, baby.”
He lowered his hand and Leo realized Jon had walked him back to their table. Now their friends were standing and there was a large cake in the middle of the table, with candles sticking out and already alight.
Just the sight of it made his stomach churn, but Leo wasn’t lying when he smiled. The effort his friends had gone through to get him the perfect cake mattered much more than his bellyache and he shoved it to the back of his mind, grinning like crazy as they started to chorus in the happy birthday song.
Leo’s cheek turned a deep red as he noticed other strangers looking at their table, some even joining the singing. He turned his head, hiding it on Jonah’s shoulder and his fiance smiled, squeezing him closer as they finished up the song and Leo leaned to blow out the candles.
He got pulled in yet another round of hugs and finally Leo fell back down on his seat, on the opposite side of the table. The brief truce he had earned from his tummy back in the bathroom was broken and he was hiccuping, causing Vince to giggle as he let out a little squeaky-toy noise.
“That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard,” Vin chuckled, pushing a plate with a slice of cake his way and then passing Jonah another one, “dig in, kiddo, it’s your favorite. Chocolate on chocolate on chocolate.”
Sounded like hell, Leo thought with a small grimace, but then his stomach sank as he heard Vince’s next words, “my mom was appalled she shouldn’t put in any fruit.”
“Your mom- Ma made my cake?” Leo asked, both moved and completely distraught as he realized there was no way he could avoid eating now.
“Sorry guys, there was a huge tree on the road,” Wendy mimicked her boyfriend’s excuse from before, forcing a deep voice, “he was late because it was a whole logistic nightmare to bring the cake from Doveport, but Ma insisted, you’re like… Her favorite.”
Luke scoffed, “which is very unfair, I’d just like to point it out,” he said in a teasing way, “I’m supposed to be the favorite.”
“Shut up, Luke,” Bella chuckled, shushing him with a little kiss and stealing a piece of his slice of cake, even though she had her own.
Leo eyed the cake with disgust, nodding and forcing a smile. His mouth watered at the thought of pushing any more sweetness in his tummy, but he ignored it, grabbing the fork.
Jonah was scratching his back with one hand, continuing to eat and humming in agreement to the compliments about Ma’s cooking and the fact Leo was her favorite out of Vince’s friends. He was blissfully unaware of the turmoil his boyfriend was in and barely registered as Leo pushed half of his slice on his plate, giving up halfway through.
He couldn’t even swallow what was currently in his mouth. Leo tried gulping it down, but his throat was refusing to cooperate. He hiccuped again and this time he couldn’t help but groan, as liquid rocketed up his throat.
“I’m gonna get the bill,” Jonah whispered, squeezing his nape and getting up, beating Luke to it.
Leo groaned, barely trying to hide how shitty he was feeling. His friends were all getting up and then Vince circled the table, grinning, “are you drunk, kiddo? That was almost nothing compared to what I’ve seen you drink-”
“No-” he finally managed to gulp down the chocolate mess in his mouth and felt cold sweat break out on his back, his stomach immediately rejecting it, “ate- ate- HIC!- Fuck, too much…”
Vince chuckled, grabbing his arm, “Okay, let’s go outside for some air. C’mon-”
He gently shoved Leo forward and they walked out of the restaurant, Leo continuing to hiccup.
The cool air was nice, but Leo knew he was past the point where a breeze could help. He cupped his mouth, muffling yet another little burp and groaning as a hiccup shook him once more, causing his stomach to clench.
“Shit- Vince,” Leo grabbed his friend’s arm, gulping down nervously and trying to communicate he was gonna puke-
“BOO!” Wendy jumped on him and Leo lost his weak hold on his stomach. He let out a choking noise and folded in half, puking all over the patch of sidewalk and Wendy’s pink and green heels.
It was so violent that Leo felt dizzy. His eyes stung with humiliation and his nose with the acid that tickled it. He stayed bent down, unable to straighten up not only because he was so embarrassed, but because his belly felt far from settled.
He closed his eyes, letting out a whimper, and then felt a hand in the middle of his back, rubbing up and down. Too rough to be Jonah’s.
“What the hell, Leo?” Wendy groaned, while Luke said, “Wen, chill out,” and helped him straighten up. He was the one who had stepped closer. Vince and Bella looked equally shocked, Bella was the one carrying the box with the rest of his cake and she was clutching it to her chest.
“Sorry-” Leo groaned, feeling his whole face burn and his throat close up, now with tears, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”
“It’s fine,” Wendy scoffed, as Vince grabbed her by her armpits and helped her slide out of her shoes without having to touch the chocolate vomit covering them, “god, this is gross…”
“Wendy,” Luke stressed, squeezing Leo’s shoulder, “what’s wrong, Leo?”
“Sorry,” he groaned again, sniffling pitifully, “I just- I just had so much to eat and then Wendy startled me and- Why did you startle me?!”
“Because you were hiccuping!” Wendy scoffed, with a disgusted frown on, using Bella’s shoulder to steady herself as she tiptoed away from the mess. Vince seemed to have gotten over the shock and only looked amused, snorting at his girlfriend’s answer, “I was trying to help!”
“Amazing,” Jonah said, half amused, half annoyed, jumping down the last steps and joining them outside, “Leo, are you okay?”
“I wanna die,” Leo groaned, but at least the nausea had calmed down a little. Not fully, he still felt stuffed and his stomach was still churning, but he no longer felt like he was going to throw up right at that minute…
“You’re fine, Wendy will live,” Jonah rolled his eyes at Wendy’s little huff, but she did sigh and nod.
“Just because it’s your birthday I won’t yell at you,” she said, then in a much kinder voice, “at least do you feel better?”
“Not really,” Leo admitted, leaning on Jonah’s touch and wanting to crawl up somewhere dark and die. More people were leaving the restaurant and he wanted to hide away from their eyes, feeling like everyone knew… His stomach churned and he planted a hand on it, grimacing, “can we go home?”
Jon frowned, touching his face lightly, subtly checking for any heat, then nodded when he felt none, “yeah, of course. You guys can keep the cake, I don’t think anyone is going to eat it at home,” his voice had a slightly humorous tone and Leo blushed, but just the thought of the chocolate cake made his belly gurgle.
He groaned, “don’t even talk about it,” Leo wrapped an arm around his middle, squeezing his eyes shut as the queasiness started to come back. Luke thumped on his back in a sympathetic manner.
“Feel better, kiddo,” he smiled, “and happy birthday.”
Leo whined as the rest of their friends did the same, side stepping the mess to tell him goodbye, Wendy being the last one.
She squeezed his arm, “happy birthday, Leo,” her tone was teasing, “at least the hiccups stopped?”
“God, go away,” Leo groaned, muffling a burp in his hand and she grinned, kissing Jonah’s cheek.
“You owe me a new pair of Jimmy Choo’s” Wendy warned him, waving and running to where Vince was waiting for her on his bike.
Leo let out a sigh, falling against Jonah and groaning when his fiance let out a little chuckle at his expense. “What the fuck is a Jimmy Choo?” Leo asked, his voice muffled by Jon’s shirt, allowing the other man to pull him back to the car.
#sickfic#overeating#emeto#emetophilia#mywriting#leo wagner#food poisoning#uh that's sort of a spoiler
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Izuku taking Care of You When your Sick
Izuku, when he first finds out when your sick he panics, straight panics. No thoughts just absolutely freaking out. Once he calms down he’s right by your side, checking your temperature, opening every window if you feel hot and then bundling you up so you don’t become freezing.
Izuku, goes right to Bakugo, practically on his knees begging him to help him cook you something to make you feel better. Once Bakugo finally gives in he’s already in the kitchen trying to do as much as possible. After a long while of him getting yelled at by Bakugo about what spices and seasonings he can and can’t use, and what they were even making he rushes it straight to you. (Also insists that he feed you)
Izuku, who suggested multiple times that he should skip class just to take of you and make sure your safe.
Izuku, who makes a deal to come see you every break between classes he can get. Will literally leave the classroom and sprint straight to your dorm room during lunch just to make sure you eat and rest.
Izuku, who won’t let you leave your bed unless you really need to. You need something that less than a foot away from you, he’s grabbing it and giving it to you. You need to use the restroom, he’s walking you to and from there.
Izuku, who will cuddle you throughout the night, not caring if he gets sick in the process, he just wants to hold you and keep you safe.
Izuku, that would gladly hold your hair up/back if you were puking, then not even 30 seconds later running you a bath and going to the common room to get you food/fluids.
Izuku, who, if your muscles or limbs ached really badly, he would in a heartbeat massage them and run you a hot bath right after.
Izuku, while your resting would call his mom and ask her what medicine he needs to help you feel better, then once he hangs up he’s running to the nearest drug store to get those for you.
Izuku, who is literally begging Aizawa to let him bring you your home/school work just to basically do all of it for you. (Aizawa knows but just let’s it slide)
Izuku, the cinnamon roll who would literally be the best care taker for you when your sick.
#izuku midoriya#mha izuku#bnha izuku#izuku midoria x reader#izuku x reader#izuku x y/n#mha#bnha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#deku#deku x reader#deku x y/n#headcanon#sickfic
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'Fine This Morning'
Another detective fic is here!! This time I was lightly inspired by a prompt of a character feeling fine in the morning and suddenly coming down with something. it's semi-long, so I hope you enjoy :))
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Jack laid his jacket over his chair, placed his coffee on the desk and sat across from Harry.
“Morning.” It was barely morning anymore, but, force of habit.
Harry looked up from his desk, “Good morning. Where have you been?” He sat back from his work, folding his arms to give Jack a funny look.
“The morgue,” He pulled out a pen, clicking the end a few times before writing a quick reminder to write up the findings from said morgue trip. Jack took a sip of coffee, “What’s that look for?”
“Nothing, nothing. Thought you’d be somewhere more interesting.” Harry slumped back into his seat. Jack could see he was just pretending to write, his pen hovering just above the paper. Jack chuckled,
“Looking for gossip?” He asked. Harry’s cheeks reddened at being caught. He immediately got back into his work, hunching over to block his face. Jack really laughed now, “Don’t go all shy on me.” He joked, now leaning forward to get his own work done.
While they worked, all types of people filed into the department. Jack couldn’t help but overhear a family that had lost their young boy over the weekend, desperately asking for some help. He looked up, noticing the mother crying and the father absolutely ripping into one of the younger detectives. It was causing a bit of a ruckus. He looked over to Harry, giving him a nod.
Walking over to the couple, the mother noticed their approach. She latched onto Jack, “Please, sir, can you help us?” She shook him about, surprisingly strong. It left him feeling a little unbalanced. She cried out again. Jack put his hands on her shoulders, gently pulling her off him.
“Ma’am, I’m sorry but you need to calm down. You too, sir.” The father turned to face him, anger painted across his features. He looked down at Harry then to Jack,
“You’re detectives aren’t you? Can’t you help us?” He jabbed a finger at Harry’s chest. Jack stepped in front to avoid further confrontation. The couple noticed his stern expression and seemed to back off, remembering just who they were talking to.
Jack took a step back, “Now, if we can all calm down-”
“Calm down?!” The father was riled again, “Just who do you think you are? We lost our son and no one is helping us.” He took a step at Jack. Suddenly, Jack felt a bit claustrophobic. He had no idea what this man could do, and with his grief and anger, he figured it wouldn’t be pleasant.
“Why do you need detectives?” Harry asked.
A moment of indecision came across the man’s face. His eyes bore into Jack’s and moved to Harry, seemingly debating whether or not to back down. Jack tried to keep his back straight and his feet planted. The man stepped back and Jack felt a weight come off his chest. A shallow breath fell from his mouth. The father held onto his wife, giving their attention to Harry.
“We think it was murder. He always hung around a bad crowd, we think one of them killed him.” Names were exchanged, and Harry took them over to his desk. Jack watched as they left, trying to calm his racing heart. He couldn’t understand why that moment had caused such panic in him. His hands were clammy and his head was unsteady.
Jack trudged back to his desk. Falling into his chair, he pushed his hair back and shut his eyes. He could vaguely make out the conversation across from him, but he didn’t really care. The couple were probably just paranoid. It wasn’t a very nice thing to think, but with how he was feeling, he didn’t want to do nice. He planted his elbow on the desk, looking down at the report he was nearly finished with before the interruption. With a final few sentences, he signed off on it and filed it away with the rest of the case reports.
Without a word, he waved the file to Lawrence and left to put it in storage. The case was completely solved, with a simple explanation of drug overdose on the victim. He was walking back to his desk when a wave of vertigo hit him. Without intending to, he caught himself heavily with the wall. His eyes were clamped shut. Jack tried to breathe.
“Hey, Woods. Too hard on the booze last night?” Detective Watson strolled past, her own case file in hand. She nudged him in the arm.
Jack looked at her. She didn’t even seem to notice his distress, “Yeah, you could say that.” He didn’t give her a chance to reply and kept walking. Every step he took shook up his brain. Jack felt increasingly sick the closer he got to his desk. The couple were still there, but looked to be successfully calmed. Harry gave him a quick glance before he finished up his conversation with the couple. They thanked him profusely, but as they were leaving, gave Jack a glare. He didn’t care. He wasn’t here to please everyone.
“I told them I’d look at the file but I don’t think I’m going to find anything. Sounds like the kid was just unlucky,” Harry stuck a note on his computer screen, probably their phone number, and looked back at Jack.
Harry had just opened his mouth to say something more when the Chief came over to their desk. He had a thundercloud above his head.
“You two, we got an urgent case downtown. Just got the call, it’s fresh. You got it?” With the Chief glaring at them, Jack and Harry collected their things and set off. They took Jack’s car and got to the scene around ten minutes later. They were met with the usual hubbub as they stepped out of the car. Jack swore he felt his feet skid on the concrete, but they were perfectly stationary. He ignored it, flashing his badge to the police officers in front of the yellow tape. The body was lying face up in the middle of the footpath, eyes wide. There was an obvious stab wound in his stomach.
Harry crouched down, “Well, at least we know how they died.” He did a quick survey of the area around the body, but found no weapon.
Jack stood back, the sight getting to him. He stepped around the body and looked into the bushes and rubbish bins. No weapon there either. He tried to keep his head and body moving together to avoid any more vertigo, which probably made him look like a robot. With Harry covering the immediate area, Jack set off to go take a look around some of the alleys.
Out of sight from everyone, he allowed himself a few moments to breathe. Everything was just getting worse as time passed. His hands were perpetually sweating, his head was pounding and every little movement made the world violently tilt, and to make everything just a little worse, he was beginning to feel nauseated. He was feeling fine that morning. No headache, no dizziness, no nothing. After the incident with that couple, everything just went downhill.
He doubted that they had passed something onto him. No sickness would ever work that quickly. Jack found himself lost in thought when a scrape of a boot caught his attention. Suddenly, his brain was on overdrive and he carefully slid his gun out of its holster, bringing it up in front of him. He took quiet steps, calculating where the noise had come from. The obvious guess was from behind the big dumpster so he rounded his gun past there first. No one.
He kept moving further down the alley when the noise happened again. But from right behind him. Jack spun, assaulted by vertigo, but he kept his cool. In front of him was a young man, around mid-20s with a knife gripped tightly in his left hand.
“Drop the knife.” Jack said plainly. No use in yelling just yet.
The man’s body stuttered a bit. Like he was fighting with some invisible force that told him to put the knife down. He readjusted his grip on the weapon, “And what if I don’t?” He taunted, taking a step towards Jack.
“I’ll shoot you down. Then you’d go straight into a jail cell. You wouldn’t want that,” Jack tried to keep his words strong. He still hadn’t recovered from the spin earlier. He desperately tried to keep his arms out and stable, “Put it down.” He emphasised.
There was about five seconds of nothing, and then the man lunged forward with the knife. He was sloppy and Jack managed to dodge him. He went flying past him, so Jack turned around and shot him twice in the leg, enough to make him drop and cry out. He ran over to him, holding the gun now at his head, “What did I say? Now sit still while the others come.”
Jack stood back, knowing the perp wouldn’t get anywhere. He stumbled back into the dumpster, his back roughly smacking into the cold metal. He shivered. Now with the adrenaline slowly leaving his body, he felt every ounce of illness and symptom like never before. He put his hand to his head, stifling back a groan as that little movement caused a fresh wave of nausea to splash against his insides.
He heard rather than saw other police officers entering the alley, all with their own guns raised.
“Over here,” Jack mumbled, vaguely pointing to the man. He heard the thump of boots run past him and then the jingle of handcuffs.
Jack had to move. The smell of rubbish wafting up from the bin was making everything worse. With all the strength he had left, he exited the alley, squinting at the burn of the setting sun. Thank god his day was nearly over, he desperately needed to puke and preferably in his own home. The suspect was kicking and screaming as he got walked out to the ambulance, blood steadily dripping down from his right leg. He gave Jack a beady eyed glare, spitting at his feet. Jack was used to it.
Detective Lawrence came up behind him, patting him on the shoulder. It caused Jack’s centre of gravity to shift, “Good one, Woods. How’d ya know he was back there?”
“Lucky guess.” He muttered. Jack politely shook off Harry’s hand, stumbling his way over to the car. He would deal with the rest of this bullshit tomorrow. He was about five seconds away from either passing out or vomiting.
Thankfully, he was somehow able to hold it all down for him to get back to the station, gather his things, say goodbye to Harry and drive home. Now that he was home though, the feeling that he felt after shooting the man in the alley was back but increased by tenfold. Every little movement caused a sickly burp to shoot up his throat, and his head to quite literally spin. He hobbled over to his bathroom, hand running along the wall, and practically fell in front of his toilet.
He spat thick saliva, “Ohh, god.” He moaned out. This was the worst thing he had ever felt in a while. His belly angrily whined at him, forcing a strained hiccup and a burp to come tumbling out of his mouth. He just needed to puke, then he would be fine. Everything was curdled in his stomach. Jack spit again, the saliva dangling off his lips.
He breathed deep through his nose, burps filtering up through his throat. Before he could even get a chance to realise what was happening, a gag tore its way up his throat and out came a thick wave of vomit. He retched again, head spinning. He very quickly realised he was going to fall over and plonked his hands heavily onto the tile. With his body stable, his belly had free rein to do whatever it needed and his cheeks puffed up to spew out another mouthful of vomit.
Jack coughed on that one, groaning as he was given absolutely no time to breathe as another gag brought another wave. His stomach contracted and heaved.
“Fuck m’ life,” He groaned, “Jesus.” His words slurred together much like the mess in his belly. Jack felt like actual garbage. He burped again and it stung his throat. However, he felt like he wasn’t about to puke again, so he gathered all of his strength and sat back from the toilet. All he wanted was his bed and sleep, just to forget about the agony of the day. His stomach was aching, and his head was reeling, nothing seemed to want to stay still when he looked at it. He moaned again, wondering how the hell he was going to actually get into bed.
With a deep breath, he pushed himself off the floor and clung tightly onto the bathroom sink. He stared at his reflection, disgusted by the pale cheeks and dark circles. Jack splashed some water onto his face, swishing some around his mouth for good measure, and made the journey to his room. Finally getting into bed felt heavenly. He simply laid on his side, breathing softly and curling around a pillow.
The day played through his mind like a DVD. The couple, the storage room, the crime scene, the man with the knife. And the fact that he had somehow gotten sick between it all. His morning was normal, his routine had no deviations. What kind of bug from Hell had he caught? It made his head spin thinking about it. Jack squeezed his eyes shut, whining a bit. He felt his body relax deeper and sleep slowly sunk her claws into him. His phone was on his bedside table, ready to call in sick tomorrow.
---
#quite proud of this one ngl#jack#harry#oc's#emeto#stomach ache#belly kink#stomach flu#emetophilia#vomiting#dizziness#burping#sickfic
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Get Well Soon
Danny is sick and his powers are going crazy.
For the prompt: Danny comes down with a nasty, but totally regular cold. It's not the first time he's been sick since he got his powers, and normally, it's no big deal, but this time his powers are acting up, setting off randomly every so often. It's never very long, but it IS getting hard to hide, especially as he starts to recover. (AKA: sickfic with shenanigans) [from @gottacatchghosts]
Read also on AO3
[No applicable warnings]
Danny was dying. He was definitely gonna die. He was already half dead, but this vile infection was going to do him in the rest of the way. He moaned in pain and distress.
"Stop being so dramatic, Danny," Sam told him, rolling her eyes. "It's just a regular cold. It's not even a ghost flu or anything like that. It's a perfectly normal, run-of-the-mill cold, and you're gonna be fine."
"Are you sure about that, Sam?" Danny asked.
His voice was low and nasally, thanks to his stuffy nose and sore throat, and he promptly buried his face in his blankets and burst into a coughing fit.
When he looked up again, Sam was staring at him, wide-eyed.
He looked down at himself curiously, wondering what she was looking so freaked about. White gloves and black sleeves met his swimming vision.
"Just a normal cold, huh?" He looked at her and raised an eyebrow—probably both actually. His muscle control wasn't the best at the moment.
"It is just a cold," she insisted. "We've already run the tests, and there's absolutely no chance at all that this virus is in any way ghost related. It's a regular cold, Danny. You're just gonna have to tough it out until it goes away."
Danny groaned in despair and agony.
"But Saaaammm."
"I don't know what you think I can do about it. I'm rich, not magic."
He groaned again, and Sam shuddered as the temperature in the room suddenly dropped to freezing, and a thin sheen of frost formed on Danny's window.
He'd had colds before since getting his powers, and normally, it wasn't that big a deal. It sucked, sure; being sick always sucked. But nothing like this had ever happened before. His powers had never acted up like this before, and he'd never lost control of his powers.
Sam walked over and opened his window to let the cold air escape.
"I've gotta get going," she told him apologetically. "You should change back before your parents come in to check on you. Fair warning, your mom was making soup when I came in."
"Thanks for the warning," he grumbled, and sniffed.
It took more concentration than usual to shift back into his Fenton form, but it seemed he hadn't completely lost control of his powers... yet, at least.
It was only a few minutes later that his mom came in, carrying a steaming mug full of chicken soup.
"Hi sweetie, how you feeling?" she asked, her voice dripping with sympathy.
"I feel half dead," Danny replied with a small smirk.
He felt a sneeze coming on, but held it in. He knew what would happen.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she told him pouted. "Do you need anything? Cough syrup? Hot tea? Marshmallows? Oh!"
She turned to look in her utility belt, and as she did so, Danny let loose a sneeze, and the accompanying ghost-ray that shot out from him and scorched the wall opposite his bed, only narrowly missing his mother.
"Your dad found his old Game Boy," she said, pulling out a device lat looked kind of like Tucker's PDA, but way more eighties. "You don't have to take it if you don't want, but since you're stuck in bed right now, it might be fun, just to pass the time."
Danny put his mug of soup down on his bedside table, wiped his sweaty hands off on his blankets, and took the device from his mom. Examining it to figure out how exactly it worked. The controls were fairly intuitive, but he couldn't find the 'on' button. His mother laughed softly.
Well if that keeps you entertained, then my work here is done. She patted her knees, stood up and walked out the door with a gentle, "Get well soon, sweetie."
As soon as the door closed, Danny sneezed again. A ghost ray shot out and his the door where his mother's head had been a moment before.
Yeah... he'd better get well soon.
The Game Boy only had Tetris, Pac-Man, and the Ghostbusters 2 video game, so Danny chose to play the one game that didn't have ghosts in it, only to discover rather quickly that he sucked ass at Tetris. That didn't stop him from trying, even though his record at this point was 16 lines.
He was starting to get chills now, but he remained steadfastly focused on his game until his dad came into the room.
"Ah, the old Game Boy," he said fondly, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to Danny. "You know, I can get all the way to level two hundred and fifty-six on Pac-Man. Spent a whole summer trying to get a perfect score, but I never quite got there."
"I'm playing Tetris," Danny said.
A chill wracked his body and he saw his hands disappear and gasped softly. Thankfully his dad didn't notice, or the man might've turned around to look and seen empty air where his son had been a moment before. Danny quickly turned himself visible again.
"Oh... yeah, there was a deal going when I bought the Game Boy," his dad explained, oblivious as usual to the paranormal activity happening behind him. "It came with a free copy of Tetris. I tried it a few times, but the best score I ever got was twenty rows before I finally gave up."
"Yeah," Danny commiserated. "I've only gotten up to 16 so far."
He shuddered again with a chill and turned invisible once more. Then his dad started to turn toward him and Danny desperately snapped back into the visible spectrum.
"Well, as long as you're having fun, that's all that matters," his dad said.
Danny smiled in response, just relieved he'd managed to turn visible again before his dad saw—or rather, didn't see.
They didn't talk long before his dad left, and he was in his room alone again, free to turn invisible as much as he liked—whether he wanted to or not.
It was more-or-less fine when he was mostly left alone in his room with no one to see his powers acting up. He was still sick, and he still felt like death, but at least he didn't have to worry to much about his secret identity being found out.
But a few days later, he started to recover. He could get up and walk around the house, and people spent more time around him because they were less worried about catching his cold. The problem with that was, even though he was on the mend, his powers were still acting up.
Once, when he was microwaving some soup, he randomly went intangible and fell halfway through the kitchen floor. Thankfully Jazz had been the only one to see, and she'd helped pull him back up, but if his parents had been there, he'd have been screwed.
When he was watching TV with his mom, he'd had a light cough and when he looked up, he saw that he'd accidentally made the coasters on the coffee table start floating. Thankfully, she'd been too focused on the drama they were watching together to notice, but it had been a close call.
His cold was almost gone, but he wasn't out of the woods yet.
Truly, he couldn't get well soon enough.
#dp#danny phantom#danny fenton#jack fenton#sam manson#maddie fenton#sickfic#fic#things i wrote#phic phight#phic phight 24
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Valentine's Day
The Valentine's Day collab is finally here!
This is Elliot's POV. Cedar's POV will be on @ofclrosewriteswhump 's blog, but I will be adding both to the Worthless Masterlist.
I hope you enjoy!
Content: sickfic, an obscene amount of fluff, overwhelming gayness
-
Elliot had begged Lyra not to text Cedar. They'd been planning their Valentine's date for weeks and Elliot couldn't bear to be the reason it was ruined.
He'd woken up that morning feeling achy and lethargic. His throat was sore, his nose was stopped, and beads of sweat continued to appear at his hairline, no matter how many times he tried to wipe them away.
Of course, Lyra had noticed right away that something wasn't right, despite how hard he tried to hide it.
“Please, Lyra. I'm fine, I swear!” Elliot begged. “Just don't tell him, please.”
Lyra already had their phone out with Cedar's messages pulled up. “Sunshine, you're sick. Your date isn't for another week, it's no big deal.”
“But if he finds out, he'll cancel it! He'll be too worried about me. He always—” Elliot coughed and gagged as he was forced to swallow back down the phlegm that had traveled up his throat.
Lyra sighed. “I'm sorry, sunshine, but I can tell you feel awful. It's only gonna get worse if you don't rest.” They sent the text and Elliot felt his heart plummet. “Now, let's get you to bed.”
That's what led to Elliot laying in his bed, sobbing quietly into his comforter with Dumpling curled up against his side, but that was several days ago. Since then, Lyra had been doing everything they could to help him rest and heal enough before their date. However, it wasn't enough. It was the day of Valentine's, and Elliot was still bedridden. That morning, Lyra had informed him that they were going to run some errands, but that Marlie was on her way over to keep him company. That eased his worries a bit, until all that was left was the guilt of ruining Valentine's Day.
Elliot was cuddling with Dumpling while watching a movie on Lyra’s computer when the door to his room suddenly opened. He glanced up to see Marlie standing in the doorway and instantly brightened up a little.
“M-Mar—” Elliot dissolved into a coughing fit, his throat burning as he did so. His eyes watered and he reached for a tissue, only to find the box empty. Elliot groaned and laid back down on his bed.
Marlie rushed to his side, mumbling a quick “be right back,” before returning with an unopened roll of toilet paper. “Sorry, Bluebell. I wanted to be quick. Do you need water?” she asked softly, sitting next to his bed.
Elliot nodded. “I'm sorry, Marlie. You-You don't have to d-deal with this.” He ripped off a square of toilet paper and blew his nose.
Marlie put a gentle hand on his shoulder, comforting him the best she could. “I don’t mind. I want to help you.”
Elliot sniffled and threw away his makeshift tissue. “Are you sure? You-You don't h-have to.”
Marlie nodded. “Of course. I brought a couple bottles in my bag. Here, Bluebell.” She handed him a water bottle before thinking of something. “Do you want help with anything?”
Elliot shook his head. “Can-Can you just k-keep me company? I-I don't know where L-Lyra went and-and I don't wanna be alone.”
Marlie nodded, knowing he was overthinking. “Of course! Do you want to watch anything?” She offered to hold his hand, knowing she’d get sick anyway with her weaker immune system.
Elliot shrugged. “I was just watching some m-movie that Lyra had saved. I'm not really p-paying attention.”
“Okay, want to keep watching it? It's fun being with you. Is it okay that I’m holding your hand?” Marlie spoke softly, hoping to comfort Elliot. She giggled when Dumpling’s whiskers tickled her hand.
“Are-Are you sure?” Elliot asked. “I-I don't want to g-get you sick.”
Marlie nodded. “It’s okay. I've always gotten sick easily but it’s worth it for you.” She smiled at him gently.
“O-Okay then. Um…can-can you h-hold me while-while we watch the movie?”
Marlie smiled and immediately climbed into bed next to him. She opened her arms. “Of course, Bluebell. I'm always happy to hold you.”
Elliot smiled and crawled into her waiting arms. He snuggled into the warmth of her embrace as Dumpling curled up beside the two of them. Just as Marlie repositioned Lyra’s laptop, the sound of her phone buzzing startled them both. Elliot looked up at her, confused. “Who is it?”
Marlie reached over with one hand, keeping her arm around Elliot. “Lyra, they want to know how you're feeling. Are you doing okay?”
Almost as if on cue, Elliot broke into a coughing fit, his lungs and throat burning. He reached for the glass of water Lyra had left him and downed half of it in a matter of seconds. Once he was finished, he wiped his mouth dry and set the glass back onto the bedside table to his left. His voice was raspy and nasal as he said, “N-Not r-really.”
Marlie rubbed his back. She tried her best to comfort him and make him feel better. “Do you have any cough medicine?” she asked after sending a quick text to Lyra.
“I-I'm not sure,” Elliot answered. “B-Broderick was supposed to g-get some, but-but I don't know if he's b-back yet.”
“Want me to text him?” Marlie asked, holding Elliot close and offering the comfort she could.
Elliot nodded. “If-If you don't m-mind.”
Marlie nodded. “I don't mind at all. Want me to keep holding you?” She asked, pulling out her phone to send the text. “Done.”
Elliot nodded. “Y-Yes, please.” He shivered and curled up to her.
Marlie held him close, trying to warm him up.
“Can-Can I have a blanket?”
Marlie nodded, “Of course!” She wrapped a blanket around Elliot, holding him close in her arms. “Now we wait for a response.”
It was a few minutes later that Broderick finally responded, the text reading, “Just picked up some cough medicine. Should be back in a couple minutes.”
Marlie looked at her phone, once again startled by the sudden noise. “Broderick says he'll be back soon.” She sent back a quick response, thanking him.
Elliot nodded. “Th-Thanks, Marigold.”
Marlie held him closer. “Happy to help, Bluebell.”
Elliot was still shivering, though much less so than before. “You're so w-warm.”
“I’m happy you think so.” Marlie smiled, relieved to feel Elliot relax. “Want me to ask Broderick for another blanket when he gets back?”
Elliot nodded. “Yes, please.”
Marlie brushed his hair, knowing how much he liked the feeling. “It should only be a few minutes. He’ll be here soon.”
Elliot closed his eyes and reveled in the gentle touch at the top of his head.
Marlie smiled, humming quietly until she heard footsteps approach the door.
Elliot opened his eyes just in time to see Broderick peek his head into the room. “Hey, guys,” he greeted. “I've got some cough medicine and an extra blanket.”
Marlie smiled. “Thanks.” Not knowing what else to say, she resumed brushing Elliot’s hair.
Broderick stepped into the room, set the medicine beside Elliot's bed, and handed the blanket to Marlie. “How are you feeling, sweet?”
Elliot briefly glanced up at the medic and shrugged. “N-Not great. S-Sorry for-for causing so much trouble.”
“It's no trouble at all, sweet. This is my job. Just take one of those tablets every six hours and let me know if there's anything else I can do for you, okay?” Elliot nodded, and with one last friendly smile, Broderick left the room.
Marlie helped Elliot with his medicine; the tablet being small helped. She wrapped Elliot in the fluffy blanket and held him close.
Elliot cuddled up to her and laid his head in her lap. “Marlie?” He asked.
Marlie responded with a quiet hum, continuing to gently brush Elliot’s hair while he rested his head on her lap.
“Do you think Cedar's m-mad that-that I ruined our date? I-I haven't s-seen him in almost a-a week.” Tears flooded Elliot's ocean-blue eyes as he imagined the worst. “What if he b-breaks up with me?”
Marlie looked at him worriedly. “He's not breaking up with you. He's been trying to find a way to make your date fun while you're sick. I don't know exactly what he's planning but he's been trying lots of Spanish recipes.” She gently brushed his hair.
The worry and fear in the pit of Elliot's stomach didn't fade. “Then-Then why hasn't he come to s-see me?”
“He wants to perfect it. You know how you were going stargazing? He's going to bring the stars to your bedroom. Want to call him to feel better? I'm sure he wouldn't mind. Lyra’s helping him out with the finishing touches.” Marlie softly brushed Elliot’s hair. “It was going to be a surprise so I can't tell you what exactly Cedar’s bringing for food or how he's going to make a stargazing date for the both of you. I just know he's been tracking stuff down at thrift shops and astronomy places.”
Elliot felt even more guilty. “I-I ruined the surprise?”
Marlie shook her head. “Not at all. You know the basics of it but you don't know what Cedar is bringing here. That’s not ruining the surprise.”
“O-Okay,” Elliot said. “Um…when-when is he gonna be here?”
Marlie glanced at her phone. It was around late afternoon or early evening. “About an hour. I think he wants the sun to be down before coming.”
Anxiety swelled in the pit of Elliot's stomach. “Do-Do I look okay?”
Marlie nodded, not wanting to overwhelm him. “You look great. How about putting on a skirt or your new dress if you want. I can do your hair while you're in bed too.”
Elliot nodded and quickly jumped out of bed to go change.
Marlie followed, ready to catch him if he slipped. “Careful, you're still sick. You don't have to dress up a lot. Just do what you can, okay?”
Elliot ignored her concern and quickly scanned his closet for something nice to wear. “I just wanna look nice,” he said. “If he's putting all this effort into a n-nice date, I-I don't wanna look like I've been sick.”
Marlie nodded in understanding, walking over to Elliot to help him find something he liked. “What about your flower dress?”
Elliot examined his black, floral-patterned dress. It hung to his knees and had puff shoulder sleeves. He'd gotten it recently on a trip to the mall and had yet to wear it. “Do-Do you think he would like that?”
“He’d love it.” Marlie smiles at him. She was so happy to see him excited for a date.
“O-Okay.” Elliot grabbed the dress and bolted into the bathroom to get changed.
Marlie waited patiently, petting Dumpling while Elliot changed.
When Elliot emerged, he gave a twirl to show Marlie the whole thing. “What do you think?”
Marlie beamed, eyes glowing at how happy Elliot looked. “You look amazing!”
“R-Really?” Elliot asked, giving himself a once-over in the mirror. “Do you think I need shoes or anything?”
Marlie shook her head, standing next to him. “No, you guys are staying home. Kinda like a movie date but better.”
Elliot nodded, his breathing quickening.
Marlie looked at him worriedly, guiding him to sit. “Bluebell, he wants to bring stargazing inside. You’re safe, I promise.”
Elliot's breathing didn't slow. “I-I just w-wanna be g-good enough for-for him. Wh-What if he doesn’t l-like this? What if he gets m-mad at me for-for being sick? What if he's doing this just to b-break up with me?”
Marlie brought him into a hug, knowing his past relationships were horrendous. “You're perfect to him. Bluebell, he's so happy with you and will love this. He's not mad and he won't break up with you. I promise. Want me around for support?”
Elliot melted into her embrace and tried not to cry into her shoulder. “N-No that's-that's okay. I-I don't want him to-to get m-mad.” Elliot flinched when the distant sound of the doorbell rang. He gasped. “That's-That’s h-him.”
Marlie took his hand. “He wouldn't. Want to walk to the door with me?”
Elliot nodded and shakily reached for her hand.
Marlie gently squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, he’ll be so excited to see you.”
Elliot nodded once more and nervously followed her down to the front door.
...
Marlie opened the door, Dawn helping Cedar carry a box of food.
Elliot's breath caught in his throat. He felt like it had been months since he'd seen Cedar, even though it had only been a week. Anxiety churned in the pit of his stomach at the sight of his tall boyfriend.
“Love? How are you feeling? I'm so happy to see you!” Cedar smiled. “Happy Valentine's day.”
Elliot couldn't help the way his cheeks warmed and the dorky smile that grew across his face. “I'm f-feeling better now. H-Happy Valentine's Day.”
Cedar’s smile matched Elliot’s eyes, smiling as he saw his boyfriend. “Ready to start the date, Love?”
Elliot nodded. “I've m-missed you.”
Cedar set the box down in Elliot’s room, Dawn and Marlie following him. “Same to you, Love. I'm so happy to see you.” Cedar smiled as he opened his arms.
Elliot smiled back and practically collapsed into his boyfriend's strong arms. He had to stand on his tiptoes in order to kiss Cedar, but it was worth it. He just hoped Cedar wouldn't end up sick after this.
Cedar caught Elliot and kissed back. “I love you so much.”
Elliot's cheeks began to ache with how wide he was smiling. “I love you too.”
Cedar’s smile grew. “Ready to start, my Love?”
Elliot giggled and nodded before dissolving into a coughing fit.
Cedar put an arm around him, rubbing his back until it finished. “Do you need to lay down, Love?”
Elliot nodded. “S-Sorry,” he croaked.
Cedar lifted him gently onto his bed. “No worries. How about starting dinner?”
Elliot nodded. “Th-That sounds good.”
Cedar smiled, opening the containers of food that he had brought. “Take your pick, my Love.”
As Elliot's eyes scanned the multiple containers of food, his cheeks warmed. He couldn't believe that Cedar had done all this for him. “I-I can't decide. Everything looks a-amazing. Did-Did you m-make all this?”
Cedar blushed and nodded. “I packed so many. Maybe a little bit of everything? Is that okay with you? I just made our date sick safe, my Love.”
Tears began to prick the corners of Elliot's eyes at the sound of those words. “I-I just can’t believe you d-did all of this for me.”
Cedar gently brushed his tears away, kissing his forehead. “Of course, Love. I knew it would break your heart to miss out and I wanted to see you. I'd come over even if it meant cuddling and falling asleep.”
Elliot's lower lip started wobbling. “Can-Can I have a kiss?”
Cedar replied by gently kissing him, holding him close.
Elliot melted against him, heart pounding. He couldn't believe the lengths his boyfriend had gone just to make him feel special on their first Valentine's Day together. As he looked up into Cedar's forest-green eyes, he whispered, “I may or may not have just gotten you sick.”
Cedar brushed Elliot’s hair. “That’s okay. Seeing your smile makes it worth the chance.”
Elliot's cheeks warmed and he couldn't help the giggle that escaped his throat. “You try to make me blush on purpose.”
Cedar matched Elliot’s smile, chuckling. “I try to make you smile on purpose, my Love.”
Elliot tried to force himself to stop smiling, but it remained stuck to his face. He couldn't help it. Something about looking into Cedar's eyes made him indescribably happy.
Cedar smiled back, happy to see his love smile. “Ready to start eating?”
Elliot nodded, unable to take his eyes off of his boyfriend.
Cedar kissed Elliot’s forehead, serving multiple dishes for the two of them. “How about some candles? I brought some scented ones.”
Elliot nodded, cheeks beginning to ache from the smile that wouldn't leave his face. “That sounds nice.”
Cedar kissed his head gently. “That’s great. I’ll light them.”
Elliot giggled and watched as Cedar lit the candles. As nice as they were, the sudden aromas initiated a round of several sneezes and a few coughs. He reached for a tissue, his face burning with embarrassment.
Cedar looked at him worriedly, rubbing his back. “Do you need anything, Love?”
“Can-Can you hand me my w-water?” Elliot asked as he tossed the tissue into the trash. He sniffled. “I hate being sick.”
Cedar passed the water to Elliot, rubbing his back gently. “I know, Love. It’ll be over soon. I'm just happy I could get everything ready in time for our date.”
Elliot nodded. “I-I was so worried when you d-didn't come to s-see me at all. I thought m-maybe you were b-breaking up with me.”
Cedar kissed his boyfriend’s cheek softly. “I’m sorry I didn't reach out. I wouldn't break up with you, Love.” He felt guilty, knowing how he hurt Elliot.
Elliot nodded again, blushing. “I-I know. I just o-overthink sometimes, I guess. Marlie helped c-calm me down.”
Cedar smiled at him. “She’s good at that. I'm happy you guys have each other. You're amazing.”
Elliot smiled and took a bite of the dinner Cedar had made. He was still in awe of all his boyfriend had done for him. He'd never felt so loved before.
The smile on Elliot’s face made the whole evening worth it. Cedar smiled back, eyes so full of love and adoration.
As Elliot ate his fill and set down his plate, he said, “So, M-Marlie said you were gonna b-bring the stars to me. Wh-What did she mean?”
Cedar smiled, getting up to open a suitcase and take out a few star projectors. He plugged them into the wall and the ceiling mirrored a starry sky. “This is what I did to bring you the stars, my Love.” He kissed his boyfriend’s head, lips brushing his fluffy hair.
Elliot stared in awe at the starry sky projected across the ceiling. Never, in his wildest dreams could he have imagined a date like this. “This-This is the most incredible thing anyone has ever done for me.”
Cedar held Elliot close. “Anything for you, Love. You are the best boyfriend a man could ask for.”
Tears welled in Elliot’s eyes. “Can I have a kiss?”
Cedar brought his boyfriend into a loving kiss.
Elliot melted against him. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so happy, if he ever had before. He felt safe and comforted and so, so loved. In that moment, nothing else mattered; not his illness, not Christian. If only for one moment, Elliot let himself be happy.
-
I hope you enjoyed this! This was so much fun to do because I'm absolutely obsessed with Elliot and Cedar's relationship.
Please be sure to go read Cedar's POV!
Not tagging the taglist because this isn't whumpy Worthless content
#writing#nonwhump writing#fluff#fluff drabble#fluffy Worthless drabble#sickfic#whump blog#whump community#whumpblr#drabble#collab#my first collab!#original story#original writing#original characters#Elliot Cordova#Cedar Nightshade#Marlie Briarwing
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Five times you find an excuse to carry Natasha and the one time she asks
Paring: Natasha x you
Words: 4756
Warnings: some swearing i think
1.
You tenderly grip the side of Natasha's thigh to keep it still as you graze the disinfectant wipe over the shallow cut placed just above her knee, your thumb absentmindedly grazing soft circles across the warm skin.
She was sat on the closed toilet seat clad in nothing but her sports bra and underwear, her hand clinging to both your index and middle finger as her eyes watch your every move.
Scrapes and bruises littered seemingly every inch of her pale skin, marring the already scarred, yet still beautiful canvas that sat before you. Some were sunken in and white, old from years of healing. Some were newer, still pink and raised. Each and every one told a different story. Some of which you knew, but most of which you didn't and probably never would.
You didn't necessarily mind honestly. Because all that you cared about right now was the fact she was letting you take care of her. That she'd allowed you to tenderly undress her without a single word of complaint. You had her trust, and if that's was all she was ever willing to give, it would forever be enough.
Not a single word had been spoken between you since she'd gotten home from her latest mission with Steve just twenty short minutes ago, and you weren't in a hurry to break whatever comfortable silence had settled upon you and you knew Natasha wasn't either.
You give the flesh of her thigh a comforting squeeze when a small, pained hitch of breath emits from the back of her throat at the sting the wipe against her skin, giving the damp skin a soft kiss before covering it with a large bandaid.
You then look up at her from your spot knelt between her legs, content to find her green irises already staring right back at you. They looked exhausted. She looked exhausted, and all you wanted to do was scoop her up into your arms and take her to bed.
The sudden shine of her eyes is what halts you in your tracks.
It was oh so rare to see Natasha cry. To witness her completely drop her walls and allow you to see the true pain she always seems to mask without an issue. It was a sight that has your own throat constricting and without a word, you place your hands underneath her armpits and coax her off of the closed toilet seat and onto your lap.
She straddles you, legs tight around your hips as arms rise to settle around your neck. Your own arms settle around her shaking frame, one hand cupping the back of her head as the other traces soothing circles over the bare expanse of skin.
"I've got you, baby." You finally speak, nuzzling your nose into her neck and taking in soothing scent of slight sweat and vanilla. Your lips press a soft kiss to the skin as you pull away just slightly, tightening your hold around Natasha to reassure her you wouldn't be letting go until she requested it.
She was trembling in your arms, tears hot against your neck, yet her sobs of grief don't make a single sound. Natasha had always been a silent cryer. No matter the circumstance; no matter the situation, it was quiet. All of the time. And you absolutely hated it.
She deserved to feel her grief just as loud and freely as everyone else, yet she fails to agree. She'd never outrightly told you so, but the look in her face as you'd spoken those words had been enough. And so you simply hold her. Love her. Cherish her, hoping that one day she'd realise she deserves the entire world.
Natasha soon stills in your embrace, those once barely audible hitching breaths easing into just quiet sniffles. With a soft kiss to her shoulder to let her know you had her, you place a hand beneath of each of her thighs and haul yourself to your feet.
It was an easy feet considering her slight frame, but that doesn't stop the quiet squeak of surprise that escapes her lips as you bounce her up in your arms slightly to get a better grip, forearms slipping beneath her behind as opposed to her thighs as you carry her through to your shared bedroom.
"I've got you, baby."
2.
"Babe, can you help?!"
At the sound of your girlfriends voice, your eyes instinctively flicker away from the tv and towards the kitchen doorway. You don't wait for her to ask again as you pause the show you were both currently binging before rising to your feet, shuffling through to the kitchen where you were greeted with the sight of Natasha trying, yet failing to reach something on the top shelf of the cupboard.
She was clad in nothing but one of your oversized shirts and underwear, her typical attire after a long day at work.
She jumps, and you couldn't help but snort in amusement when she doesn't even come close to reaching the desired item. She glances back at the sound of your stifled laugh, an unamused look appearing on her face in the form of a pout. Without a word, you walk towards her and cup her cheeks before pressing your lips against the warm skin of her forehead. She all but melts into your touch, and you allow your lips to linger just a few seconds longer than normal because of that.
As you pull away and Natasha falls against your chest, you look up to see the item she'd been attempting to grab was a bag of popcorn. You knew you could easily reach up and grab it for her. After all, you weren't exactly small. But a part of you wanted Natasha to be able to grab it herself. She was miss independent. Always had been and you knew she'd appreciate it if you didn't treat her like she was incapable.
With that in mind, you give her body one last squeeze before bending down and wrapping your arms underneath her backside.
Natasha glances down at you with an adorably confused expression on her face, and you press an affectionate kiss to her clothed chest before standing up straight and bringing her with you. She lets out a undignified yelp at the unexpected action, her arms all but clinging to your head as it settles in between her breasts.
Keeping your arms hooked tightly beneath her butt, you bounce her up slightly wanting her to be able to reach her popcorn without fearing she'd fall.
"What are you doing?" She laughs as she looks down at you. You were greeted with an adorably tiny double chin, and you couldn't help but nuzzle your nose against the soft flesh before gesturing with your head towards the popcorn.
"Grab your popcorn baby." You coax, and Natasha rolls her eyes fondly as she releases you with one arm and successfully grabs her snack. Once it was in her grasp, you don't put her down. You simply allow her to slide down your body so her legs were hooked around your waist. Your arms remain beneath her ass, and you give it a playful squeeze earning yourself a quiet squeak of surprise.
"Snuggle time?" You ask, and Natasha sends you a playful glare before nodding her head and allowing you to carry her back through to the living room.
3.
"Nat? Are you coming to bed baby? It's late and-" the remainder of your words get stuck in your throat when you fully take in the sight that greets you. There your girlfriend was, sprawled out on the gym floor, still clad in her workout gear, fast asleep. She was curled up on her side, hands tucked beneath her chin with legs curled up against her chest.
Slipping into the large room through the small gap you'd created, you kneel down next to her and rest a gentle hand on her bare side. She doesn't make a peep at the touch, telling you that she must be exhausted because Natasha was notoriously known for being one of the lightest sleepers ever.
"Oh baby..." you trial off, unsure as to why she'd allowed herself to fall asleep here when there was a perfectly good bed available just upstairs. It was past eleven at night now, way too late for her to still be working out but getting that into her head was proving to be exceedingly difficult.
You contemplate your next actions for a few silent moments as you stare down at your sleeping girlfriend, not wanting to wake her but unsure if you were able to carry her such a far distance to your shared room. It wasn't that she heavy. In fact, when she was awake you could carry her miles because at least then she was holding up some of her own weight. But she was asleep now, and you knew she'd be a complete dead weight.
Knowing you had no other choice, you carefully manoeuvre her onto her back and situate yourself between her legs before leaning down and placing your chest against her own. Her arms seem to instinctively rise to cling to your shirt, and you couldn't help but smile at the action as you hook one arm beneath her back, placing the hand of the other against the back of her head before easing her into a sitting position.
She was now straddling your lap, head heavy against your shoulder as her hands dangle limply over your shoulders. You take a few moments to prepare yourself before hooking an arm beneath her backside and rising to your knees. Two arms would probably be easier, but you needed that to keep her chest flush against your own so she didn't fall backwards.
With a quiet grunt, you lift one leg so your foot was planted firmly on the padded floor before using all the strength in you to rise fully to your feet. You manage the task with no more than a small wobble, and you silently congratulate yourself as you gently bounce Natasha up into your arms so she'd be more supported.
"What?" You hear her grunt in confusion as her legs instinctively tighten around your waist, and you shush her quietly as you rest a tender hand on the back of her head.
"It's just me, pumpkin. Go back to sleep." You murmur into her ear as you muzzle your nose into her neck, and Natasha let's out a heavy sigh before once again falling limp against you.
Once you were sure she wouldn't wake again, you bring both arms back beneath her behind and begin making your way out of the gym and towards the elevator. You silently curse Tony for making the compound so freaking big as the sliding doors open, arms already aching as you step inside and use your elbow to press the button to the floor your shared room was on.
Natasha, just like you'd suspected, was now a dead weight in your arms, legs limp around your waist and head heavy against your shoulder. You could feel the soft breaths of her quiet exhales against your neck as she sleeps peacefully against you, and you allow yourself to take comfort in the feeling as the doors slide open allowing you to stop out.
The journey to your room was thankfully quick, and you gently bounce Natasha up again so she was at less of a risk of falling when you release her momentarily with one of your arms to type in the code. Soon, you were inside your room, and you let out a quiet sigh of relief as you place one of your knees against the mattress before cupping the back of her head and easing her down onto the bed.
Knowing your next task -stripping her of her tight work out gear and into some comfy pyjamas- would be exceedingly more difficult than the last, you decide to take a few moments and climb into bed next next to her. She seems to instinctively sense your presence, curling up against your chest and throwing one of her legs over your waist, her hand slipping underneath your shirt to rest against the bare skin of your back.
You immediately return the embrace, the hand of the arm acting as her pillow grazing gentle patters against her back whilst your other hand trials affectionately just beneath the waistband of her yoga pants.
With the knowledge that you wouldn't be moving for the remainder of the night, you place a tender kiss to her forehead and murmur a quiet I love you against her hairline before allowing your own eyes to flicker closed too.
4.
When you hear Natasha sigh for the third time in just a few minutes, you force yourself to look away from your book and stare at her with a single eyebrow raised. You were both lounged on the couch, Natasha at one end with her blanket and laptop, and you on the other with your book. You'd both just eaten dinner -Mac and cheese courtesy of Yelena, and you had both taken it upon yourselves to have a few minutes of personal time before you inevitably ended up snuggled together.
When you receive no response to your silent question, you bookmark your place in your book before setting it down onto the coffee table.
"What's wrong miss pouty pants?" You tease affectionately as you poke her with your foot, and the red head sends you an unimpressed glare before seemingly reluctantly bringing her attention back to her laptop. Her hands were frozen on the keyboard, and you could see by the reflection in her glasses that was was working on what appears to be yet another mission report.
Understand her frustration, -because this was the fifth document today, you rise to your knees and shuffle over to her, wedging yourself in between her body and the back of the couch.
Your cheek settles on her shoulder, and though she hesitates, you do eventually feel her cheek come to rest atop of your head. You smile at the action as your arm settles around her waist, fingers creeping beneath her shirt to rest against bare skin.
"When do these need to be in?" You question quietly, and you feel her stomach rise and fall as she takes a deep breath.
"Tuesday." She responds, and you hum in acknowledgement as you reach forward to save the document before closing the laptop.
"What? No! What are you-" she attempts to grab the computer as you reach over to set it on the coffee table next to your book.
"Baby, it's only Friday. You have time." You attempt to assure her as you grab her hand, but Natasha simply shoves you away from her and attempts to make a grab for her computer. Her fingers skim it before you decide enough was enough. Without a word, you rise from the couch, grab Natasha by the underarms and haul her up with you.
She lets out an undignified yelp her chest collides with your own, "What the heck are-"
"No more computers for Natasha today," you interrupt her as you bounce her up in your arms, your arms beneath her backside to keep her supported as you carry her out of the room and up the stairs. She squirms relentlessly throughout the entire journey making it much harder and longer than it needed to be, but you eventually make it upstairs without dropping her on her ass.
"I will kick your ass," she warns in an almost silent growl as you kick your bedroom door open. "Put me down, right no-ahhh!" you toss her onto your shared bed. She glares at you as you climb in next to her, placing a hand on either side of her head.
"What in the actual fu-mhhhfff."
You smirk against her lips when you feel her kiss back without hesitation, knowing you had her right where you wanted her.
5.
Though the sight in front of you was becoming rather amusing, you knew for a fact that if you didn't put a stop to it now, Natasha would hand Tony's ass to him served on a silver platter.
You see, she was sick. And not just a little sick, but a full on fever and flu that had left her so congested she sounded like a duck when she talks. She needed to be in bed. You knew that also, but convincing her was a quiet the fucking task.
You'd attempted to get her into bed, but she'd simply pushed you into it instead, muttering -if you like the bed so damn much, you get in it- underneath her breath before storming out of the room.
Ten minutes later, you were in the meeting room, and the first five minutes had been fine. Natasha had seemingly been able to get herself under control and not a single peep was made. That had changed rather abruptly when Yelena had teasingly poked her sisters red nose, and Natasha, with a sharp glare towards the blonde, had sneezed four times in a row earning herself a look of disgust from Tony.
"Listen red, you're gross and contagious. You're going to make everyone else gross and contagious if you don't get out of here." Tony attempts to be nice about it as he shields himself with a piece of paper, but the damage had already been done if the look of pure anger on Natasha's face was anything to go by.
"You're a man. That automatically makes you gross and contagious. No one likes you and your stupid tin suit so shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you." She growls, and Tony winces as he sends you a helpless look.
You shrug a little helplessly yourself, not knowing what to do without angering the red head further. As they continue to bicker, you feel a poke to your arm. You look over and see Yelena staring at you with a smirk. It was clear to see she was amused also, but there was a hint of concern in her eyes that wasn't hard for you to miss.
"How much do you like your face?" She asks, and you frown in confusion as you glance between the red head and her sister.
"Quite a lot." You admit, and Yelena clicks her tongue in thought for a second before turning back to you.
"I won't be able to carry her myself, but we have more of a chance if it's two against one." She murmurs, and you hum in thought as you watch Natasha take yet another step towards a terrified Tony.
You knew this may be your only option to get her out of here. After all, it was becoming increasingly obvious that she wouldn't willingly leave herself and there was no way you could talk her out of whatever this was when the threat -Tony- was still within close proximity. You couldn't exactly ask him to leave either, because this was his building.
"Okay. I got her arms. You get her legs." You tell her as you shrug off your jacket, and Yelena nods as she rises to feet and shakes out her arms as it preparing for battle. You snort slightly at the sight, but do the same knowing that by the time you're done, you may no longer be alive.
Yes, Natasha was small, but she was still a former assassin, probably stronger than you and Yelena put together. This was not going to be fun for any of you.
With Yelena close behind, you make your way over to Natasha, stopping just a few feet away. Tony see's you and his eyes light up, proving as a temporary distraction for Natasha who looks confused at the abrupt change of emotion.
Without warning, you lurch forward and grab the red head by the waist, trapping her arms beneath your own as you lift her from her feet. An undignified yelp was your response, and Yelena was quick to step in and grab her flailing legs, wrapping her arms around her calves and effectively pinning them against her own chest.
When it becomes clear she was trapped, Natasha squirming ups a tenfold and you grunt slightly as you begin carrying her out of the room. "What the fuck? Let me go! Stop fucking manhandling me you fucking assholes!"
"Thank you Y/n and mini Romanoff. Bye red!" You hear Tony call, any both you and Yelena share a smirk as you successfully manage to carry the unhappy Russian into the hallway.
"No sex for a week! A month! Yelena I'm stealing your vest and setting it on fire! This is not fair! Let me go!"
Yelena looks mildly disgusted at Natasha's words towards you, but when she hears the threat towards her vest, she looks as though she may cry. When she meets your eyes, you shake your head, silently letting her know Natasha didn't mean it, and whilst she seems doubtful, she does nod her own head in understanding.
Soon, you were in the elevator, a much needed break for your arms and legs because this was way worse than any workout you'd ever done.
"Nat, you're sick," you start as you tighten grip around her. By now, she was becoming increasingly close to getting herself out of your grip, and that would not be good for either of you. "You know what Tony's like with germs. And you need to be in bed. Preferably with some medicine and soup. Doesn't she lena?"
Before Yelena could get a word in edgeways, Natasha throws her head back, and it collides painfully with your nose. You immediately see stars at the action, your eyes burning with the familiar sensation of tears that immediately escape and fall down your cheeks.
Fucking hell that hurt. What was her head made of? Cement?!
Natasha, thankfully, seems unaware of what she'd done, but Yelena see's it and cackles. The elevator doors open, and without a word, you yank Natasha's legs out of her grip, set her down onto the floor, press a kiss to her head to let her know it wasn't her you were mad at before storming off.
"Y/n, no! I'm sorry." You hear Yelena cry. "Don't leave me here with her!!!"
It was your turn to laugh. Serves her fucking right.
A week later, you still had two black eyes.
6.
When the clock strikes one AM and there was still no sign of Natasha, you let out a quiet sigh and kick off the blankets before climbing out of bed. You shiver slightly at the coldness that greets you, pulling on the closest hoodie you could find. It just so happened to be one of the many oversized ones that Natasha's owns.
It falls to your mid thigh and just about covers your ass. You smile in amusement the sight, knowing that this very hoodie all but buries Natasha and falls to her knees.
With a fond eye roll at your tiny girlfriend, you leave the room with the intention of figuring out just where she'd disappeared off too. Instinct tells you she was in the very place you'd left her after heading to bed yourself about four hours ago, and when you reach her office, you figure yourself to be correct.
There Natasha was, still sat at her desk, glasses perched on her nose as her tired eyes flicker over her computer screen. Next to her sat at least three empty cups of coffee, and you sigh at the sight, knowing she'd done everything in her power to keep herself awake despite being exhausted.
Pushing the door open further, you step inside and lightly clear your throat to let your presence be known. Natasha looks up at the sound, her lips quirking up into a small smile at the sight of you in her clothes. It didn't happen often due to your size difference, but either way she absolutely adored it.
"Hi baby." she greets tiredly, and you hum as you step closer and perch yourself at the end of her desk. Her hand immediately settles on your thigh, and you set your own on top of it, trailing the pad of your thumb over the soft skin.
"Hi you. How are you getting on?" You decide not to bombard her with the why aren't you in bed question just yet, knowing it wouldn't do either of you any good.
Natasha sighs as she uses her free hand to pull off her glasses, setting them down next to her still open laptop, "Good. Nearly done actually." She tells you somewhat proudly, and you couldn't help but smile as you gently reach forward to cup her cheek before pressing your lips in a tender kiss against the spot between her eyebrows. Her eyes flutter closed at the gentle affection, allowing you to linger for a little while longer than normal.
"It's late pumpkin." Is all you say as you reluctantly pull away, gentle fingers tucking her hair behind her ear, and Natasha sighs quietly as she nods her head. Her eyes flicker between you and her computer, and you sense that maybe there was something she wants to say but can't quite bring herself to do so. Not wanting to push her, or able to read her mind much to your dismay, you simply perch yourself on her lap and wrap an arm around her shoulder.
Knowing this wasn't something you did frequently nor often, Natasha was quick to wrap her arms around your waist and tuck her head just beneath your chin. In response, you cup the back of her head with your free hand, nuzzling your nose against her hair and taking in the comforting smell of vanilla.
About fifteen minutes pass before you feel her breathing deepen signalling she was growing dangerously close to falling asleep, and knowing her bed would be much more comfortable than her chair, you kiss her head before pulling yourself away from her and rising to your feet.
Natasha looks up at you with an unhappy frown as she grabs the material of your hoodie and tugs in a futile attempt at pulling you back down to her lap.
"No baby," you shake your head as you pry her hands off of you, "let's go to bed, okay?" You attempt to coax, and Natasha let's out a rather quiet, unhappy whine as she attempts to reach for you again.
"Nat, baby, bed. Your chair won't be comfortable." You strive to persuade, bending down and cupping her face in your hands. Tired eyes blink back up at you for just a moment before she pouts and holds out her arms, and you go to take her hands, assuming she wanted your help standing up.
Natasha, however, frowns and shakes her head, only furthering your confusion.
"What is it, my love?"
You watch as hesitation peeks in through the sleepiness lingering in her eyes for just a moment before she swallows heavily and once again holds out her arms. Her lips part, a barely audible question slipping through.
"Carry me?"
It was said so quietly, so nervously it was obvious she was scared that you'd say no. Of course you'd never. Not once has she ever asked you to carry her before. Each and every time you'd done so, you'd been the one to initiate it and not a single complaint had ever slipped from her lips.
It leaves you to believe that maybe, just maybe, there had been many times she'd wanted to ask, but was simply just too scared. Heart melting, you place your hands underneath her armpits and tug her to feet.
"Of course I'll carry you baby. You never have to ask." You murmur, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips before bending down slightly and wrapping your arms beneath her behind. You stand, bringing her with you, and almost immediately her legs hook tightly around her waist, arms loose around your neck as her small hands tangle through the baby hair at the nape of your neck.
Keeping one of your arms beneath her for support, you rest the other across her back and begin to carry her out of the room.
"I love you." You hear her murmur, and you smile softly as you give her body a squeeze.
"I love you more than you could ever imagine."
#soft natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#sickfic#natasha romanoff x you#natasha x y/n#natasha romanoff#black widow#fluff#marvel#yelena belova#natasha and yelena
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Give me more shaking whumpees.
Give me whumpees who are shivering so much from their high fever that they can't even hold a bottle of water up to their lips, leaving caretaker to hold it for them like they're bottle feeding a baby animal.
Give me whumpees who've lost so much blood that they're pale and trembling violently, their skin cool to the touch. Their body is desperately trying to keep them warm, but with each new shudder they're just bleeding more and more.
Give me whumpees in shock- whumpees who find out something so emotionally distressing that they can do nothing but shake, eyes fixed on a single point, jolting away from any touch.
Give me more shaking whumpees.
#whump#whump prompts#sicknario#sickfic#sickfic whump#prompts#fever whump#whump prompt#sickfic prompts#shivering whump#shaking whump
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There’s something about a whumpee just sitting down. Not fainting, necessarily. Maybe they’re just about to faint, and they quietly just kneel on the ground at a time and place that doesn’t make sense. They don’t even have the capacity or willingness to articulate why they need to abruptly stop and sit. Maybe they’re catatonic while the others look at them.
Maybe a caretaker can see the dull, vacant look in their eyes and immediately senses that something is seriously wrong. Maybe the fainting comes just a few moments later.
#cold whump#fever whump#physical whump#sick whump#whump#whump prompt#whump tropes#whumpblr#whumpee#illness whump#fainting whump#fainting#whump scenario#whump ideas#hurt/comfort#sickfic#sicknario
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don't you ever see a blorbo and wanna just-
#whump#whump community#whump prompt#whump scenario#whump scenarios#whumpblr#whumpee#caretaker#sickfic#sickfic whump#fever whump#hospital whump#writing memes#oc memes#original character
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