writing-whump
Writing whump
Sol | she/her | 25 | All
hurt/comfort, bromance,
sickfics, emeto, occasional anime and tv shows whump :D Open to role-playing and OC crossovers.
Accepting sickfic requests for OCs!
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Would loveeee to see hector super sick and feverish with a stomach bug where all he wants is to be comforted by Isaiah/Arnie/both- just love his softer side- pretty sure he’s a softie deep down 🤭
Hey nonny! Thank you for the request!! Found a good way to insert it. This will have a part 2 for another request hehe.
Something serious
Hector burst through the door, heading straight for the kitchen without a word of greeting.
Arnie was not taking it personally, but he was curious about what kind of hunger spree made Hector so desperate.
He got up from the couch to check. "Did you skip lunch or-?
Except Hector wasn't riding their fridge. He was braced over the kitchen sink and retching loudly.
"Oi. Okay," Arnie said with a wince as a huge gush of puke hit the bottom of the granite. "What happened to you?"
"Ate-uuurp-too fast." Hector burped up another mouthful before spitting and letting the faucet run over the mess.
"Really? Wasn't something off about the food?" Hector's speed and capacity were way too impressive for this to happen easily.
Hector swiped his wrist over his mouth, sweaty all over.
Arnie tore off a handful of kitchen towels and handed it to him.
Hector took it gratefully, mopping his face and mouth. "I was so hungry at lunch that my stomach hurt. Must have eaten too quick, cause I got queasy on the way." Hector put a hand on his belly as it whined loudly. For puking just a minute ago, his stomach looked distended, as if he was still full.
"Sure it was hunger? Maybe you were getting down with something and ate lunch on top," Arnie sighed, grabbing Hector by the elbow to steer him towards the living room. "How many times do I have to say that you shouldn't eat, when your stomach is hurting?"
Hector was feeling crappy enough to follow Arnie's guidance, flopping down on the couch and curling his hands protectively around his middle. "Ugh. Thought it would help."
Arnie rolled his eyes. ""It's always the same with you—no restraint. Listening to your body's signals could have spared you from all this puking."
Hector huffed. "Stop lecturing, snotnose, and get me some water."
Arnie stuck his tongue at him, but obeyed, getting some cold water from the kitchen, checking if the sink was clean on the way.
Hector gulped down the water greedily, even as Arnie patted his hand. "Slow down, you'll make yourself sick again."
To be fair, Hector tried to slow the tempo before it picked up again. Arnie sat down next to him with a grimace. No helping that.
"You want to watch something and take it easy?" Arnie asked, putting the back of his hand to Hector's forehead. He was a little warm. "I think you should rest. Looks like a flu to me."
Hector, feeling evidently better, swatted his hand away. "And whose fault is that? You're the only flu spreader around. Damn human germs."
Arnie gave him another eye roll. "Your immunity needs some work then, if you catch things that I don't even have symptoms for."
Arnie put on a rerun of Big Bang Theory, which was usually so foreign and boring to Hector that it put him to sleep. And he was right, his older brother was snoring away, head lolling to the armrest, in a few minutes.
After two episodes, Hector stirred though, grimacing with a moan.
"You want a blanket?" Arnie asked quietly as Hector curled into himself, although he could see some more sweat beading on his neck.
"Nah. Think I'm just going to sleep this off in the bed," Hector said, not bothering to muffle a burp as he got up clumsily. His hand shot up to cradle the top of his belly like it was about to fall open.
"You sure you didn't eat something spicy at lunch?" Arnie said, watching him stumble out with another burp. "You get disgusting like that every time."
Hector gave him an angry glare. "I do not. I can handle spicy food."
Arnie snorted. "Yeah, yeah. Tell that to someone who doesn't have to live with you and hear all the consequences."
Hector grunted something crude on his way, which caused Arnie to chuckle.
It wouldn't be unusual in the slightest if he did eat something spicy and then played it off as a flu just to not feel embarrassed.
It would be fine. Hector was a grumpy patient, even if it was the flu, but as long as he stopped eating and took a day off, he would be fine.
Wolves were so senstive to pain. Just a bit of discomfort, and they were all dramatic and moaning. Hector more than most. Physical injuries he got rid of with his shadow, so any sickness, cold, or flu that wouldn't heal had him up in arms and whiny. Arnie had gotten used to not taking it too seriously.
Arnie watched a few more episodes, checking his phone and dozed off on the couch himself.
He went to check on Hector, but he looked peacefully asleep in the bed.
Arnie prepared him a glass of water and a bucket, just in case. Leaving the door open and satisfied with his precautions, he went to his own room, catching the sleeping wave before it was worse off.
...
Arnie woke up to the harsh sounds of throaty retches. Scrambling up a little slow from sleep, he braced himself on the doorframe in Hector's room, switching the small bedside table lamp on.
Hector didn't even get up, hunched over the bed and heaving over the bucket.
What did, however, get up was his shadow. It was sprawling across the wall behind the bed and wiggling uneasily across the floor.
Arnie stepped around it gingerly. Hector's shadow wouldn't hurt him, he knew, but it was a scary big thing to crawl around his feet.
Despite Hector's best efforts, the bucket was basically empty, only spits of yellow bile inside.
Arnie sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed sleepily. Always so dramatic with Hector.
"Hex, you got nothing inside you, you are empty," he said, patting his back.
"Doesn't-doesn't feel like it-" Hector coughed between heaves.
He moaned, clutching the side of his belly as he lay back down, breathing harshly. "That freaking hurt."
"Flu it is," Arnie said with a yawn. "You are heaving even when running on empty."
"Then why the hell does it hurt?" Hector complained, sniffling. Arnie admonished himself for not bringing some more paper towels, too.
"It's normal to get cramps during the flu-"
"No, not crampy" Hector protested through gritted teeth. "It fucking hurts. And the pain travels."
Arnie frowned. "Travels? What?"
"The spot," Hector said, clutching at the right side of his stomach. It was still bloated, even though he had nothing to vomit. Arnie's eyebrows scrunched even more. This was starting to get weird.
"It was in the middle and now it's freaking here and it feels like someone stabbed me," Hector said angrily, just a breath away from whining. His shadow made an aggressive, wavy motion above their heads.
Arnie rubbed at his eyes, much more alert now. "So to sum it up - you felt sick during lunch, thought it was hunger, threw up at home and you were in pain since then?"
"I - I felt kind of off yesterday too, but like...just sluggish? Thought I was tired." Hector rolled onto his back, hands sliding lower on his ride side.
Arnie leaned in closer. "Show me." He gently pried Hector's hands away, lifting up his shirt. His stomach was still so blown up, but he could see nothing on the spot. It seemed too specific for a place though, lower right abdomen...he pushed his hands around, trying to find some kind of physical proof, a bump or swell. Hector didn't protest his poking, eyes closed and pinched.
Arnie was the one with any basic knowledge of human anatomy and complications, since Hector always insisted that were human weaknesses that had nothing to do with him.
Arnie retracted his hands with a sigh, considering writing it off as a cramp lasting too long, when Hector whimpered. Like a real little whimper. He locked his limbs together, arms around his stomach again, tears leaking out. His shadow all but flooded the damn room, swinging angrily from one side to the other at Hector's pain.
"What, what did I do?" Arnie asked in panic, falling to his knees on the floor and taking Hector's forearm in both hands. "Hex? Hex, what-"
Hector twitched under his hands, twisting his face into the sheets as a trickle of bile came out of the corner of his mouth.
"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry!" Arnie said, pressing his forehead to Hector's as his older brother rode the pain out.
Hector said nothing, another little whimper coming up.
Arnie got up as quickly as he could to grab his phone. He dialed up the ambulance and called as he returned, not wanting to leave Hector alone.
"Noooo, no hospital," Hector whined pitifully.
"Yes, we have to," Arnie said in a strangled noise, putting his free hand on Hector's shoulder. "Please. Trust me. This is something serious."
With great effort, Hector pulled a hand away from his stomach and clutched Arnie's forearm, breathing raggedly as they both waited for the medics.
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Would loveeee to see hector super sick and feverish with a stomach bug where all he wants is to be comforted by Isaiah/Arnie/both- just love his softer side- pretty sure he’s a softie deep down 🤭
Hey nonny! Thank you for the request!! Found a good way to insert it. This will have a part 2 for another request hehe.
Something serious
Hector burst through the door, heading straight for the kitchen without a word of greeting.
Arnie was not taking it personally, but he was curious about what kind of hunger spree made Hector so desperate.
He got up from the couch to check. "Did you skip lunch or-?
Except Hector wasn't riding their fridge. He was braced over the kitchen sink and retching loudly.
"Oi. Okay," Arnie said with a wince as a huge gush of puke hit the bottom of the granite. "What happened to you?"
"Ate-uuurp-too fast." Hector burped up another mouthful before spitting and letting the faucet run over the mess.
"Really? Wasn't something off about the food?" Hector's speed and capacity were way too impressive for this to happen easily.
Hector swiped his wrist over his mouth, sweaty all over.
Arnie tore off a handful of kitchen towels and handed it to him.
Hector took it gratefully, mopping his face and mouth. "I was so hungry at lunch that my stomach hurt. Must have eaten too quick, cause I got queasy on the way." Hector put a hand on his belly as it whined loudly. For puking just a minute ago, his stomach looked distended, as if he was still full.
"Sure it was hunger? Maybe you were getting down with something and ate lunch on top," Arnie sighed, grabbing Hector by the elbow to steer him towards the living room. "How many times do I have to say that you shouldn't eat, when your stomach is hurting?"
Hector was feeling crappy enough to follow Arnie's guidance, flopping down on the couch and curling his hands protectively around his middle. "Ugh. Thought it would help."
Arnie rolled his eyes. ""It's always the same with you—no restraint. Listening to your body's signals could have spared you from all this puking."
Hector huffed. "Stop lecturing, snotnose, and get me some water."
Arnie stuck his tongue at him, but obeyed, getting some cold water from the kitchen, checking if the sink was clean on the way.
Hector gulped down the water greedily, even as Arnie patted his hand. "Slow down, you'll make yourself sick again."
To be fair, Hector tried to slow the tempo before it picked up again. Arnie sat down next to him with a grimace. No helping that.
"You want to watch something and take it easy?" Arnie asked, putting the back of his hand to Hector's forehead. He was a little warm. "I think you should rest. Looks like a flu to me."
Hector, feeling evidently better, swatted his hand away. "And whose fault is that? You're the only flu spreader around. Damn human germs."
Arnie gave him another eye roll. "Your immunity needs some work then, if you catch things that I don't even have symptoms for."
Arnie put on a rerun of Big Bang Theory, which was usually so foreign and boring to Hector that it put him to sleep. And he was right, his older brother was snoring away, head lolling to the armrest, in a few minutes.
After two episodes, Hector stirred though, grimacing with a moan.
"You want a blanket?" Arnie asked quietly as Hector curled into himself, although he could see some more sweat beading on his neck.
"Nah. Think I'm just going to sleep this off in the bed," Hector said, not bothering to muffle a burp as he got up clumsily. His hand shot up to cradle the top of his belly like it was about to fall open.
"You sure you didn't eat something spicy at lunch?" Arnie said, watching him stumble out with another burp. "You get disgusting like that every time."
Hector gave him an angry glare. "I do not. I can handle spicy food."
Arnie snorted. "Yeah, yeah. Tell that to someone who doesn't have to live with you and hear all the consequences."
Hector grunted something crude on his way, which caused Arnie to chuckle.
It wouldn't be unusual in the slightest if he did eat something spicy and then played it off as a flu just to not feel embarrassed.
It would be fine. Hector was a grumpy patient, even if it was the flu, but as long as he stopped eating and took a day off, he would be fine.
Wolves were so senstive to pain. Just a bit of discomfort, and they were all dramatic and moaning. Hector more than most. Physical injuries he got rid of with his shadow, so any sickness, cold, or flu that wouldn't heal had him up in arms and whiny. Arnie had gotten used to not taking it too seriously.
Arnie watched a few more episodes, checking his phone and dozed off on the couch himself.
He went to check on Hector, but he looked peacefully asleep in the bed.
Arnie prepared him a glass of water and a bucket, just in case. Leaving the door open and satisfied with his precautions, he went to his own room, catching the sleeping wave before it was worse off.
...
Arnie woke up to the harsh sounds of throaty retches. Scrambling up a little slow from sleep, he braced himself on the doorframe in Hector's room, switching the small bedside table lamp on.
Hector didn't even get up, hunched over the bed and heaving over the bucket.
What did, however, get up was his shadow. It was sprawling across the wall behind the bed and wiggling uneasily across the floor.
Arnie stepped around it gingerly. Hector's shadow wouldn't hurt him, he knew, but it was a scary big thing to crawl around his feet.
Despite Hector's best efforts, the bucket was basically empty, only spits of yellow bile inside.
Arnie sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed sleepily. Always so dramatic with Hector.
"Hex, you got nothing inside you, you are empty," he said, patting his back.
"Doesn't-doesn't feel like it-" Hector coughed between heaves.
He moaned, clutching the side of his belly as he lay back down, breathing harshly. "That freaking hurt."
"Flu it is," Arnie said with a yawn. "You are heaving even when running on empty."
"Then why the hell does it hurt?" Hector complained, sniffling. Arnie admonished himself for not bringing some more paper towels, too.
"It's normal to get cramps during the flu-"
"No, not crampy" Hector protested through gritted teeth. "It fucking hurts. And the pain travels."
Arnie frowned. "Travels? What?"
"The spot," Hector said, clutching at the right side of his stomach. It was still bloated, even though he had nothing to vomit. Arnie's eyebrows scrunched even more. This was starting to get weird.
"It was in the middle and now it's freaking here and it feels like someone stabbed me," Hector said angrily, just a breath away from whining. His shadow made an aggressive, wavy motion above their heads.
Arnie rubbed at his eyes, much more alert now. "So to sum it up - you felt sick during lunch, thought it was hunger, threw up at home and you were in pain since then?"
"I - I felt kind of off yesterday too, but like...just sluggish? Thought I was tired." Hector rolled onto his back, hands sliding lower on his ride side.
Arnie leaned in closer. "Show me." He gently pried Hector's hands away, lifting up his shirt. His stomach was still so blown up, but he could see nothing on the spot. It seemed too specific for a place though, lower right abdomen...he pushed his hands around, trying to find some kind of physical proof, a bump or swell. Hector didn't protest his poking, eyes closed and pinched.
Arnie was the one with any basic knowledge of human anatomy and complications, since Hector always insisted that were human weaknesses that had nothing to do with him.
Arnie retracted his hands with a sigh, considering writing it off as a cramp lasting too long, when Hector whimpered. Like a real little whimper. He locked his limbs together, arms around his stomach again, tears leaking out. His shadow all but flooded the damn room, swinging angrily from one side to the other at Hector's pain.
"What, what did I do?" Arnie asked in panic, falling to his knees on the floor and taking Hector's forearm in both hands. "Hex? Hex, what-"
Hector twitched under his hands, twisting his face into the sheets as a trickle of bile came out of the corner of his mouth.
"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry!" Arnie said, pressing his forehead to Hector's as his older brother rode the pain out.
Hector said nothing, another little whimper coming up.
Arnie got up as quickly as he could to grab his phone. He dialed up the ambulance and called as he returned, not wanting to leave Hector alone.
"Noooo, no hospital," Hector whined pitifully.
"Yes, we have to," Arnie said in a strangled noise, putting his free hand on Hector's shoulder. "Please. Trust me. This is something serious."
With great effort, Hector pulled a hand away from his stomach and clutched Arnie's forearm, breathing raggedly as they both waited for the medics.
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I would love to see Leo and Jonah sick at the same time ^^
maybe one of them has food posioning and the other has been hiding some sort of stomach bug for a while that happens to show it’s face then?
if not that’s fine but would really like to see this!
-🪼
(First time submitting an ask :D)
This was sent before you switched to the 🧋anon tag.
Also requested by @vdoggg!
Food Poisoning - Part 3.
A continuation of Leo's birthday fic. Read part 1 here. Part 2 here.
--------------------
Leo was lying on the bed, curled up and trying to make sense if he was about to puke again, when he heard the front door opening. JD lifted up her head from where she had been happily kneading his thigh and he breathed out.
“It’s just Jon,” Leo grumbled, not moving a muscle. Jonah hadn’t texted him, but Leo had enough sense to figure out who had eaten the missing cupcakes and why he was back earlier than usual.
As if to confirm his point, he heard hurried steps and then the noise of liquid hitting liquid and Jonah’s signature loud burp down the hall, as he probably burst into the guest bathroom. Leo sighed, forcing himself to sit up and waiting a second as the room spun around him.
He had originally thought it was a simple overeating bellyache, even when he puked again as they arrived home, chalking that up to the vestiges of nausea and carsickness. Halfway through the night though, while Jonah was peacefully asleep, Leo was wrecked by the cramps in his lower belly and had given up on that notion as the runs hit him.
Leo felt mildly guilty he hadn’t been awake enough that morning to warn Jonah this was definitely food poisoning, then maybe his fiancee wouldn’t have eaten the cupcakes.
Grabbing on the walls to keep himself upright, Leo made his slow track down the hall and sighed as he found exactly what he had predicted. Jonah curled up in front of the toilet, hugging the bowl with arms, his shoulders hitching with a retch.
“Shit,” Leo sighed, slumping against the door and taking a deep breath to steady himself, “I’m sorry, Jon.”
A burp answered him, followed by more liquid splashing and then a pitiful whimper. Leo slowly entered the bathroom, which was much too small for the two men, and sat down on the cold ground, planting a hand on his fiance’s back.
He didn’t have the energy to rub, but Jonah didn’t seem to mind. After a couple minutes the other man finished coughing and raised a shaky hand to flush the toilet, so Leo grabbed a bunch of toilet paper and passed it to him. He heard Jon blow his nose, then flush again and finally he turned to look at Leo.
Leo cringed, his boyfriend looked damn near gray and his lips were a terrible pale shade. He had sweat beading all over his face, gluing his curls down to his temples, “Jon, are you-”
“Threw up- threw up in front of a patient,” Jonah informed him, in a little strangled voice. He closed his eyes, as if wincing at the memory, “I really don’t feel good.”
“I know,” Leo said truthfully, scooting closer. He couldn’t emphasize enough how much he understood Jon’s plight, given that just walking the short distance between their bedroom and the guest bathroom had caused his nausea to increase all over again, “I’m really sorry, Jon.”
“Not your fault,” Jonah groaned, turning to the toilet once more and spitting in it, planting a hand on his chest and massaging a burp up, “fuck…”
Leo tipped his head back against the cold tiles of the bathroom, trying to ignore the angry gurgling of his belly and how he felt like acid was crawling up his throat. He took a measured breath, gulping down, then startled as he felt a hand touching him.
Jonah let out a small snort at his jerkiness and Leo frowned, taking a second to realize Jonah was checking his vitals. He was being gentle, but the slight pressure on his Adam's apple was not helping Leo gulp down the nausea, so he pulled back.
“What are you doing…?”
“You’re really, really pale,” Jon frowned at him, “when did you last drink water?”
“You’re the one throwing up,” Leo pointed out with a pout, bringing his knees up to his chest, “are you done?”
Jonah shrugged, not reassuring him in the least, “I’m fine,” he said, using the toilet to pull himself up and then promptly leaning over the sink with a deafening retch. Leo scoffed, dizzily rubbing Jon’s thigh since he didn’t feel like he could get up now that he had sat down.
‘You’re fine, uh?”
A wet burp, followed by Jonah letting out a groan and wrapping an arm around his stomach… Then whimpering, “oh no,” and bent on the middle, clutching his belly. Leo raised his eyebrows.
“Jon…?”
“You need- I need you to get out,” Jonah groaned through clenched teeth, “now.”
“What… Why?” Leo tried to pull himself up, only to find that he really couldn’t and Jonah whimpered again.
“Fuck, Leo, I’m gonna shit my pants, get out-”
“I’m trying!” The blonde exclaimed, darting out a hand and grabbing the bathroom sink, in order to pull himself up, since his fiancee was of no help at all. On the contrary, Jonah seemed to have tuned him out, too preoccupied with the sour state of his intestines.
“Leo…”
“I’m-I’m go-” Leo didn’t finish his sentence, because being upright so quickly caused his head to swim, so instead of leaving the bathroom, he clutched the granite of the sink for dear life, breathing through his mouth, ears ringing and black spots dancing in front of his eyes. The queasiness that had been on the back burner until then, jumped up tenfold and Leo couldn’t do anything as he leaned forward and brought up a gush of pale yellow vomit in the basin.
Vaguely he heard Jonah groan and then the noise of his boyfriend falling sit on the toilet, sickness overriding any modesty.
Leo coughed, gasping for air and still white knuckling the sink. It felt like his head was floating. He gagged once more as he heard the noise of Jonah’s intestines emptying out and his fiancee let out a humiliated whine.
“I’m sorry, this is so gross, I-” Jonah all but whimpered, a sound so alien in his voice that it made Leo snap slightly back in reality.
He shook his head, opening the tap and washing away the vomit, before washing his mouth and forcing up a small burp. Leo hung over the sink, unsure if his belly was done with him.
“Jon?” he called after a minute, splashing some water on his face to try to get rid of the woozy sensation that he was about to pass out.
A cough answered him and Leo turned to look at his boyfriend, then groaned in sympathy. Jonah had grabbed the bin and planted it on his lap, as his own stomach joined his body’s attempt at purging.
“Aww angel,” Leo stumbled slightly forward, planting a hand on Jonah’s shoulder and squeezing his nape, “get it up, worst is almost over…”
Jonah’s whole body lurched with a big belch, that brought up another large wave of vomit inside their bathroom bin. Leo brought up a fist to his mouth and muffled a gag, turning his face away. He wasn’t one to get sympathy sick, but this was a gruesome sight when his stomach was already so upset.
He looked up at the ceiling, waiting until Jonah stopped heaving, then dared to glance down as the other man rasped out, “I’m done… I think I’m done…”
“Let me take this,” Leo took a forceful breath and retrieved the bin from Jonah’s hand, planting it on top of the sink and tying the trashbag, “do you need help…?”
“I’d rather die,” Jonah scoffed, wrapping both arms around his stomach and rocking softly, “bloody hell, Leo, it was just… Just two cupcakes, how the hell-”
“I don’t know,” Leo rubbed his face, frustrated, then grabbed the trashbag and fortified himself for the journey of getting out of the bathroom so Jon could get up and shower, “I’m going… I’m gonna give you some privacy. But I’m gonna leave the door open, okay?”
Not that he really could do anything in case Jonah slipped and fell in the shower, considering Leo was barely holding his own weight up. Jon was graceful enough not to mention it, though Leo wasn’t sure his boyfriend was even listening. Instead he was taking little rapid breaths, a sickly little burp sneaking up on him.
“Babe?”
“Bin-” Jonah’s voice was thick with nausea, “Leo- Gimme-”
Leo quickly pulled the tied trashbag out of the bin and passed the empty bucket back to Jonah, thankful that it wasn’t a hollowed out metal bucket like others they had in the house. Jon leaned over it immediately, barely retching before liquid sprayed from his mouth, then his back arched with a more violent heave.
“Jesus,” Leo whispered, starting to panic. This was quite violent and he hated that he couldn’t help as much as he wanted to. His legs were shaking and his own tummy was squeezing and cramping, intestines building a riot inside of him. Leo ignored the horrible sensation of his body revolting against him, in order to plant a shaky hand on Jonah’s shoulder and keep him from falling off the toilet.
After what felt like an eternity, Jonah planted the bin on the ground and his elbows on his knees, groaning, “fuck…”
Leo squeezed his shoulder, “I’m- Uhm- Are you-you done…?”
Jon’s head snapped up and he frowned at Leo’s sluggish sentences. Even exhausted and wrung dry, he hadn’t been losing liquids for as long as the other man had and was more alert.
“Leo, sit down,” he bossed and Leo shook his head, sweat breaking on his forehead and gluing his shirt down.
“Can’t- Don’t feel well…” He forced the words out, “are you okay…?”
“I’m fine,” Jonah stressed, “please, can you just sit down for a minute? I just need to shower-”
Leo nodded, then stumbled back and sat on the threshold between the bathroom and the hallway, whole body going down as if he was a broken doll. Jonah felt the start of panic prickling him, running his options through his mind.
Despite wanting to stay under the hot water for the rest of the day, Jon forced himself to keep the shower to only a minute, wrapping a towel around his hip and ignoring the way his belly was grumbling and whining all over again. He couldn’t even understand how he wasn’t empty yet.
Leo was in the exact same spot, he hadn't moved a muscle. Jonah crouched down, touching his fiance’s pale, slack face and hating the way he could feel Leo’s rapid heart beat.
“You’ve been puking since yesterday, this isn’t good,” Jon sighed, patting Leo’s cheeks, “baby, open your eyes.”
“Gon’besick,” Leo groaned, instead of obeying and Jonah jerked back just in time to avoid getting his arm coated in vomit, as Leo’s head hung and bright yellow bile splashed on his shirt.
Jonah groaned, sympathy sickness making his stomach squeeze and he didn’t have it in him to fight it, he turned his head and gagged. It took forever for his stomach to settle and he could feel Leo was still dry heaving, even without looking.
“We need help,” Jonah said, forcing himself to look at the mess and deciding there was no way he could handle this alone, when his body was hellbent on getting ready of any fluid he had ever consumed.
Leo let out a little whimper as an answer and Jonah made up his mind.
—------------
“Christ,” Luke’s voice was much too loud in their quiet apartment and Jon jerked from the small nap he was taking in the middle of the hallway. He had managed to strip Leo out of his ruined shirt and changed into boxers himself instead of only a towel, but that was it. Moving Leo had been out of the question.
“Leo first,” Jonah opened his eyes, his head was pounding from all the heaving and coughing, “I think he needs a hospital…”
Lucas didn’t argue, crouching down in front of them and touching Leo’s cheeks, patting them softly, “Leo. Leo, hey-” he shook him a little harder, until the blonde let out a groan and opened his eyes. His face immediately twisted into a frown, the cramps hitting him now that he was awake.
“Luke…?” Leo groaned, curling up as much as he could, but Lucas was having none of it. He forced the other man to open up and threw an arm around his neck.
“C’mon,” Luke’s voice came out strained as he managed to pull Leo up on his feet, “couch with you. You need to drink something.”
“Gonna… Gonna go right through-” Leo groaned, his head lolling and he pressed his nose to Luke’s neck, “won’tssstay down- Where’s Jon?”
“He’s fine,” Lucas managed to plant Leo on the couch, then grabbed some cushions and planted them under Leo’s legs, “I brought stuff.”
“What did you bring…?” Jonah tried to get up from the hallway, only to find that he was much weaker than he thought. His face burned with embarrassment as he too had to be hugged by Luke and pulled up.
“Everything the drugstore would sell me without a prescription,” Luke huffed, planting Jonah in the opposite couch to Leo’s and then heading to the door in order to retrieve his grocery bag. He put it down on the coffee table, then removed a gatorade bottle, and five different medicine bottles.
“Here,” Luke handed Jonah two different pills and a bottle of gatorade, “try holding these down.”
“Where’s JD?” Leo whispered from the other couch. He had curled up as much as he could and Jonah winced at the sight of him, throwing Lucas a panicked glance. He didn’t like at all the shade of white Leo had reached.
“What?” Luke asked, walking closer. For Leo he opened the gatorade bottle and stuck a straw inside of it.
The blonde made a face as the straw was pressed to his lips, trying to move away, “she must be starving…”
“I’ll look for JD in a minute,” Lucas ushered him closer, “just one sip, Leo. If you can’t then we’re gonna go to the hospital.”
The vague threat worked, because Leo finally took a gulp. Jonah watched him anxiously, already so familiar with the way his boyfriend worked that he fully expected to see the drink come up within seconds. When that didn’t happen, he allowed himself to fully collapse against the couch’s cushions.
“How long has this been going on?” Lucas’ voice was distant, followed by a meow and then his footsteps. JD meowing louder. Jonah turned his head, fighting valiantly the urge to go to sleep and scoffed as he saw Luke clutching JD in his hands.
“Don’t squeeze her like that,” he glared at the other man, while from the opposite couch Leo let out a pained groan.
“Luke-” It was a whimper, and then Lucas dropped JD and lurched just in time to catch the mouthful of gatorade in the crumpled groceries paperbag. Jonah squeezed his eyes to avoid looking at the mess, feeling even worse that he was so useless.
His own stomach churned uneasily and Jonah rolled on his side, focusing on breathing in and out and not on how awful he felt that he couldn’t be of any comfort or help as Leo continued to dry heave.
“Fuck,” Lucas said and Jonah dared to open his eyes. Leo had fallen against their friend, white as a corpse, and not even fighting it as Luke wiped his lips with his thumb, puke be damned.
“Hospital,” Jonah bossed, even dizzy as he was, “take him.”
“Yeah,” Luke nodded, carefully pushing Leo against the couch’s back, “Bella is coming over, she just stopped to buy us food. We’ll wait for her.”
“Nooo-” Jonah shook his head, then his stomach clenched violently and he gagged, but all that fell on the floor was a clear line of spit, “don’t-”
“I’m not leaving you alone,” Lucas said harshly, crossing the room and forcing Jonah to sit up correctly, then grabbing a bucket and pushing it on his lap, “and Leo’s not gonna die in the fifteen minutes it’ll take her to get here. Chill.”
“Can’t…” Jonah mumbled miserably, too tired to hide how raw he felt, when Leo was this sick. He felt like crying and probably would have, if he wasn’t so dehydrated, “can’t chill.”
Luke’s frown softened up, replaced by all concern and sympathy and he crouched down in front of Jonah, grabbing the gatorade bottle once more, ‘yeah, I know, man. But I’m looking out for both of you. You trust me?”
Jon hesitated, then nodded, refusing to meet Luke’s eyes and the other man pushed the cold bottle in his hand, “take another sip. Bell is nearly here, I’m going to pack Leo a bag.”
True to what Luke had said, not more than ten minutes later, Bella entered the apartment. She was carrying another set of groceries and in true pragmatic fashion didn’t spare them even a look, heading straight to the kitchen to empty their fridge of the possibly tainted food and repack it.
“Okay,” Luke walked back to Leo, with a backpack around his shoulder, “let’s go, Leo.”
“Jonah…” Leo mumbled dizzily, burying his face in Luke’s chest, “Jon’s sick too-”
“I know, but he’s in better shape than you,” Luke grunted, pulling Leo up and stumbling a little, “Bell will stay here to keep him company.”
“JD-”
“She’s fine,” Bella said softly, rushing ahead to open the door for them and picking up the cat when she tried to sneak past her legs. The woman held up the kitten so Leo could see it and he blinked blearily, clearly feeling too awful to string things together.
“She’s hungry…”
“I’ll feed her,” Bella vowed and Luke huffed, tightening up his hold on Leo as the blonde started to slip down.
“Everything is fine here, we’re gonna be back in no time,” Luke promised, dragging him away. Finally they were alone, Jonah and Bella, and Jon let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He curled up even more on the couch and almost smiled when JD jumped from Bell’s arms to come pester him.
“That’s some food poisoning,” Bell wrinkled her nose, walking closer, “how you holding up, Jon?”
“Not well,” Jonah leaned his head against the couch’s arm. He didn’t say it out loud, but he felt an immense relief at knowing Leo was on his way to getting fluids. He didn’t think he needed to say anything to Bell, she always seemed to just know.
“Did you throw up the meds?”
“Nope,” he planted a hand on his unsettled, bloated stomach, “but I might.”
“Well, try not to,” Bella rolled her eyes, then dangled her fingers for JD, “pspspsps, let’s have dinner, poor thing. You must be starving.”
Jonah stayed quiet as he heard Bella move around in the kitchen, serving JD her food and sorting through the mess. He continued to sip on his gatorade, only to find that had been a mistake when a sharp burp brought up a splash of acidic liquid to his throat.
“Fuck me,” Jon groaned, curling up and trying to massage the burps out of his belly before he ended up wasting all the hard work to keep down his meds.
“Don’t do that,” Bella circled the coffee table, holding a tall mug filled with coffee for herself. She unceremoniously pushed his leg to the side so they could share the couch and leaned in, slapping Jonah’s hand away from his belly, “let me.”
“Bella…” Jonah’s face burned with embarrassment, which got even worse when she pressed her fingers against his sloshy, bloated belly and it immediately caused a sick burp to erupt.
Bell rolled her eyes, smirking at him, “relax, I promise I’m not gonna tell anyone.”
Jon scoffed, cupping his mouth and belching again, his throat aching with the force behind it, “please.”
“Maybe just Leo,” Bella grinned, sliding her hand over the curve of his sick belly and chuckling when Jonah let out a groan at her threat.
#wow#this is stunning#what a saga of food poisoning#I was so curious how the boys would handle it and I'm blown away by how concerned for the other they were the whole time#Leo barely getting up and trying to help#Jon so in pain but checking his vitals and bossing him to sit down#Leo too weak to even leave the bathroom poor things#Jon never whimpers like that 🥺#when they were setting each other off with the gagging and decided to get help I was so relieved#and then Luke and Bell to the rescue#Leo's head lolling into him and all he can string up is Jon Jon Jon#and JD poor little moew#love how Bella promised so seriously to feed her#Jon feeling so close to tears he can't even help#Luke being like trust me okay and I'm not leaving yoh Alone like this#love this quiet understanding between Jon and Bells#they are both so pragmatic not beat around the bush types it's sweet#how she comes to rub his belly and he is emebrassed but allows it? when we know how senstive that is to Jon with touch?🥺🥺🥺#love love love#if this has a closure fic that would be fun too👀#they just went through hell and back with the cupcakes#brutal#but they have each other's backs#sickfic#other people's writing
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i literally need: your sarcastic cold behaviour unemotional boy best friend that smh wants comfort when they’re unwell but not talking getting a bad tummy ache that has them desperate for cuddles and tummy rubs
ok this is like my favoritest thing everr i Adoreeee cold stoic guy being all soft for tummy rubs [writing these from the perspective of the friend] [more focused on the setup than the tummy rubs since ultimately theyre all going to the same place]
Your character is generally very un-expressive and thinks they're good at hiding their pain. They aren't. There's a marked difference in their behavior. Each time their friend asks if they're okay, they try to dismiss the question, but there's a definite pleading look in their eyes that's practically begging for attention, even though they hate showing weakness. At what point does their friend finally decide enough is enough and make them accept some care?
Your character never admits when something's wrong, even when it's plainly obvious. It is, in fact, very plainly obvious that they're not feeling good today, and they aren't even particularly trying to hide it. Finally, their friend asks what's the matter, and they reluctantly admit that their belly hurts. Their friend is both surprised and worried by their willingness to tell them and immediately jumps into caretaker mode.
Your character isn't one for physical affection, or any affection for that matter. Their belly is aching badly, though, and they want nothing more than to curl up and have their tummy rubbed. After powering through for a while, they finally cave to the pain and softly lay their head on their friend's shoulder, much to the friend's surprise. How does their friend respond?
Your character's belly has been upset all day, and their friend can tell. The friend doesn't want to make a big deal of it, knowing your character likely wouldn't respond well, but eventually they feel too sorry for them to let it go any longer. They take your character into their arms and give them a gentle tummy rub, and, to their astonishment, your character snuggles right up as though they'd been waiting for it.
Your character is a snarky little bitch and always has some comment to make. Their friends are used to this; they anticipate it. That's why it's so noticeable when your character keeps their mouth shut for once. Their friend grows increasingly concerned by their uncharacteristic quietness as the day goes on, trying to figure out what's the matter until they finally have to ask. Does your character answer honestly?
Your character tends to hide their pain like a cat, not wanting to show any vulnerability. When they come down with an awful tummyache, though, it gets difficult to keep up their stoic appearance. Eventually, the unhappy gurgling of their aching belly gives them away, and their friend immediately starts fussing over them. Does your character lean into it right away, or does it take a minute to let themself open up?
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I'm in the fluffiest mood lately, so how about a no stakes sickfic. Movie night and the trip (Matt, Sel/Zaya) are home and decide to put on something like spiderverse or smth else, point being, either Isaiah or Matt gets super motion sick from it
Something fluffy it is. Thank you for the ask, Soup!!💙
Cinema sickness
The middle position was the best.
Matthew didn't notice when exactly they started to fight for it like that, but it was increasingly a place one of them got as special treat.
Like of course, when Isaiah was having his not so heart episodes that Seline still didn't know the cause of or when he was emotional. Then it wad Seline herself with a fever. She also usurped the spot most openly when she was well.
Matthew was a little too emebrassed to be that forward. Not when he was feeling fine.
They bought a camera projector they have been saving for a few months. Seline dreamed about the home cinema early on and Isaiah was such a movie buff, it was only to be expected.
Matthew found the cinema experience tiresome because of all the people, so their own private living room cinema because of the projector? Sounded fun. Though the cinema made for good people training.
"You guys didn't watch the second Spiderverse movie yet, right?" Seline said, taking control of the chromcast with her phone to put it on.
"I didn't see the first one either," Matthew grumbled as she climbed up between him and Isaiah who was scrolling through IMDb. He had a thing for ratings, while Seline loved comments and spoilers.
Matthew considered himself the only sane and commonly invested movie person. He liked to get surprised.
"The animation is out of this world. The first movie got an Oscar for it too, but they went overboard and beyond with the second. Each universe has a different animation style! It's the perfect movie for a cinema." Seline waved her phone in front of Matthew enthusiastically.
"Isn't animation for children?"
Isaiah and Seline both gave him scandalised looks. "In what hole did you live until now for such an outdated opinion?" Isaiah asked teasingly.
Matthew rolled his eyes. Didn't look like he would have a say today.
"I don't think you need the first one to understand," Seline said thoughtfully as she put the movie on. "They explain it pretty well, plus I can always explain things to you if you need it."
"You are still more of a fan of the first one, aren't you?" Isaiah said, bumping against her. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder, all three of them.
"I think the character development is simply better there? Also the relationships. The focus on bad mentor and a confused kid and different father figured...this one goes more into the romance storyline-"
"The focus just shifts from him to her's all-"
Matthew shook his head. "Alright, quit it. I want to see for myself."
The movie looked like a very expensive video game. The animation really was something else. Matthew understood quickly they would not be able to film stuff like this for real.
So many colours and so much quick movement. Their living room wall was basically flickering, going from one side of the colour spectrum to the next at rapid speed that had his head spinning.
How could there be so much happening on the screen? It was downright impossible to catch it all.
His eyes felt tired from it. It was all so fast and coupled with the music it was downright aggressive.
Matthew didn't notice when, but the left side of his head felt like someone held it in a vice grip. The more he watched and tried to make sense of what was happening, the more his left temple pounded in unison with his heart.
He found himself shaking his head to clear his vision, rubbing at the side of his face. He even tried closing one eye and then the other. But the images just kept coming and there was some kind of dramatic scene with spidermen all over the screen and damn, his head really hurt.
Seline was leaning her head against Isaiah's shoulder, her legs stretched out and touching them both. Her lap seemed very inviting.
Matt leaned to the side experimentally. He wanted to go slow and see how that would be taken, but the possibility of getting some cover from the screen was getting more irresistible by the second.
He slumped down into Seline's lap, twisting so his face was against her stomach. The lights were all over the living room, reaching even to the windows and the kitchen. No hiding from them.
Matthew closed his eyes, face buried in Seline's belly. He secured her from squirming with his arm over her torso, stretched out all the way to Isaiah's tight. If the other wolf wanted to protest or made any move of displeasure, Matt would quickly notice from that position.
His head hurt. Why just the left side of his face? It was tingling.
Everything was moving too much. The dizzying spinning sensation didn't quite go away, although he had his eyes squeezed shut and wasn't looking.
Not to mention he was starting to feel vaguely queasy, his dinner sloshing in his stomach angrily.
"Mattie, you aren't watching," Seline admonished softly. Her hand went into his hair though, petting it softly. He melted under her touch, grateful for a pleasant feeling to focus on.
Suddenly there was the incredible sound of the movie stopping.
"Matt? You tired?" Isaiah asked, shifting somewhere behind his head.
"Mhhhhhhhhmmmm." Was he that obvious? Suspicious? He wanted to stay huddled there in the softness, thanks.
Isaiah's hand landed on his arm. The older wolf reserved his touches for when Matthew felt sick. But they were so physically close these days, because of Seline of course, no other reason, Matthew kind of craved it, even when he didn't need it.
Or maybe it would count now. But he didn't want to ruin the celebratory mood by being a baby. It was a stupid children's movie, for God's sake.
"We can just call it a night, I think. Continuation tomorrow," Isaiah suggested, ever the peace keeper trying to accommodate everyone.
It sounded nice to not continue the movie in any case. But going to bed created a new set of problems.
Matthew would have to move.
Seline wiggled under his head. "You are heavy," she said playfully. She seemed more open to the gesture than Matthew expected. For no reason at all.
Matthew hummed non-committalally not sure how to explain or escape his predicament without losing his dinner. His stomach was churning angrily and his head was still pounding, sound or not.
Isaiah chucked. "You can sleep here for all I care, but at least let the lady get her PJs."
Matthew huffed at that, but opening his mouth wasn't a good idea. A little burp escaped, muffled against Seline's ribcage.
Seline's fingers in his hair stilled. "Mattie? You feeling alright?"
Did she notice that he got burpy when he was about to spew? He could just be full. Damn it all, the risks of living with people so closely.
Another burp, this time a little louder and wetter. Matthew pressed his face closer into Seline's shirt. It smelled of rain and ozone and grapefruit.
He felt both of their gazes on him without looking. They were probably mouthing something to each other at this point. He could picture it vividly.
The pain in his left temple spiked and he moaned quietly.
Seline's cold hand cupped his nape, stroking his neck up to his cheek where she could reach.
"...If I move, I'll hurl," he admitted finally, figuring he should inform her of the danger she was currently in.
The sigh came from Isaiah though, as the raven haired man moved gently away from the sofa into the direction of the kitchen.
"What's wrong? Is your belly upset?"
Jesus, that sounded childish when she said it like that. Not to mention that weird new Mattie nickname.
"Headhurtss," he manged to get through his gritted teeth, still entirely muffled against her stomach. It was quiet, churning only gently, like a purring cat.
"Has it been hurting for long?" She sounded amazingly calm considering he was lying across her lap. "You seemed fine to me," she said with puzzlement. He could imagine the way her forehead creased, a little wrinkle between her eyebrows as she thought back about the evening.
He opened his mouth the respond, but another burp rushed out instead. Pocket of air against her stomach. Saliva was flooding his mouth.
Matthew loosed his hold on her reluctantly, turning so he would be lying on her knees. He covered his eyes with his hands. "Ow."
Seline placed her hands on both sides of his face. "Where?" Her voice was impossibly soft.
He pushed her cool hand - how was it so cool? - against the left side of his forehead.
He felt more than saw two of her fingertips on his temple, making tiny circular movements against it. She bowled over him, her lips hovering over his ear. "How is this? Should I stop?"
"No, that's nice," he said, relaxing a little. The gentle pressure felt good against the pain, though his stomach was still roiling.
Isaiah came back then, the sofa dipping under his weight as he knelt on Matthew's other side. "I got a bowl if you need it."
"Not the nice popcorn bowl, come on," Seline complained, lifting her head.
"It's big and deep," Isaiah protested, sounding amused.
Matthew groaned at the banter. The headache was giving away a bit at the message, but the nausea rose steadily no matter what he did. He felt air in his throat and spit flooding his mouth. He didn't want to move away from Seline's fingers or the attention, but his stomach cramped angrily then.
It had him shooting up into general direction of up. Except he felt dizzy right away, swaying and moaning.
Isaiah grabbed his shoulder to steady him.
Matthew held his eyes shut against the spinning of the room, trusting him to have the bowl at the right place, cause he couldn't aim. His head exploded on his left side with the sensation and puke rocketed into his mouth.
He was right to trust him. The vomit made a splashing sound against the bowl without him even looking, Isaiah holding it under hid chin.
Seline's hands came to cup his forehead from behind. "You are okay, you are okay. Just get it up."
Matthew gave in to his body completely then, a little more voluntarily at the support. His senses were all over the place. He couldn't tell which was was up and down and his left side of the face as pounding and burning from warmth.
More waves of vomit came, easier to bring up now that he wasn't fighting it. When he thought he would catch a break, a loud burp brought in one more splash and then two more. His back arched, only Isaiah's hold on his shoulder keeping him upright. The sofa was moving like a water bed.
When he was finished, he spat the rest of the foul taste and slumped blindly back into Seline's lap. He wanted her nice scent and her cool hands and the little message against his temple that had a drilling machine against it.
"Better now?" she asked, her hands on his face just like he wanted, stroking his cheek and forehead.
"Mhhhhhhhhhmmmm." There was a relief from the nausea, but he was still afraid to open his eyes.
He could vaguely sense Isaiah's movements as he got rid of the bowl, returned to position it next to Matthew. Then circled around, fitting himself into the opening between Matthew's side and the sofa.
Matthew wasn't sure when vomiting because a group activity, or if he shouldn't apologise or feel embarrassed for making a fool of himself.
He sighed contendly as Seline went back to massaging his temple. Isaiah was rubbing his arm gently, as if to remind him he was there.
And who was Matthew to refuse the middle spot?
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Uploading the color and B&W version of this. It’s a scrapped concept sketch for my experimental MHA comic (posted a few weeks ago.) Thought I’d share.
Oh, and the reason they’re not using their quirks to blast out of there? Quirk suppressants (or something). I decided not to put Kaminari in the comic version because I was having trouble writing him.
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Oh no, this ask (from a couple minutes ago) started to live it's own life in my head. 🙃
Because i have impression Matthew's relation to his family is opposite than the Isayah's one - there is no way back, no reunion, and those fuckers don't deserve him. And now Matt has his found pack/family. 🥺
(however i'm hoping for Marcella in a far future).
(you can ignore this message, or treat it as an ask about lore/plans. Whatever you want. It's a middle of the night and my head is full of wolves, sorry 😅)
Awoooo. 🐺
Hey nonny!
Your impression is entirely correct!! Matthew's family doesn't deserve him. Maybe there will be some mending with Melissa and Marcella in the future, or the other sisters, but his mother and pack are very difficult deals of their own.
This is such a sweet ask 😍🐺 thank you so much for sending this. I'm so so honoured the wolves run around in your head like that 🥰💙
Found family pack for the win for sure!!💙💙💙
#ask#myocs#comments#thank you so much🥺😍🥰#I love getting asks like these today was amazing for getting so many and hearing from you guys!!
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Hey Sol! Wonder if you could either talk about or direct me to one of your earlier fics about the relationship between Isaiah and Matthew as it concerns Seline? Isaiah is obviously indulgent and tolerant of Matthew's relationship with her - maybe even encourages it as part of Matthew's growth and learning control? And I don't get the impression Matt feels any romantic feelings towards her - she's a source of comfort but also something he wants to protect the best he can, right?. Was it always that easy for them? Has Matthew ever had romantic feelings for anyone? Will he? Thank you as always for your answers and your wonderful story that lets me get lost in the world you've created.
Hey Lis!
These are super interesting questions. I love your observations about how Matthew comes off as not having romantic feelings or that Isaiah seems to be so indulgent and tolerant of Matt and Seline's closeness.
There isn't a fic that deals specifically with this as an articulated point. Isaiah brought Matthew to Seline (Unexpected guests) for help, because he knew they were both lonely, in danger because of their packlessness and because he needed help and trusted her with Matthew. Then Matt and Sel had to find their own way to each other (Witch in trouble + Stomach flu) and deal with Seline's fear of explosiveness and shadows and Matthew's temper and shadow control problems (Sick from fear).
So you are absolutely right that Isaiah sees and encourages their relationship as part of Matthew's path to better control.
It also hangs together with the whole pack dynamic. Wolves are naturally drawn to witches and their calming effect on their shadows. Witches are also considered rare and precious by wolves, very dearly protected and cared for. Matthew had always so much trouble with his control that he wasn't allowed contact to witches in any pack (wasn't allowed to climb the rank to get that high). So his bond and closeness with Seline is him finally having that with a witch, a witch that accepts and knows him and trusts him - a witch in his own pack.
Their affection is more natural? acceptable? in pack terms. Shadow wolves are very sensitive to touch. Whatever they are touching is theirs, what smells like them is theirs, what is on their territory or touching their things is theirs. Members of the same pack can be close and share these things, but it still depends on living arrangements, size of the pack, alliances, factions inside the pack.
Isaiah's pack is special because it's so small and compact and because they live together. The living together is a huge thing for wolves - the place is their territory, layer, possession. By sharing living quarters with wolves Seline necessarily becomes someone who they both feel like belongs to them.
Honestly, the whole belonging and possessive instinct affects all three of them very strongly. Wolves don't go around touching people causally. Every gesture, distance, nod, eye contact, stance expresses something, the rank, the power of the shadow, the relationship between the packs and the wolves themselves. Touch is the most intimate trustful thing that most wolves can't tolerate from anyone, but their closest family and closest members of their pack. They can almost exclusively accept it from their pack members only. Any other touch is uncomfortable if not downright insufferable.
So this whole closeness between the trio very much relates to them 1) being a pack, 2) with few members 3) all three of them having problems with their packs before 4) being roommates.
The mere fact they live together makes Matt and Isaiah's shadow very very accepting of each other's touch and closeness, to the point they almost require it to function healthily. Seline doesn't have a shadow that would make her feel like this, but she gets her magic from contact with wolves, so she is also drawn to physical touch with them. The better the relationship of the witch with the wolves she touches, the more magic she can take from their shadows. This works wonderfully for the trio. And Seline doesn't just find it useful, but as of now very comfortable.
As for Matthew having romantic feelings for someone, I'm not sure. He currently doesn't have anyone like that in his life and it would be very difficult to develop this outside the pack because of the touch thing. He feels so closely bonded to his smallish pack, intimate or physical relationships outside of it feel wrong. (I want to explore and show this more on Hector and his treatment of Olive - someone outside the pack that he has to built a tolerance for, attraction or not.)
So I don't really know what the future will bring. There was the idea of the trio being together, maybe Matt will find someone else he will built extra tolerance and relationship to, maybe he will be happy on his own or with how the things are now.
It's super interesting to hear what your impressions were and what you think feels right or wrong for him, so thank you for asking this and making me think!💙✨️
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I absolutely love feverish Matthew. I just love how clingy he becomes and it is almost as if he becomes childlike. And then Isaiah as caretaker is amazing because he is there for Matthew and soooo sweet😍
So point being I cant wait to have another feverish Matthew fic...
~🌼
Hehe, Matthew is a real marshmallow when he is feverish. 😍 Or sick or troubled in general.
Wish heard loud and clear✨️will be looking into it.
Thank you so much for reading and for your kind words!!💙✨️ Made me super happy to find this in my inbox.
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I'm in the fluffiest mood lately, so how about a no stakes sickfic. Movie night and the trip (Matt, Sel/Zaya) are home and decide to put on something like spiderverse or smth else, point being, either Isaiah or Matt gets super motion sick from it
Something fluffy it is. Thank you for the ask, Soup!!💙
Cinema sickness
The middle position was the best.
Matthew didn't notice when exactly they started to fight for it like that, but it was increasingly a place one of them got as special treat.
Like of course, when Isaiah was having his not so heart episodes that Seline still didn't know the cause of or when he was emotional. Then it wad Seline herself with a fever. She also usurped the spot most openly when she was well.
Matthew was a little too emebrassed to be that forward. Not when he was feeling fine.
They bought a camera projector they have been saving for a few months. Seline dreamed about the home cinema early on and Isaiah was such a movie buff, it was only to be expected.
Matthew found the cinema experience tiresome because of all the people, so their own private living room cinema because of the projector? Sounded fun. Though the cinema made for good people training.
"You guys didn't watch the second Spiderverse movie yet, right?" Seline said, taking control of the chromcast with her phone to put it on.
"I didn't see the first one either," Matthew grumbled as she climbed up between him and Isaiah who was scrolling through IMDb. He had a thing for ratings, while Seline loved comments and spoilers.
Matthew considered himself the only sane and commonly invested movie person. He liked to get surprised.
"The animation is out of this world. The first movie got an Oscar for it too, but they went overboard and beyond with the second. Each universe has a different animation style! It's the perfect movie for a cinema." Seline waved her phone in front of Matthew enthusiastically.
"Isn't animation for children?"
Isaiah and Seline both gave him scandalised looks. "In what hole did you live until now for such an outdated opinion?" Isaiah asked teasingly.
Matthew rolled his eyes. Didn't look like he would have a say today.
"I don't think you need the first one to understand," Seline said thoughtfully as she put the movie on. "They explain it pretty well, plus I can always explain things to you if you need it."
"You are still more of a fan of the first one, aren't you?" Isaiah said, bumping against her. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder, all three of them.
"I think the character development is simply better there? Also the relationships. The focus on bad mentor and a confused kid and different father figured...this one goes more into the romance storyline-"
"The focus just shifts from him to her's all-"
Matthew shook his head. "Alright, quit it. I want to see for myself."
The movie looked like a very expensive video game. The animation really was something else. Matthew understood quickly they would not be able to film stuff like this for real.
So many colours and so much quick movement. Their living room wall was basically flickering, going from one side of the colour spectrum to the next at rapid speed that had his head spinning.
How could there be so much happening on the screen? It was downright impossible to catch it all.
His eyes felt tired from it. It was all so fast and coupled with the music it was downright aggressive.
Matthew didn't notice when, but the left side of his head felt like someone held it in a vice grip. The more he watched and tried to make sense of what was happening, the more his left temple pounded in unison with his heart.
He found himself shaking his head to clear his vision, rubbing at the side of his face. He even tried closing one eye and then the other. But the images just kept coming and there was some kind of dramatic scene with spidermen all over the screen and damn, his head really hurt.
Seline was leaning her head against Isaiah's shoulder, her legs stretched out and touching them both. Her lap seemed very inviting.
Matt leaned to the side experimentally. He wanted to go slow and see how that would be taken, but the possibility of getting some cover from the screen was getting more irresistible by the second.
He slumped down into Seline's lap, twisting so his face was against her stomach. The lights were all over the living room, reaching even to the windows and the kitchen. No hiding from them.
Matthew closed his eyes, face buried in Seline's belly. He secured her from squirming with his arm over her torso, stretched out all the way to Isaiah's tight. If the other wolf wanted to protest or made any move of displeasure, Matt would quickly notice from that position.
His head hurt. Why just the left side of his face? It was tingling.
Everything was moving too much. The dizzying spinning sensation didn't quite go away, although he had his eyes squeezed shut and wasn't looking.
Not to mention he was starting to feel vaguely queasy, his dinner sloshing in his stomach angrily.
"Mattie, you aren't watching," Seline admonished softly. Her hand went into his hair though, petting it softly. He melted under her touch, grateful for a pleasant feeling to focus on.
Suddenly there was the incredible sound of the movie stopping.
"Matt? You tired?" Isaiah asked, shifting somewhere behind his head.
"Mhhhhhhhhmmmm." Was he that obvious? Suspicious? He wanted to stay huddled there in the softness, thanks.
Isaiah's hand landed on his arm. The older wolf reserved his touches for when Matthew felt sick. But they were so physically close these days, because of Seline of course, no other reason, Matthew kind of craved it, even when he didn't need it.
Or maybe it would count now. But he didn't want to ruin the celebratory mood by being a baby. It was a stupid children's movie, for God's sake.
"We can just call it a night, I think. Continuation tomorrow," Isaiah suggested, ever the peace keeper trying to accommodate everyone.
It sounded nice to not continue the movie in any case. But going to bed created a new set of problems.
Matthew would have to move.
Seline wiggled under his head. "You are heavy," she said playfully. She seemed more open to the gesture than Matthew expected. For no reason at all.
Matthew hummed non-committalally not sure how to explain or escape his predicament without losing his dinner. His stomach was churning angrily and his head was still pounding, sound or not.
Isaiah chucked. "You can sleep here for all I care, but at least let the lady get her PJs."
Matthew huffed at that, but opening his mouth wasn't a good idea. A little burp escaped, muffled against Seline's ribcage.
Seline's fingers in his hair stilled. "Mattie? You feeling alright?"
Did she notice that he got burpy when he was about to spew? He could just be full. Damn it all, the risks of living with people so closely.
Another burp, this time a little louder and wetter. Matthew pressed his face closer into Seline's shirt. It smelled of rain and ozone and grapefruit.
He felt both of their gazes on him without looking. They were probably mouthing something to each other at this point. He could picture it vividly.
The pain in his left temple spiked and he moaned quietly.
Seline's cold hand cupped his nape, stroking his neck up to his cheek where she could reach.
"...If I move, I'll hurl," he admitted finally, figuring he should inform her of the danger she was currently in.
The sigh came from Isaiah though, as the raven haired man moved gently away from the sofa into the direction of the kitchen.
"What's wrong? Is your belly upset?"
Jesus, that sounded childish when she said it like that. Not to mention that weird new Mattie nickname.
"Headhurtss," he manged to get through his gritted teeth, still entirely muffled against her stomach. It was quiet, churning only gently, like a purring cat.
"Has it been hurting for long?" She sounded amazingly calm considering he was lying across her lap. "You seemed fine to me," she said with puzzlement. He could imagine the way her forehead creased, a little wrinkle between her eyebrows as she thought back about the evening.
He opened his mouth the respond, but another burp rushed out instead. Pocket of air against her stomach. Saliva was flooding his mouth.
Matthew loosed his hold on her reluctantly, turning so he would be lying on her knees. He covered his eyes with his hands. "Ow."
Seline placed her hands on both sides of his face. "Where?" Her voice was impossibly soft.
He pushed her cool hand - how was it so cool? - against the left side of his forehead.
He felt more than saw two of her fingertips on his temple, making tiny circular movements against it. She bowled over him, her lips hovering over his ear. "How is this? Should I stop?"
"No, that's nice," he said, relaxing a little. The gentle pressure felt good against the pain, though his stomach was still roiling.
Isaiah came back then, the sofa dipping under his weight as he knelt on Matthew's other side. "I got a bowl if you need it."
"Not the nice popcorn bowl, come on," Seline complained, lifting her head.
"It's big and deep," Isaiah protested, sounding amused.
Matthew groaned at the banter. The headache was giving away a bit at the message, but the nausea rose steadily no matter what he did. He felt air in his throat and spit flooding his mouth. He didn't want to move away from Seline's fingers or the attention, but his stomach cramped angrily then.
It had him shooting up into general direction of up. Except he felt dizzy right away, swaying and moaning.
Isaiah grabbed his shoulder to steady him.
Matthew held his eyes shut against the spinning of the room, trusting him to have the bowl at the right place, cause he couldn't aim. His head exploded on his left side with the sensation and puke rocketed into his mouth.
He was right to trust him. The vomit made a splashing sound against the bowl without him even looking, Isaiah holding it under hid chin.
Seline's hands came to cup his forehead from behind. "You are okay, you are okay. Just get it up."
Matthew gave in to his body completely then, a little more voluntarily at the support. His senses were all over the place. He couldn't tell which was was up and down and his left side of the face as pounding and burning from warmth.
More waves of vomit came, easier to bring up now that he wasn't fighting it. When he thought he would catch a break, a loud burp brought in one more splash and then two more. His back arched, only Isaiah's hold on his shoulder keeping him upright. The sofa was moving like a water bed.
When he was finished, he spat the rest of the foul taste and slumped blindly back into Seline's lap. He wanted her nice scent and her cool hands and the little message against his temple that had a drilling machine against it.
"Better now?" she asked, her hands on his face just like he wanted, stroking his cheek and forehead.
"Mhhhhhhhhhmmmm." There was a relief from the nausea, but he was still afraid to open his eyes.
He could vaguely sense Isaiah's movements as he got rid of the bowl, returned to position it next to Matthew. Then circled around, fitting himself into the opening between Matthew's side and the sofa.
Matthew wasn't sure when vomiting because a group activity, or if he shouldn't apologise or feel embarrassed for making a fool of himself.
He sighed contendly as Seline went back to massaging his temple. Isaiah was rubbing his arm gently, as if to remind him he was there.
And who was Matthew to refuse the middle spot?
32 notes
·
View notes
Note
I'm in the fluffiest mood lately, so how about a no stakes sickfic. Movie night and the trip (Matt, Sel/Zaya) are home and decide to put on something like spiderverse or smth else, point being, either Isaiah or Matt gets super motion sick from it
Something fluffy it is. Thank you for the ask, Soup!!💙
Cinema sickness
The middle position was the best.
Matthew didn't notice when exactly they started to fight for it like that, but it was increasingly a place one of them got as special treat.
Like of course, when Isaiah was having his not so heart episodes that Seline still didn't know the cause of or when he was emotional. Then it wad Seline herself with a fever. She also usurped the spot most openly when she was well.
Matthew was a little too emebrassed to be that forward. Not when he was feeling fine.
They bought a camera projector they have been saving for a few months. Seline dreamed about the home cinema early on and Isaiah was such a movie buff, it was only to be expected.
Matthew found the cinema experience tiresome because of all the people, so their own private living room cinema because of the projector? Sounded fun. Though the cinema made for good people training.
"You guys didn't watch the second Spiderverse movie yet, right?" Seline said, taking control of the chromcast with her phone to put it on.
"I didn't see the first one either," Matthew grumbled as she climbed up between him and Isaiah who was scrolling through IMDb. He had a thing for ratings, while Seline loved comments and spoilers.
Matthew considered himself the only sane and commonly invested movie person. He liked to get surprised.
"The animation is out of this world. The first movie got an Oscar for it too, but they went overboard and beyond with the second. Each universe has a different animation style! It's the perfect movie for a cinema." Seline waved her phone in front of Matthew enthusiastically.
"Isn't animation for children?"
Isaiah and Seline both gave him scandalised looks. "In what hole did you live until now for such an outdated opinion?" Isaiah asked teasingly.
Matthew rolled his eyes. Didn't look like he would have a say today.
"I don't think you need the first one to understand," Seline said thoughtfully as she put the movie on. "They explain it pretty well, plus I can always explain things to you if you need it."
"You are still more of a fan of the first one, aren't you?" Isaiah said, bumping against her. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder, all three of them.
"I think the character development is simply better there? Also the relationships. The focus on bad mentor and a confused kid and different father figured...this one goes more into the romance storyline-"
"The focus just shifts from him to her's all-"
Matthew shook his head. "Alright, quit it. I want to see for myself."
The movie looked like a very expensive video game. The animation really was something else. Matthew understood quickly they would not be able to film stuff like this for real.
So many colours and so much quick movement. Their living room wall was basically flickering, going from one side of the colour spectrum to the next at rapid speed that had his head spinning.
How could there be so much happening on the screen? It was downright impossible to catch it all.
His eyes felt tired from it. It was all so fast and coupled with the music it was downright aggressive.
Matthew didn't notice when, but the left side of his head felt like someone held it in a vice grip. The more he watched and tried to make sense of what was happening, the more his left temple pounded in unison with his heart.
He found himself shaking his head to clear his vision, rubbing at the side of his face. He even tried closing one eye and then the other. But the images just kept coming and there was some kind of dramatic scene with spidermen all over the screen and damn, his head really hurt.
Seline was leaning her head against Isaiah's shoulder, her legs stretched out and touching them both. Her lap seemed very inviting.
Matt leaned to the side experimentally. He wanted to go slow and see how that would be taken, but the possibility of getting some cover from the screen was getting more irresistible by the second.
He slumped down into Seline's lap, twisting so his face was against her stomach. The lights were all over the living room, reaching even to the windows and the kitchen. No hiding from them.
Matthew closed his eyes, face buried in Seline's belly. He secured her from squirming with his arm over her torso, stretched out all the way to Isaiah's tight. If the other wolf wanted to protest or made any move of displeasure, Matt would quickly notice from that position.
His head hurt. Why just the left side of his face? It was tingling.
Everything was moving too much. The dizzying spinning sensation didn't quite go away, although he had his eyes squeezed shut and wasn't looking.
Not to mention he was starting to feel vaguely queasy, his dinner sloshing in his stomach angrily.
"Mattie, you aren't watching," Seline admonished softly. Her hand went into his hair though, petting it softly. He melted under her touch, grateful for a pleasant feeling to focus on.
Suddenly there was the incredible sound of the movie stopping.
"Matt? You tired?" Isaiah asked, shifting somewhere behind his head.
"Mhhhhhhhhmmmm." Was he that obvious? Suspicious? He wanted to stay huddled there in the softness, thanks.
Isaiah's hand landed on his arm. The older wolf reserved his touches for when Matthew felt sick. But they were so physically close these days, because of Seline of course, no other reason, Matthew kind of craved it, even when he didn't need it.
Or maybe it would count now. But he didn't want to ruin the celebratory mood by being a baby. It was a stupid children's movie, for God's sake.
"We can just call it a night, I think. Continuation tomorrow," Isaiah suggested, ever the peace keeper trying to accommodate everyone.
It sounded nice to not continue the movie in any case. But going to bed created a new set of problems.
Matthew would have to move.
Seline wiggled under his head. "You are heavy," she said playfully. She seemed more open to the gesture than Matthew expected. For no reason at all.
Matthew hummed non-committalally not sure how to explain or escape his predicament without losing his dinner. His stomach was churning angrily and his head was still pounding, sound or not.
Isaiah chucked. "You can sleep here for all I care, but at least let the lady get her PJs."
Matthew huffed at that, but opening his mouth wasn't a good idea. A little burp escaped, muffled against Seline's ribcage.
Seline's fingers in his hair stilled. "Mattie? You feeling alright?"
Did she notice that he got burpy when he was about to spew? He could just be full. Damn it all, the risks of living with people so closely.
Another burp, this time a little louder and wetter. Matthew pressed his face closer into Seline's shirt. It smelled of rain and ozone and grapefruit.
He felt both of their gazes on him without looking. They were probably mouthing something to each other at this point. He could picture it vividly.
The pain in his left temple spiked and he moaned quietly.
Seline's cold hand cupped his nape, stroking his neck up to his cheek where she could reach.
"...If I move, I'll hurl," he admitted finally, figuring he should inform her of the danger she was currently in.
The sigh came from Isaiah though, as the raven haired man moved gently away from the sofa into the direction of the kitchen.
"What's wrong? Is your belly upset?"
Jesus, that sounded childish when she said it like that. Not to mention that weird new Mattie nickname.
"Headhurtss," he manged to get through his gritted teeth, still entirely muffled against her stomach. It was quiet, churning only gently, like a purring cat.
"Has it been hurting for long?" She sounded amazingly calm considering he was lying across her lap. "You seemed fine to me," she said with puzzlement. He could imagine the way her forehead creased, a little wrinkle between her eyebrows as she thought back about the evening.
He opened his mouth the respond, but another burp rushed out instead. Pocket of air against her stomach. Saliva was flooding his mouth.
Matthew loosed his hold on her reluctantly, turning so he would be lying on her knees. He covered his eyes with his hands. "Ow."
Seline placed her hands on both sides of his face. "Where?" Her voice was impossibly soft.
He pushed her cool hand - how was it so cool? - against the left side of his forehead.
He felt more than saw two of her fingertips on his temple, making tiny circular movements against it. She bowled over him, her lips hovering over his ear. "How is this? Should I stop?"
"No, that's nice," he said, relaxing a little. The gentle pressure felt good against the pain, though his stomach was still roiling.
Isaiah came back then, the sofa dipping under his weight as he knelt on Matthew's other side. "I got a bowl if you need it."
"Not the nice popcorn bowl, come on," Seline complained, lifting her head.
"It's big and deep," Isaiah protested, sounding amused.
Matthew groaned at the banter. The headache was giving away a bit at the message, but the nausea rose steadily no matter what he did. He felt air in his throat and spit flooding his mouth. He didn't want to move away from Seline's fingers or the attention, but his stomach cramped angrily then.
It had him shooting up into general direction of up. Except he felt dizzy right away, swaying and moaning.
Isaiah grabbed his shoulder to steady him.
Matthew held his eyes shut against the spinning of the room, trusting him to have the bowl at the right place, cause he couldn't aim. His head exploded on his left side with the sensation and puke rocketed into his mouth.
He was right to trust him. The vomit made a splashing sound against the bowl without him even looking, Isaiah holding it under hid chin.
Seline's hands came to cup his forehead from behind. "You are okay, you are okay. Just get it up."
Matthew gave in to his body completely then, a little more voluntarily at the support. His senses were all over the place. He couldn't tell which was was up and down and his left side of the face as pounding and burning from warmth.
More waves of vomit came, easier to bring up now that he wasn't fighting it. When he thought he would catch a break, a loud burp brought in one more splash and then two more. His back arched, only Isaiah's hold on his shoulder keeping him upright. The sofa was moving like a water bed.
When he was finished, he spat the rest of the foul taste and slumped blindly back into Seline's lap. He wanted her nice scent and her cool hands and the little message against his temple that had a drilling machine against it.
"Better now?" she asked, her hands on his face just like he wanted, stroking his cheek and forehead.
"Mhhhhhhhhhmmmm." There was a relief from the nausea, but he was still afraid to open his eyes.
He could vaguely sense Isaiah's movements as he got rid of the bowl, returned to position it next to Matthew. Then circled around, fitting himself into the opening between Matthew's side and the sofa.
Matthew wasn't sure when vomiting because a group activity, or if he shouldn't apologise or feel embarrassed for making a fool of himself.
He sighed contendly as Seline went back to massaging his temple. Isaiah was rubbing his arm gently, as if to remind him he was there.
And who was Matthew to refuse the middle spot?
32 notes
·
View notes
Note
I'm in the fluffiest mood lately, so how about a no stakes sickfic. Movie night and the trip (Matt, Sel/Zaya) are home and decide to put on something like spiderverse or smth else, point being, either Isaiah or Matt gets super motion sick from it
Something fluffy it is. Thank you for the ask, Soup!!💙
Cinema sickness
The middle position was the best.
Matthew didn't notice when exactly they started to fight for it like that, but it was increasingly a place one of them got as special treat.
Like of course, when Isaiah was having his not so heart episodes that Seline still didn't know the cause of or when he was emotional. Then it wad Seline herself with a fever. She also usurped the spot most openly when she was well.
Matthew was a little too embarrassed to be that forward. Not when he was feeling fine.
They bought a camera projector they have been saving for a few months. Seline dreamed about the home cinema early on and Isaiah was such a movie buff, it was only to be expected.
Matthew found the cinema experience tiresome because of all the people, so their own private living room cinema because of the projector? Sounded fun. Though the cinema made for good people training.
"You guys didn't watch the second Spiderverse movie yet, right?" Seline said, taking control of the chromcast with her phone to put it on.
"I didn't see the first one either," Matthew grumbled as she climbed up between him and Isaiah who was scrolling through IMDb. He had a thing for ratings, while Seline loved comments and spoilers.
Matthew considered himself the only sane and commonly invested movie person. He liked to get surprised.
"The animation is out of this world. The first movie got an Oscar for it too, but they went overboard and beyond with the second. Each universe has a different animation style! It's the perfect movie for a cinema." Seline waved her phone in front of Matthew enthusiastically.
"Isn't animation for children?"
Isaiah and Seline both gave him scandalised looks. "In what hole did you live until now for such an outdated opinion?" Isaiah asked teasingly.
Matthew rolled his eyes. Didn't look like he would have a say today.
"I don't think you need the first one to understand," Seline said thoughtfully as she put the movie on. "They explain it pretty well, plus I can always explain things to you if you need it."
"You are still more of a fan of the first one, aren't you?" Isaiah said, bumping against her. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder, all three of them.
"I think the character development is simply better there? Also the relationships. The focus on bad mentor and a confused kid and different father figured...this one goes more into the romance storyline-"
"The focus just shifts from him to her's all-"
Matthew shook his head. "Alright, quit it. I want to see for myself."
The movie looked like a very expensive video game. The animation really was something else. Matthew understood quickly they would not be able to film stuff like this for real.
So many colours and so much quick movement. Their living room wall was basically flickering, going from one side of the colour spectrum to the next at rapid speed that had his head spinning.
How could there be so much happening on the screen? It was downright impossible to catch it all.
His eyes felt tired from it. It was all so fast and coupled with the music it was downright aggressive.
Matthew didn't notice when, but the left side of his head felt like someone held it in a vice grip. The more he watched and tried to make sense of what was happening, the more his left temple pounded in unison with his heart.
He found himself shaking his head to clear his vision, rubbing at the side of his face. He even tried closing one eye and then the other. But the images just kept coming and there was some kind of dramatic scene with spidermen all over the screen and damn, his head really hurt.
Seline was leaning her head against Isaiah's shoulder, her legs stretched out and touching them both. Her lap seemed very inviting.
Matt leaned to the side experimentally. He wanted to go slow and see how that would be taken, but the possibility of getting some cover from the screen was getting more irresistible by the second.
He slumped down into Seline's lap, twisting so his face was against her stomach. The lights were all over the living room, reaching even to the windows and the kitchen. No hiding from them.
Matthew closed his eyes, face buried in Seline's belly. He secured her from squirming with his arm over her torso, stretched out all the way to Isaiah's tight. If the other wolf wanted to protest or made any move of displeasure, Matt would quickly notice from that position.
His head hurt. Why just the left side of his face? It was tingling.
Everything was moving too much. The dizzying spinning sensation didn't quite go away, although he had his eyes squeezed shut and wasn't looking.
Not to mention he was starting to feel vaguely queasy, his dinner sloshing in his stomach angrily.
"Mattie, you aren't watching," Seline admonished softly. Her hand went into his hair though, petting it softly. He melted under her touch, grateful for a pleasant feeling to focus on.
Suddenly there was the incredible sound of the movie stopping.
"Matt? You tired?" Isaiah asked, shifting somewhere behind his head.
"Mhhhhhhhhmmmm." Was he that obvious? Suspicious? He wanted to stay huddled there in the softness, thanks.
Isaiah's hand landed on his arm. The older wolf reserved his touches for when Matthew felt sick. But they were so physically close these days, because of Seline of course, no other reason, Matthew kind of craved it, even when he didn't need it.
Or maybe it would count now. But he didn't want to ruin the celebratory mood by being a baby. It was a stupid children's movie, for God's sake.
"We can just call it a night, I think. Continuation tomorrow," Isaiah suggested, ever the peace keeper trying to accommodate everyone.
It sounded nice to not continue the movie in any case. But going to bed created a new set of problems.
Matthew would have to move.
Seline wiggled under his head. "You are heavy," she said playfully. She seemed more open to the gesture than Matthew expected. For no reason at all.
Matthew hummed non-committalally not sure how to explain or escape his predicament without losing his dinner. His stomach was churning angrily and his head was still pounding, sound or not.
Isaiah chucked. "You can sleep here for all I care, but at least let the lady get her PJs."
Matthew huffed at that, but opening his mouth wasn't a good idea. A little burp escaped, muffled against Seline's ribcage.
Seline's fingers in his hair stilled. "Mattie? You feeling alright?"
Did she notice that he got burpy when he was about to spew? He could just be full. Damn it all, the risks of living with people so closely.
Another burp, this time a little louder and wetter. Matthew pressed his face closer into Seline's shirt. It smelled of rain and ozone and grapefruit.
He felt both of their gazes on him without looking. They were probably mouthing something to each other at this point. He could picture it vividly.
The pain in his left temple spiked and he moaned quietly.
Seline's cold hand cupped his nape, stroking his neck up to his cheek where she could reach.
"...If I move, I'll hurl," he admitted finally, figuring he should inform her of the danger she was currently in.
The sigh came from Isaiah though, as the raven haired man moved gently away from the sofa into the direction of the kitchen.
"What's wrong? Is your belly upset?"
Jesus, that sounded childish when she said it like that. Not to mention that weird new Mattie nickname.
"Headhurtss," he manged to get through his gritted teeth, still entirely muffled against her stomach. It was quiet, churning only gently, like a purring cat.
"Has it been hurting for long?" She sounded amazingly calm considering he was lying across her lap. "You seemed fine to me," she said with puzzlement. He could imagine the way her forehead creased, a little wrinkle between her eyebrows as she thought back about the evening.
He opened his mouth the respond, but another burp rushed out instead. Pocket of air against her stomach. Saliva was flooding his mouth.
Matthew loosed his hold on her reluctantly, turning so he would be lying on her knees. He covered his eyes with his hands. "Ow."
Seline placed her hands on both sides of his face. "Where?" Her voice was impossibly soft.
He pushed her cool hand - how was it so cool? - against the left side of his forehead.
He felt more than saw two of her fingertips on his temple, making tiny circular movements against it. She bowled over him, her lips hovering over his ear. "How is this? Should I stop?"
"No, that's nice," he said, relaxing a little. The gentle pressure felt good against the pain, though his stomach was still roiling.
Isaiah came back then, the sofa dipping under his weight as he knelt on Matthew's other side. "I got a bowl if you need it."
"Not the nice popcorn bowl, come on," Seline complained, lifting her head.
"It's big and deep," Isaiah protested, sounding amused.
Matthew groaned at the banter. The headache was giving away a bit at the message, but the nausea rose steadily no matter what he did. He felt air in his throat and spit flooding his mouth. He didn't want to move away from Seline's fingers or the attention, but his stomach cramped angrily then.
It had him shooting up into general direction of up. Except he felt dizzy right away, swaying and moaning.
Isaiah grabbed his shoulder to steady him.
Matthew held his eyes shut against the spinning of the room, trusting him to have the bowl at the right place, cause he couldn't aim. His head exploded on his left side with the sensation and puke rocketed into his mouth.
He was right to trust him. The vomit made a splashing sound against the bowl without him even looking, Isaiah holding it under hid chin.
Seline's hands came to cup his forehead from behind. "You are okay, you are okay. Just get it up."
Matthew gave in to his body completely then, a little more voluntarily at the support. His senses were all over the place. He couldn't tell which was was up and down and his left side of the face as pounding and burning from warmth.
More waves of vomit came, easier to bring up now that he wasn't fighting it. When he thought he would catch a break, a loud burp brought in one more splash and then two more. His back arched, only Isaiah's hold on his shoulder keeping him upright. The sofa was moving like a water bed.
When he was finished, he spat the rest of the foul taste and slumped blindly back into Seline's lap. He wanted her nice scent and her cool hands and the little message against his temple that had a drilling machine against it.
"Better now?" she asked, her hands on his face just like he wanted, stroking his cheek and forehead.
"Mhhhhhhhhhmmmm." There was a relief from the nausea, but he was still afraid to open his eyes.
He could vaguely sense Isaiah's movements as he got rid of the bowl, returned to position it next to Matthew. Then circled around, fitting himself into the opening between Matthew's side and the sofa.
Matthew wasn't sure when vomiting because a group activity, or if he shouldn't apologise or feel embarrassed for making a fool of himself.
He sighed contendly as Seline went back to massaging his temple. Isaiah was rubbing his arm gently, as if to remind him he was there.
And who was Matthew to refuse the middle spot?
32 notes
·
View notes
Note
I'm in the fluffiest mood lately, so how about a no stakes sickfic. Movie night and the trip (Matt, Sel/Zaya) are home and decide to put on something like spiderverse or smth else, point being, either Isaiah or Matt gets super motion sick from it
Something fluffy it is. Thank you for the ask, Soup!!💙
Cinema sickness
The middle position was the best.
Matthew didn't notice when exactly they started to fight for it like that, but it was increasingly a place one of them got as special treat.
Like of course, when Isaiah was having his not so heart episodes that Seline still didn't know the cause of or when he was emotional. Then it wad Seline herself with a fever. She also usurped the spot most openly when she was well.
Matthew was a little too embarrassed to be that forward. Not when he was feeling fine.
They bought a camera projector they have been saving for a few months. Seline dreamed about the home cinema early on and Isaiah was such a movie buff, it was only to be expected.
Matthew found the cinema experience tiresome because of all the people, so their own private living room cinema because of the projector? Sounded fun. Though the cinema made for good people training.
"You guys didn't watch the second Spiderverse movie yet, right?" Seline said, taking control of the chromcast with her phone to put it on.
"I didn't see the first one either," Matthew grumbled as she climbed up between him and Isaiah who was scrolling through IMDb. He had a thing for ratings, while Seline loved comments and spoilers.
Matthew considered himself the only sane and commonly invested movie person. He liked to get surprised.
"The animation is out of this world. The first movie got an Oscar for it too, but they went overboard and beyond with the second. Each universe has a different animation style! It's the perfect movie for a cinema." Seline waved her phone in front of Matthew enthusiastically.
"Isn't animation for children?"
Isaiah and Seline both gave him scandalised looks. "In what hole did you live until now for such an outdated opinion?" Isaiah asked teasingly.
Matthew rolled his eyes. Didn't look like he would have a say today.
"I don't think you need the first one to understand," Seline said thoughtfully as she put the movie on. "They explain it pretty well, plus I can always explain things to you if you need it."
"You are still more of a fan of the first one, aren't you?" Isaiah said, bumping against her. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder, all three of them.
"I think the character development is simply better there? Also the relationships. The focus on bad mentor and a confused kid and different father figured...this one goes more into the romance storyline-"
"The focus just shifts from him to her's all-"
Matthew shook his head. "Alright, quit it. I want to see for myself."
The movie looked like a very expensive video game. The animation really was something else. Matthew understood quickly they would not be able to film stuff like this for real.
So many colours and so much quick movement. Their living room wall was basically flickering, going from one side of the colour spectrum to the next at rapid speed that had his head spinning.
How could there be so much happening on the screen? It was downright impossible to catch it all.
His eyes felt tired from it. It was all so fast and coupled with the music it was downright aggressive.
Matthew didn't notice when, but the left side of his head felt like someone held it in a vice grip. The more he watched and tried to make sense of what was happening, the more his left temple pounded in unison with his heart.
He found himself shaking his head to clear his vision, rubbing at the side of his face. He even tried closing one eye and then the other. But the images just kept coming and there was some kind of dramatic scene with spidermen all over the screen and damn, his head really hurt.
Seline was leaning her head against Isaiah's shoulder, her legs stretched out and touching them both. Her lap seemed very inviting.
Matt leaned to the side experimentally. He wanted to go slow and see how that would be taken, but the possibility of getting some cover from the screen was getting more irresistible by the second.
He slumped down into Seline's lap, twisting so his face was against her stomach. The lights were all over the living room, reaching even to the windows and the kitchen. No hiding from them.
Matthew closed his eyes, face buried in Seline's belly. He secured her from squirming with his arm over her torso, stretched out all the way to Isaiah's tight. If the other wolf wanted to protest or made any move of displeasure, Matt would quickly notice from that position.
His head hurt. Why just the left side of his face? It was tingling.
Everything was moving too much. The dizzying spinning sensation didn't quite go away, although he had his eyes squeezed shut and wasn't looking.
Not to mention he was starting to feel vaguely queasy, his dinner sloshing in his stomach angrily.
"Mattie, you aren't watching," Seline admonished softly. Her hand went into his hair though, petting it softly. He melted under her touch, grateful for a pleasant feeling to focus on.
Suddenly there was the incredible sound of the movie stopping.
"Matt? You tired?" Isaiah asked, shifting somewhere behind his head.
"Mhhhhhhhhmmmm." Was he that obvious? Suspicious? He wanted to stay huddled there in the softness, thanks.
Isaiah's hand landed on his arm. The older wolf reserved his touches for when Matthew felt sick. But they were so physically close these days, because of Seline of course, no other reason, Matthew kind of craved it, even when he didn't need it.
Or maybe it would count now. But he didn't want to ruin the celebratory mood by being a baby. It was a stupid children's movie, for God's sake.
"We can just call it a night, I think. Continuation tomorrow," Isaiah suggested, ever the peace keeper trying to accommodate everyone.
It sounded nice to not continue the movie in any case. But going to bed created a new set of problems.
Matthew would have to move.
Seline wiggled under his head. "You are heavy," she said playfully. She seemed more open to the gesture than Matthew expected. For no reason at all.
Matthew hummed non-committalally not sure how to explain or escape his predicament without losing his dinner. His stomach was churning angrily and his head was still pounding, sound or not.
Isaiah chucked. "You can sleep here for all I care, but at least let the lady get her PJs."
Matthew huffed at that, but opening his mouth wasn't a good idea. A little burp escaped, muffled against Seline's ribcage.
Seline's fingers in his hair stilled. "Mattie? You feeling alright?"
Did she notice that he got burpy when he was about to spew? He could just be full. Damn it all, the risks of living with people so closely.
Another burp, this time a little louder and wetter. Matthew pressed his face closer into Seline's shirt. It smelled of rain and ozone and grapefruit.
He felt both of their gazes on him without looking. They were probably mouthing something to each other at this point. He could picture it vividly.
The pain in his left temple spiked and he moaned quietly.
Seline's cold hand cupped his nape, stroking his neck up to his cheek where she could reach.
"...If I move, I'll hurl," he admitted finally, figuring he should inform her of the danger she was currently in.
The sigh came from Isaiah though, as the raven haired man moved gently away from the sofa into the direction of the kitchen.
"What's wrong? Is your belly upset?"
Jesus, that sounded childish when she said it like that. Not to mention that weird new Mattie nickname.
"Headhurtss," he manged to get through his gritted teeth, still entirely muffled against her stomach. It was quiet, churning only gently, like a purring cat.
"Has it been hurting for long?" She sounded amazingly calm considering he was lying across her lap. "You seemed fine to me," she said with puzzlement. He could imagine the way her forehead creased, a little wrinkle between her eyebrows as she thought back about the evening.
He opened his mouth the respond, but another burp rushed out instead. Pocket of air against her stomach. Saliva was flooding his mouth.
Matthew loosed his hold on her reluctantly, turning so he would be lying on her knees. He covered his eyes with his hands. "Ow."
Seline placed her hands on both sides of his face. "Where?" Her voice was impossibly soft.
He pushed her cool hand - how was it so cool? - against the left side of his forehead.
He felt more than saw two of her fingertips on his temple, making tiny circular movements against it. She bowled over him, her lips hovering over his ear. "How is this? Should I stop?"
"No, that's nice," he said, relaxing a little. The gentle pressure felt good against the pain, though his stomach was still roiling.
Isaiah came back then, the sofa dipping under his weight as he knelt on Matthew's other side. "I got a bowl if you need it."
"Not the nice popcorn bowl, come on," Seline complained, lifting her head.
"It's big and deep," Isaiah protested, sounding amused.
Matthew groaned at the banter. The headache was giving away a bit at the message, but the nausea rose steadily no matter what he did. He felt air in his throat and spit flooding his mouth. He didn't want to move away from Seline's fingers or the attention, but his stomach cramped angrily then.
It had him shooting up into general direction of up. Except he felt dizzy right away, swaying and moaning.
Isaiah grabbed his shoulder to steady him.
Matthew held his eyes shut against the spinning of the room, trusting him to have the bowl at the right place, cause he couldn't aim. His head exploded on his left side with the sensation and puke rocketed into his mouth.
He was right to trust him. The vomit made a splashing sound against the bowl without him even looking, Isaiah holding it under hid chin.
Seline's hands came to cup his forehead from behind. "You are okay, you are okay. Just get it up."
Matthew gave in to his body completely then, a little more voluntarily at the support. His senses were all over the place. He couldn't tell which was was up and down and his left side of the face as pounding and burning from warmth.
More waves of vomit came, easier to bring up now that he wasn't fighting it. When he thought he would catch a break, a loud burp brought in one more splash and then two more. His back arched, only Isaiah's hold on his shoulder keeping him upright. The sofa was moving like a water bed.
When he was finished, he spat the rest of the foul taste and slumped blindly back into Seline's lap. He wanted her nice scent and her cool hands and the little message against his temple that had a drilling machine against it.
"Better now?" she asked, her hands on his face just like he wanted, stroking his cheek and forehead.
"Mhhhhhhhhhmmmm." There was a relief from the nausea, but he was still afraid to open his eyes.
He could vaguely sense Isaiah's movements as he got rid of the bowl, returned to position it next to Matthew. Then circled around, fitting himself into the opening between Matthew's side and the sofa.
Matthew wasn't sure when vomiting because a group activity, or if he shouldn't apologise or feel embarrassed for making a fool of himself.
He sighed contendly as Seline went back to massaging his temple. Isaiah was rubbing his arm gently, as if to remind him he was there.
And who was Matthew to refuse the middle spot?
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I know I have like six requests in my inbox and a plan, but I'm not seeing it, so if anyone has requests I would be suuuuper curious
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Part 2 of Leo's birthday - Jonah's turn.
This was a request from🧋anon!
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Leo was cute when he slept and Jonah was sure this was an objective opinion and not just because he was head over heels in love with the guy.
He was sprawled on the bed, occupying most of it and snoring softly, shirtless and having already kicked away most of the blankets. Despite the terrible ending of their night, Jon was still counting that as a good birthday. Sure, Leo had puked on Wendy’s shoes and then again on the kitchen sink as soon as they got home, but afterwards he had climbed into bed with Jonah, complaining about a bellyache, and had melted like a golden retriever pup on his lap, dozing off within minutes of getting the belly rub.
That should still count as a good birthday, right?
“Baby,” Jonah crawled on the bed, freshly showered and ready to head in for work, “Leo. Wake up, you’re going to be late for work,” he shook his fiance’s shoulder, “Leo.”
He’d probably end up being late himself at this rate. Leo groaned and swatted his hand away, making Jonah scoff.
“I’m heading to work,” he whispered, brushing Leo’s hair away from his face, “and I’m gonna set your phone’s alarm. Thirty more minutes, then you have to get up.”
“Uhhrgh,” was Leo’s response and Jonah rolled his eyes, doing as he had promised and leaving the bedroom. He had spent too much time in the shower and there wouldn’t be any time to make himself food, but the cupcakes Leo had brought over from work were still in the fridge.
Figuring his boyfriend certainly wouldn’t want them after puking due to too much food last night, Jonah quickly polished off the two cupcakes on his way down to the garage.
As his day progressed, Jonah’s good humor started to tank. Everything felt like too much, his clothes clinging to him, the hospital noise that normally he could drown out without thinking, sounding much louder than usual.
Around 10 AM, he got a kid wailing down the ER and a distraught mom absolutely chewing the hell out of the paramedic who had just brought him in. Jonah cringed as he realized he’d have to be the one handling this. There were many reasons why he wanted to be a surgeon and one of them was no angry moms hovering about while he tried to do his job.
He’d take a heart attack any day over a broken leg.
Mom’s name was Louise and she was not impressed by Jonah’s bedside manner. Her son was named Charlie and he was struggling to keep up, the poor kid’s chin wobbling as he tried valiantly not to cry.
“Charlie, we’re going to-”
The dam broke and more tears came up. Jonah sighed, resisting the urge to fan himself. It was so warm. He planted a sympathetic hand on the kid’s shoulder, wiping away the tears. It was painful to watch, knowing the boy was only hurting himself more by sobbing like that.
“You’re okay,” Jonah cooed softly, as the nurse started up an IV, communicating silently with him. There was no way they could wait for oral painkillers to take effect before wheeling the kid to x-ray and that was considering he didn’t make himself sick with all the crying, “it’s just a little poke.”
“Hu-hurttssss,” the little boy continued to cry and Jonah rubbed his back, checking his watch. Five minutes for the morphine to kick in. Louise was patting her foot nervously on the ground, whole body shaking with anxiety.
“Ma’am, he’s in good hands,” Jonah explained, just to say something. His stomach was starting to slosh uncomfortably, “we’re waiting for the painkillers to kick in and then we’ll go to x-ray, you’re welcome to accompany-”
“Of course I’m going with him, are you crazy?” She scoffed at him, stepping closer and cooing over her son. Jonah resisted the urge to move away, as the kid wiped at his nose grossly on the back of his sleeve and slightly cuddled up to his side. He was getting heavy.
“There we go,” Jon lowered him against the pillow, “hurting less?”
The boy nodded, his face still all pink and wet with tears, “still hurts.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” he grimaced, signing the kid’s record and jolting down his next instructions, “we can’t give you too much medicine, in case we need to do another procedure. As soon as the X-rays are done we’ll give you better meds,” Jonah smoothed the boy’s hair back gently, “we’re going to move your bed now, okay Charlie? Are you feeling alright?”
The kid sucked in a sob, but nodded and Jonah smiled at him, “nurse Marjorie is going to stay with you the whole time,” he gestured to the much older nurse, who was one of his favorite people in the hospital. She had more than 30 years of experience, was trained for surgeries and tough as nails. “Then as soon as you’re released from X-Ray I’m going to see you again, okay?”
“O-Okay…” The kid’s voice broke and Jonah squeezed his hand in a sympathetic manner, before allowing the technicians to wheel him away, his mother not sparing the doctor a second glance.
As soon as they were out of sight, Jonah allowed his smile to fade.
While the interaction had been brief — and Louise hadn’t actually shaped up to be a momzilla, just a regular worried mother — it had been long enough for his stomach to go from “a little off” to “full blown nausea”.
He felt a weird pressure travel up and Jonah quickly excused himself, power walking to the bathrooms, stripping his white coat as he rushed there so he wouldn’t be so recognizable as a doctor.
The bathroom, given it was near the ER, wasn’t empty. There were five stalls on each side, the middle of the room had a large slab of stone with a mirror and five sinks on each side of the mirror. No urinals, for which Jonah was very glad.
He rushed inside of a stall and brought his coat to his mouth, muffling a loud, thick burp. Even with the fabric in the way, it was still pretty loud and he was sure others had heard it. Whatever, this was a hospital, he tried to reassure himself, as yet another sickening burp rolled up.
Jonah let out a little moan and lowered the coat, head hanging in shame and nausea. He folded the coat over one arm, slightly palming his stomach under his button up shirt. It was warm to the touch and bloated and the small pressure of his hand on it caused another belch to rush up, this one too expected for him to muffle it.
It hurt his throat, the acidic sludge of his tummy rushing up with the burp, but he swallowed it down last second. Jonah pressed his forehead to the hard white plastic of the stall’s wall and breathed out slowly, he had to get his body in check. At least finish his ER hours.
Defeated and knowing he wouldn’t puke right at this moment, Jonah walked out of the stall to wash his face.
The next two hours went like a blur. He tried his best to focus on his patients, but was forcefully reminded by his stomach that it was still very upset every other minute. He had grabbed a plastic cup of water and was sipping on it in between patients, pushing down the thick sweet saliva that kept flooding his mouth.
Finally Claire came to relieve him, so he could go for lunch, and Jonah could’ve cried. Instead of heading down to the cafeteria or to the many restaurants that were around the hospital’s complex, he went to the doctor’s staff to lie down.
There was coming and going in the place, it was a change of shifts after all, and Jonah reached for his phone inside his locker. He grabbed it, then went to the back room where there were two bunker beds in case they needed to sleep.
One of the top ones was already occupied and Jonah put his phone on silent mode, then crawled on a bottom bed, curling up on his side and muffling another sick burp against the thin pillow.
He wrapped an arm around his stomach, bringing up his knees and squeezing his eyes as the pressure made his belly feel like it was full with boiling liquid.
There were texts from Leo and Jonah squinted at the screen, lowering the brightness and struggling to understand what his boyfriend was saying.
Leo: Gonna call in sick at work, still feeling pretty shitty. Don’t think I overdid it yesterday, just ate something off.
Leo: Good news! You’ll be happy to know the restaurant we went to didn't make me sick. I got food poisoning at the office :) When I get my hands on Sandy she’s done for.
Leo: Apparently they canceled everyone’s schedule, because everyone called in sick. Isn't that lovely? You bet your ass we’re gonna have a lecture on food handling and what not, can’t wait.
Leo: When are you coming home, my tummy hurts and I want cuddles 🥺🥺 JD is sick of me
Leo: Jon, did you eat the cupcakes in the fridge? Baby, pls text me back.
The string of texts started at 8 AM and ended just around 10 AM, with one missed call accompanying it. Jonah gagged as he realized he had eaten the poisoned stuff as well and he dropped his phone on the mattress, half sitting up on the bed and trying to figure if he was about to spew or not.
He was sweating. Jon undid his tie and opened the top buttons of his shirt, sitting fully up and cradling his stomach. The whole organ was snarling like crazy and he gulped down when the flipping of its contents made him gag, almost bringing up liquid.
“Fuck,” Jonah whispered, grabbing his phone, coat and tie and slipping out of the bedroom. He needed a bathroom, not a bedroom- His intestines cramped and Jon froze, shuddering at the sensation. He really needed a bathroom.
At least the doctor’s one was much more private. It still had stalls, but only two and the place was empty. Jonah dropped all his items to the ground, suddenly too restless and panicked to mind how gross that was. He wasn’t sure if he was going to shit his pants or puke.
His stomach let out an upset whine and then a rush of bubbles went south, making up his mind for him. His hands were shaking as they fumbled with his belt and fly and he could feel his tummy rumbling ominously against his touch.
He sat on the toilet, then wrapped his arms around his middle, gulping down nervously. The lights over his head felt like too much and he was sweating like hell.
The runs left him so dizzy he was forced to plant a hand on the stall’s wall in order not to fall off the toilet. Jonah didn’t even bother muffling the sick burping fit that followed, his head swimming.
Once he finally managed to get out of the bathroom, Jonah stared at his reflection angrily. He looked like hell. Sweat had glued down his tight curls to his temples and was beading over his forehead and mustache area, he looked gray, his lips pale…
He washed his face and hands vigorously, then took a gulp of tap water and breathed through the sensation of it settling in his stomach like a brick. Jonah checked his watch, then groaned out loud, there was no way he’d be able to last the remaining five hours he still had to go.
Wendy picked up on the third ring, sounding sleepy. She had the night shift today and Jonah felt bad about waking her up, but not so bad he considered not calling. He wanted to go home, his whole body was shaking.
“Yeah?” she yawned, “Jon?”
“Dee, can you cover for me? I don’t feel well,” he said, straight to the point. Another yawn.
“Please tell me Leo didn’t have a stomach bug. I can't get the flu again, I’m gonna cry,” Wendy groaned and he heard her moving around.
“No, food poisoning and I-” he turned his head, muffling a sick burp and gagging over the sink when it brought up some thick, extra sweet spit. Jonah took a steady breath, “I think I got it as well.”
“Fantastic,” Wendy deadpanned, “I can go in one hour, can you handle that long?”
He knew she only lived 10 minutes away from the hospital and that the 50 other minutes were probably to tell Vince goodbye, since he’d be driving back to Doverport. Jonah felt mildly annoyed at the fact she’d be making out with her boyfriend while he was dying, but he also knew she was already doing a gigantic favor by coming in five hours before she needed to.
“Yeah, I can handle one hour,” he sighed, clutching his stomach.
“Alright, I’ll be there,” she hung up without further ado and Jonah let out a sigh.
The thing was, he could clock out and then stay in the bathroom until Wendy arrived, but then it would mean his chart would show he had left five hours earlier and Jonah needed all the hours he could get. Whenever Wendy covered for him or he covered for her, they never clocked out.
So instead of being smart and staying in the bathroom, he forced himself to go sit in his office.
Normally he liked clinic office hours, but not today. Today he didn’t like anything.
Jonah was sitting there, with his head in his hands and considering the stupidity of his actions given how badly his stomach was churning and how he kept burping — thank god his door was shut —, when there was a knock.
He glanced at his watch. 30 more minutes, couldn’t be Wendy.
“Come-” just speaking increased his nausea tenfold and Jonah interrupted himself as he gagged, sliding the trashcan that was under his desk closer and–
The door opened, the person on the other side clearly not realizing he hadn’t finished his words. The little boy from before, now in crutches and with his leg on a cast, still looking like he was in pain and ready to cry, his mother right behind him…
“Fuck,” Jonah groaned, when his stomach gave up on him and he had no choice but to dive for the trashcan as a thick wave of vomit came up. He brought it up to his mouth, to shield his face from view, but still he heard over the rushing in his ears as the woman let out a shriek.
Humiliation only heightened his stomach ache and he coughed, bringing up another wave of overly sweet vomit. It tasted just like the chocolate cupcakes, except rotten. Jonah burped mid retch, feeling more than a little woozy and he fell from his chair, grabbing on the desk to keep from going down entirely.
A lot more noise now and then a hand was in the middle of his back, a female voice ushering his distraught patients out. He prayed the next wave of puke would drown him.
No such luck, his tummy squeezed again and Jonah let out a whimper as he was forced to burp and it brought up some more chunks of his poisoned breakfast. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime but was probably just a couple minutes, he stopped feeling like he was about to hurl and was left panting over the trashcan.
He was shaking like hell and his stomach was cramping, intestines as well. Everything felt sort of fuzzy around the edges.
“Jon?” Wendy’s voice was like a balm to his nerves and he nearly cried. Instead he let out a groan and pulled back from the trashcan, falling vaguely against her. He heard her let out a little huff as he weight rested on her, but her hand was cold and gentle as it came to cup his forehead.
“Killme, Wen,” he groaned, his words sticking together and she let out a sigh, rubbing his arm.
“Are you done?”
“For now,” Jonah nodded. He knew he was far from done, not only because of the food, but because he felt a new type of nausea mix into his belly. Anxiety, panic, “my patients-”
“It’s okay,” Wendy squeezed his arm, “don’t think about that. Claire took them out.”
“Fuck,” he turned his head and blinked, finally getting a hold of his bearings. They were sitting on the ground, practically under his desk. Wendy had her white coat on and she looked incredibly concerned, “you’re not gonna call me an idiot for not sitting in the doctor’s lounge until you arrived?”
Wendy shook her head, “you’re feeling too bad for me to tease you,” she stroked his cheek lightly and Jonah felt a knot in his throat. He nodded in agreement and leaned forward, planting his forehead to her shoulder, a weird position given Wendy was much shorter than he was.
“I wanna die,” he groaned and she rubbed his back.
“You’re okay, sweetheart,” she ushered him up, “I’ll get their details and you can send the mom an apology card and some fancy wine. It’s not the end of the world, I promise you.”
“Stewarts-” Jonah started to say, meaning his supervisor, who’d absolutely chew him out for this and Wendy glared at him, pushing him along the hallway.
“You couldn’t have known, it came out of nowhere,” she lied through her teeth, “right? You were feeling fine before.”
Jonah cringed, but nodded, buying in the lie, “yeah, I certainly didn’t feel gross for hours beforehand.”
“Exactly,” Wendy pushed him down the hallway, “I’m gonna drive you home, okay? And you’re gonna be a decent patient and drink loads of water and get your boy to do the same, because I don’t want to see any of you in my hospital later.”“Don’t call Leo my boy, that’s weird,” Jonah groaned, but he was feeling overwhelmingly fond of his best friend. He loved this woman so much.
#omg this was good#the cupcakes were a planted trap!#the buildup was incredible the way everything was too much#even clothes clinging to him#with a building stomachache in hospital chaos?#Jon is incredible and crazy#I would be going away so much sooner he is just suffering through#loved seeing him so comforting with the boy#then laying down and then Leo's texts as Leo realised what happened!😱#and then Jon getting even sicker as he realized too#don't thing we had those tummy troubles with Jon yet#poor poor thing#yep gotta agree the coat muffling was something#but also nowhere to hide in peace? when he feels so sick?#felt for him when he called Wendy#the clocking out is a nice system for them#Wendy came sooner though didn't she#how he fell against her under the table#Wendy not even letting him finish a sentence to reassure him about everything#their friendship is awesome#I so can't wait for the third part#will we see the boys both sick#yay yay yay
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Chicago Med S05E01
By Request
#chicago med#will halstead#nick gehlfuss#pneumothorax#pain#gasping#wincing#support#connor rhodes#god i miss him#requests#cm 5x01#doubling over#i'm fine#refusing medical treatment#ep: never going back to normal
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I’m such a sucker for serious characters who try to hide it when their stomach hurts but someone sees through them anyways
A business-type trying to stay on task and get things done but their belly is cramping and a split-second hesitation when answering a simple question prompts the other person to ask if they’re alright, studying their pale face with concern. Bonus points for form-fitting professional clothes that strain a little over a slightly-bloated middle…
Or maybe a hard laborer, just in from a long day’s work, eagerly eating just a bit too much of the dinner their partner has waiting for them when they come home. They’re a tough-on-the-outside-soft-on-the-inside kinda soul and trying so hard to nap off the painful too-full rumbles and heavy ache so they won’t ruin their loved-one’s evening, but they can’t bite back a moan when shifting a little too suddenly on the couch.
or my favorites — responsible types, the ones always looking out for everyone else. They’re shepherding their group of friends in a crowded place as usual, keeping a count of every head and their tummy is torturing them. They’re not sure if it’s something they ate or if they’re coming down with something but it hurts so much and they feel really sick and all they want to do is lie down. But they just can’t drown out that little voice that says they’re letting everyone down if they can’t be their best responsible self for the rest of the group. They have to stand there and hold things so everyone else can go on the fair rides. Best to lock their knees and stare straight ahead and hope desperately no one can tell they’re shaking with the effort it takes not to bend double, holding their stomach and sinking to the ground.
the best part?
The usually serious/tough/responsible types get the most attentive and loving care once everyone realizes how much they need it. ♡
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