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SAFE AND SOUND || Manon's Little Racer Series

Pairing: Manon Bannerman x Child! Reader, Platonic! Katseye x Child! Reader

Synopsis: Mac develops a raging fever overnight, and Manon doesn't know how to calm you down. Luckily, there is nothing your favorite aunts, lots of cuddles, and some poorly made oatmeal can't fix. At least, they hope.

Warnings: Fluff/minor angst, Toddler!Reader, GN!Reader (no gender specified in the fic), no Y/N used (Reader is either referred to as "you" or "Mac"), sickfic, fever, throwing up (not super graphic, but it is present), normal sickfic stuff, bath time, the girls are quite literally the best aunts, someone needs to give Manon the biggest hug, Google Translate was used so the translations may suck.

Word Count: 3594

Manon isn’t quite sure when the sickness first began. Maybe it was after the shopping spree, when you couldn’t stop sniffling once you awoke from your nap. She remembered you watched Sophia open the box to your new RC car, one fist clumsily going up to rub your sleepy eyes. And as soon as the leader handed you the toy, you ran like lightning to force Yoonchae to play. She still remembers the “shocked” expression on the maknae’s face when you banged into her knees. For someone who just woke up from a nap and was still tired not even five minutes ago, you sure were wild now.

Or maybe it was when the group had movie night. You did seem a little down, but then again, it was past your bedtime. Daniela and Megan certainly didn’t help when they kept feeding you sweets, even when Manon gave them side eyes from the other end of the couch, while Sophia kept whispering empty threats to them.

Still, at the time, none of it had felt unusual enough to raise any alarm bells in her head. You were unpredictable by nature. One minute, you were ricocheting off the walls with enough energy to rival a sugar-crazed hurricane, and the next, you were drooping against the nearest warm body like someone had flipped an invisible switch. The victim of this behavior this time was Lara.

Manon remembered glancing over, briefly distracted from whatever was happening on-screen. Your cheeks had looked a little pink, which stirred a little unease in her stomach, but Daniela had just laughed and pinched one gently.

“Too many gummies,” she’d cooed. "Little Mac here has a little sweet tooth."

Manon rolled her eyes, muttering something about that being exactly why she told them not to keep feeding you sugar after eight. That didn't stop the smile from forming on her face as she watched you let out another big yawn, leaning more of your weight into Lara's side.

Even when she carried you back to her and Dani's shared room later that night, your head heavy against her shoulder and your arms limp with exhaustion, she hadn’t thought much of the warmth pressed against her neck; she’d only smiled to herself, thinking it was from all the running around you did earlier in the day.

The shift happened somewhere in the dead of the upcoming winter night. The quiet hit the way it only did at three A.M. when the city traffic outside holds its breath, like it's waiting for permission to continue its screaming. Manon woke up not to a sharp cry but to a burning, restless weight digging into her side. When she blindly reached out her hand, it touched your forehead, and the heat radiating from it made her eyes pop open. She sat up quickly, the few remnants of sleep vanishing from her mind upon the sensation, as she locked eyes with your figure.

You were shaking violently beneath the covers, your little hands blindly crawling at the fabric of her sleep shirt, attempting to pull her closer. Small whimpers exited your mouth, like words were too hard to form in your state of mind. And that instantly triggered Manon's fight-or-flight mode.

She scooped you up into her lap, whispering soothing words into your tangle of curls, but you only let out another pathetic whine. "Mama, es tuet weh." you whimpered into her neck, voice raspy and breathless. "Mir isch chalt, Mama…" (Mama, it hurt. I cold, Mama...)

Your regression back to Swiss German sent a spike of adrenaline through Manon's veins. It wasn't like you didn't use the language all the time; you were still learning how to speak full sentences in English since you came to the States. But this was completely different. It was like your brain was so tired that it short-circuited and forgot all of the months of English you had been taught. It made your mind retreat back to the safety of your mother tongue.

"Oh Liebling, es wird scho guet gah." She switched to the familiar language with ease. Her voice dropped into a fierce, protective whisper as she rocked you. "Mama hät dich. Mama ist hier." (Oh, darling, it's going to be okay. Mama's got you. Mama's here.)

However, it seemed like no matter how many times Manon tried to hush your cries with her words or ran her fingers through your curls, nothing could make you calm down. It was like your brain refused to let your little body rest in its most vulnerable moment. Manon's heart ached just thinking of how much pain you were experiencing. And she knew better by now that there was no way she could fix this with a snap of her fingers.

She stood up from the bed, trying to maintain a steady grip on your shuddering body. It wasn't like you were going to fall anyway; your grip on her shirt collar was strong. She tried to stay as quiet as possible so as not to awaken her roommate. The Latina was always cranky if she was woken up suddenly.

The floorboards of the dorm creaked beneath her careful movements as she made her way to the living room. Her eyes scanned the spacious area, trying to think back to where she had last placed the thermometer. She was the last one in the group to be sick (shocker, I know), so she should know where it was last placed, right?

"Where the fuck is it..." Manon muttered frustratedly. "I swear it wasn't this hard to find last time."

If Manon were in a clearer state of mind, she would've found a more appropriate word choice, knowing that you were around. She did have a potty mouth, but her kid didn't have to follow in her footsteps. However, with it being 3 A.M. and her stress levels running high, she couldn't care less. She just wanted to find this stupid thermometer, take your temperature, and find some solution to take away your pain. But since she couldn't do that, the next logical step was to give you some children's Tylenol to bring down your fever and cuddle you back to sleep.

She tried to unwrap your arms from her neck and put you on the couch for a few moments so she could have an easier time finding you some medicine. Unluckily for her, however, you were not having it one bit.

The moment Manon tried to crouch, your attitude immediately grew sour. Whines and whimpers escaped past your lips, your body chasing after the missing warmth of your mama. Your little fingers twisted into the collar of her night shirt with surprising strength, your legs wrapping around her waist. You gasped out refusals that Manon couldn't quite understand, but she knew that it wasn't good from how your breath kept hitching.

Manon froze. She expected a tantrum, but this was something worse. The next sound that followed wasn't a cry. Your body went rigid in her arms. Your dark eyes, which had already been glassy due to your fever, lit up in panic, your head whipping from side to side.

Before Manon could even register the shift or ask you what was wrong, a violent heave racked your teensy frame, and all the contents of your stomach came up in a miserable rush. It soaked straight through her shirt and splattered the living room hardwood floor, shattering the quiet.

Your entire body was left trembling as you continued to gag. A high-pitched wail left your mouth, but it was suffocated as you buried your tear-soaked face into her shoulder.

"Oh, Schatz, it's okay, it's okay. Mama's got you," Manon choked out, completely ignoring the mess dripping down her back and the sour scent hitting her nose. She rubbed your back in a frantic motion, trying her best to comfort you while keeping her own emotions at bay. She hated seeing you suffer.

A door down the hallway clicked open.

Manon braced herself for complaining from one of the girls, already ready to explain the situation, but it was Yoonchae who stepped out. Her long brown hair was lying messily across her shoulders, making it very apparent that she had just woken up. The Korean girl blinked against the dim light of the living room, her eyes adjusting to the scene just as you let out another pathetic gag against Manon's collarbone. Any lingering drowsiness instantly vanished from the maknae's face. She didn't make any complaint about the sour smell beginning to hang in the air; instead, her features hardened with a calm, instinctive focus that almost made Manon forget she was just sixteen years old.

"Unnie, don't move," Yoonchae whispered urgently. She disappeared into the kitchen, returning quickly with a small trash can and placing it right by Manon's feet. She then ran back to the bathroom, a warm washcloth in her hand as she knelt beside the couch. "Give them to me. You change. I wash them."

"They're not letting go." Her voice was tight with exhaustion and tears as you continued to weep miserably into her neck.

"Okay, I've got floor."

Manon sank into the cushions, her arms tightening around your shivering frame. Yoonchae dropped to her knees. The youngest member reached out, using the cloth to carefully wipe the sour residue from your chin and mouth. Her eyes were full of nothing but worry.

"Is okay, little Mac," Yoonchae purred, her English a little slurred due to how late it was. All her effort was focused on you. Her hand smoothed down your wild, sweat-damp curls. "Yoonie is fixing. No cry."

You let out a weak gasp, your eyes slightly rolling up to look at her through the haze of tears. You didn't quite understand the words, but the soothing tone worked. Your cries dropped into pathetic, trembling wimpers, your forehead returning to rest against Manon's collarbone as Yoonchae quietly grabbed a roll of paper towels and disinfectant spray.

The mess was still pooled on the floorboards—they needed to clean that up soon. But for the first time in this chaotic mess, Manon felt a little weight lift from her shoulders.

By eight in the morning, the California sun was beginning to cut through the cracks of the living room's blinds, casting long amber stripes across the freshly scrubbed hardwood. The floor had been cleaned, and the horrible stench no longer lingered, but the tension in the dorm still hadn't cleared out.

By now, the rest of the girls had filtered out of their rooms one by one, their eyes heavy with sleep. But once their eyes locked onto the scene on the couch, the attention quickly shifted to one of extreme worry.

The quiet clinking of mugs and the low, urgent murmur of voices from the kitchen provided a stark contrast to the absolute stillness around the couch. Sophia leaned against the counter, her otherwise silky hair thrown into a messy bun, while Daniela carefully shut the refrigerator door, a carton of milk in hand. One by one, everyone had gravitated toward the living room; the initial morning drowsiness entirely evaporated the moment they saw the state you were in.

You were practically glued to Manon's chest, buried beneath a heavy knit blanket that Lara had brought out, but looking at it now, it probably wasn't the smartest idea. Your dark curls were damp and tangled, sticking to the back of your neck like tape. Your light-tanned skin was radiating a deep, baking heat that felt more like a furnace than a two-year-old. Sweat was soaking through the fresh shirt Lara had also retrieved for Manon.

"Let me see," Sophia sighed, padding over to the couch. She held the thermometer—which Megan had found shoved in the back of the background cabinet—and held it out towards your mouth. Manon used her free arm to pull down your chin, letting Sophia gently slide the device under your tongue. It let out a sharp beep that made you flinch.

Sophia's eyes darkened as she read the flashing numbers. 102.1 °F (38.94 °C).

"Oh, Schatz," Manon's voice cracked. She slid her hand flat against your back, feeling the rapid, shallow rhythm of your breathing.

At the sound of her voice, your eyelids fluttered open halfway, glassy and unfocused. A pathetic whine escaped from your throat, and your small fingers twisted frantically into the fabric of her collar, smashing your hot forehead into the crook of her neck. When Manon tried to shift her weight even just an inch to relieve the ache growing in her lower back, your entire body went rigid. She thought for a moment that you were going to be sick again, but all that came out was a loud, distressed sob ripping past your cracked lips.

"Nei, nei, ich han dich im Griff. Mama bewegt sich nöd, das verspreche ich." (No, no, I've got you. Mama's not moving, I promise.) Manon reassured, instantly anchoring your back against her chest. She gave Sophia a look of desperation. "They can't even handle me adjusting my legs. I don't know what to do."

Sophia handed the thermometer to Daniela, her face shifting into a more serious expression. "The Tylenol isn't slowing it down at all. We need to give them a cool bath to cool them down safely. Dani, go start the water—not too hot or freezing. Just lukewarm."

Daniela just nodded, rushing down the hallway.

"I don't know how we're going to get them into the tub," Manon muttered. She ran her fingers frantically through your sweat-damp curls, even as your small frame continued to tremble in her hold. "They're terrified in this state. It's like they think if they let go of me, I'll disappear."

"Not if we have anything to say about it," a voice chimed in.

Megan and Lara stepped into the living room, their sleeves rolled up, looking as if they were preparing for a mission. Megan had a plastic storage bin under her arm; shapes of toy cars and other bath toys rattled inside as she moved.

"The entertainment has been covered," Megan said, her whisker dimples breaking through the room's tension. She walked over, kneeling next to your side of the couch, waving a tiny plastic sports car in front of your glassy eyes. "Hey, little Mac. The Ferrari needs a car war. And I know only one person who can clean it perfectly. Can you help Mei Mei?"

You let out a weak sniffle, your head turning just a fraction to look at the toy. Your grip on Manon didn't loosen, but the previously panicked look in your eyes softened just a bit at the sight of Megan's animated face.

"Come on, little one," Lara purred, reaching out to gently squeeze your hand. "Mama will hold your hand the whole time. Let's go fix these cars."

It took a coordinated group effort to migrate from the living room to the bathroom. Manon stood with a soft grunt, her muscles screaming from the countless hours of sitting rigid with a human pinned against her chest. Lara carefully pulled the blanket from your back, quickly replacing the shield with her hand when you began to shiver again.

The lights didn't affect your sensitive eyes; your face remained buried from everyone. The bathroom was thick with steam. Daniela was kneeling beside the tub, her hand swishing through the water to test the temperature.

"Okay, Schatz, we're just going to sit in the water for a little bit," Manon murmured. She sat down on the closed toilet lid, maneuvering you around. The second your skin left the safety of her shirt, your bottom lip began to tremble violently. Your fingers clamped onto her gold necklace with surprising strength for a two-year-old. You let out another sharp sob, your dark eyes wide with panic. "Nei, nei, lueg mi a. Lueg Mama ah. Ich han dich. Gsehsch du?" (No, no, look at me. Look at Mama. I've got you. See?) With ease, she began to slide your clothes off until you were left bare against her chest, your body still ablaze, but your shoulders were a little less tense at the skin-to-skin contact with your mama.

Manon didn't try to force your hands away. Instead, she knelt right at the edge of the porcelain tub, lowering your shivering body into the shallow water, making sure to keep her arm firmly wrapped around your torso and her right hand securely locked in your burning grip.

The initial splash of the lukewarm water made you gasp, your chest hitching while tears spilled from your eyes. But before a full-blown meltdown could start, Megan swooped in.

She dropped the plastic storage bin onto the bath mat and forcefully slammed a bright red plastic sports car right onto the edge of the tub. "Oh no! The Ferrari is being chased by the po-po!" Megan gasped dramatically, making a loud, screeching brake sound to mimic the vehicle. She seemed to be totally unfazed at the way the bathwater was splashing onto her clothes. "Mac, help me! We need to escape right now!"

Lara dropped next to Megan, grabbing another toy from the bin. This time, a black police car. She dunked it underwater with a loud shhhh sound. "Not so fast, criminal! You're coming back to the station with me. Mac, help me create a roadblock to stop her!"

Your fever-hazed eyes slowly tracked the bright red car, your tiny thumb slipping out of your mouth. Your breathing was still shallow and rapid, but the crazy show your aunts were putting on was starting to override the panic. Slowly and hesitantly, you reached out a small, slippery fist. You patted the top of the red car, letting out a weak, congested puff of air through your noise; it was the closest thing they were getting to laugh.

The dramatics of the car chase seemed to be working its magic, as you didn't even notice Dani use a cup to pour cool water over your shoulders or Manon using her manicured nails to lightly scrub in some baby shampoo into your curls. By the time the water was beginning to lose its warmth, the stickiness from your skin had evaporated, leaving it extremely smooth. Your dark eyes were half-closed with your head leaning against the ledge; you almost missed Megan making one final, dramatic crash into the water.

"Another big win for the racer." Manon's voice was thick with relief. She scooped your now-relaxed body out of the water. Lara was immediately there with a fluffy towel, wrapping you up like a burrito before you could even register what was happening.

Manon worked with practiced precision. She quickly dried you off before slipping you into some cotton pajamas. For someone who had been fighting for their life just thirty minutes ago, you offered no resistance. Your small frame was now completely limp, almost like a rag doll. You were completely and utterly exhausted.

A soft shadow fell across the bathroom doorway. Daniela peeked her head in, her hands carefully balancing a steaming bowl. Her dark eyes were soft with admiration when she looked at you.

"How's our Macaroni doing?" she called out softly, her voice dropping to a gentle whisper so she wouldn't startle you.

"Cooler," Manon breathed, a long, trembling sigh leaving her body as she adjusted her grip on your waist. "Much cooler. I think the worst of this war is over."

"Good. Soph and I made some plain oatmeal for them," Daniela said. "Just a little something to put in their tummy since I know it's all empty."

You obviously didn't have the energy to eat a full meal; however, with Manon's help and tender encouragement, you were able to take three small spoonfuls from Daniela before weakly turning your head back into Manon's shoulder, not before your hand reached out towards Daniela as if to say thank you in your own way. The Latina's heart completely melted at the action. She pressed a kiss to your knuckles. She had never grown up with an older or younger sibling, but anyone could've been fooled by how she acted around you.

When Manon returned to the sunlit living room, the space had been completely transformed. Sophia had laid out a fresh row of pillows along the center of the deep sectional. It almost resembled a bird's nest in Manon's opinion.

Manon sank down onto the cushions with a soft grunt. She lay back against the pillow, keeping your body cradled against her chest. Sophia smoothly slid next to her. She draped the knit blanket over you, tucking it around your shoulders so only your face could be seen. Daniela claimed the space right at the foot of the couch. She wasn't exactly touching you, but she was close enough in case you needed any more physical comfort.

Sandwiched securely between your mama and your aunties, the lingering panic in your small brain finally vanished. A soft, congested puff of air escaped your nose, your mouth softly sucking around the pacifier that Yoonchae managed to push past your snoring lips. The steady, overlapping rhythms of the girls' breathing became your lullaby.

Manon rested her chin on the top of your wet curls, her eyelids growing heavy. Sophia and Daniela watched the scene but didn't say anything, choosing to bask in the calm after the storm.

And for the first time that night, Manon finally allowed herself to relax as her body pulled her under. She knew you were safe; the girls were there to carry the weight off her shoulders—from grueling rehearsals to whiny, sticky babies—and she knew she had found her sisters for life.

— JORDY YAPPS !!

Hey, guys, girls and non-binaries. I am finally out with a new chapter after going through finals, a semi-accident, and some other troubles. But I made it!!

How did you guys like this one? I've been meaning to write a sickfic, and the opportunity finally fell in my lap. Let me know your thoughts and feelings about the series so far.

REMEMBER TO STAY GOLD, EVERYBODY!!

TAGLIST (17/50)

@martyyy7@laforajzx@huevitooo@katsattorney@nightmanon @sp1key0 @guysidkwhatuser@andyyyyy14@meganseyekon@urwavvy@jojifolklore @magenticz0ne @n0p35@skiendielific @k4mi-08 @ningro97@shuturmouthloser

i would loveeee to watch that turn into a serie please 🙏🏽, also if you don’t mind , if you want , idk i kinda feel i vibe between manon and sophia, would you be willing to make maphinz real?👀🫶🏽

Hiii anon

Thank you so much for your support, I really appreciate it, and I am definitely turning it into a series. 🧡

And to answer your question about the Manon and Sophia thing… I’m sorry to break the news to you but I will not be making Maphinz real. 🥹 I don’t really ship the girls like that, I more so see them as sisters. However, Sophia does act like a second mother to Y/N throughout the series, helping Manon with more of the heavy parenting and things like that (might have to make a oneshot based around it).

BUT DO NOT WORRY, because I do have a little surprise up my sleeve for Manon’s love interest in the series.

AGAIN thank you so so much for your support for the series. It really helps to motivate to write more things for you guys!!

#b3redproductions #katseye #katseye fanfiction #jordyyapps #manons little racer

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