18+ | An Adult with Too Many Interests

Credits of my avatar picture belongs to @redundantz Here is a link that leads straight to her page redundantz.tumblr.com Here is a link that leads to the fanart itself https://www.tumblr.com/redundantz/789822676455784448/huntrix-saja-boys

[ariqinonychinus]

Sneaky Kitten~

1.2K words. Fluff (a tiny bit smutty) Lightly proofread. MC trying her best to surprise her hubby

It was incredibly difficult to sneak up on Sylus. Impossible, really. Not only did he have a little spy to always keep him informed, but his senses were super human. He always heard you coming or even could smell the perfume you put on that morning.

Damn him and his dragon senses.

But you were determined to catch him off guard at least once. All of your attempts to get him when he was awake failed. So you decided to shift gears and try to get him in his sleep.

You set it up perfectly.

You sent him dinner. A big, hearty meal full of carbs and protein, matched with his favorite bottle of wine and topped with a pint of his favorite ice cream. As well as a cute note to go with it telling him if he doesn’t eat it, you will be really sad.

You also made sure to call him when you woke up. He would be heading to bed soon, finishing up some paperwork or a quick work out before showering. You distracted him by being needy over the phone. Saying you needed his voice and you wanted to hear him touch himself. He was more than happy to oblige and you got a rocking orgasm out of it. A win-win. He would be even more tired after that.

Next you had Luke and Kieran place one of your shirts in his bedroom. You told them to make it look like it was just left by mistake after a sleepover, tossed into some corner of the room that he would surely see. You made sure to wear it over night so it would smell a lot like you. You knew he wouldn’t be able to resist smelling it. He loved your smell. He craved it. It helped him relax. In the privacy of his own room, you knew he would curl up with it as he went to bed.

All this would be just the thing to lull him into a deep, deep sleep.

Sylus slept deeply, but still would wake up at a moment's notice if he needed to. But after all your planning, you are hoping it will get him in deep enough to not hear you sneak into his bedroom.

Luke texts you when he’s sure Sylus is asleep. You drive over, parking outside the garage so he doesn’t hear it opening. You slip inside one of the side entrances and tip toe to his room. The door is closed. You take a deep breath and turn the knob as slowly as you can. It is silent as you push it open.

The room is dark and you see a massive lump lying face down on the bed. The massive lump being your husband, sleeping on his stomach like he always did when he was alone. When your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can see he indeed does have your t-shirt curled up next to his face.

You smile. You love how well you know him and how you can predict what he will do. It almost makes you feel bad for what you are about to do. Almost.

You pad across the carpeted floor, watching him for any movement. When you get to his side, you take a deep breath to prepare yourself to pounce. However, you don’t quite get there. In the silence of the room, you hear a deep chuckle.

“After this, you’ll never be able to refute me calling you a kitten, sweetie.”

You sigh when you see one of his red eyes peeking up at you from his pillow. He’s smirking, triumphant. After all the work you put into this, you still couldn’t get him.

“For fucks sake.”

He tsks, rolling onto his side to look at you better. “You went to a lot of effort, sweetie. It’s too bad you can’t enjoy the fruits of your labor.”

You cross your arms. “Well you could have let me enjoy them.”

“I think the only one with fruits to enjoy is me.”

He reaches out, taking your arm and pulling you to him. You fall over him with a squeal as he cages you in his arms and rolls over so you can’t escape. His weight is pressing you to the bed. You squirm, but his massive body has you trapped.

“I had hoped my sweet wife was just wanting to spoil me with all the treats she left, but I knew she was up to something. Trying to ambush me in my sleep? Such a naughty, sneaky kitten.”

He rubs his nose against your cheek and down your neck. You whine, trying to push him off to no avail.

“The t-shirt was a nice touch. Though I will have to have words with the twins for entering my room without permission.”

You scrunch your nose at him. “I gave them permission.”

“Oh? I didn’t realize you had the authority to grant such permissions,” he teases.

“I’m the bosslady, I can do what I want. Including buttering you up to get you in a deep sleep.”

He lifts his head to look at you. You can see his right eye is glowing just a bit. He loves it when you pull rank. When you boss him and his henchmen around like the proper Lady of Onychinus that you are. He leans down, you think to kiss you, but he bites your cheek, chewing on it. You shriek and can’t help but laugh.

“Syyyy cmon!”

He rumbles against your cheek, releasing it and licking where he bit. It tickles, making you laugh more. Your disappointment from your failed plan fades away. Damn him.

“You’re such an ass.”

“An ass you chose to marry.”

“You begged me.”

“Did I? I don’t remember it that way, sweetie.”

“Then your memory is starting to go, old man.”

He ignores your slight, kissing down your neck. Your eyes close and you lean into him. One of his hands grips your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. You can feel his desire growing between his legs.

“I thought about calling to ask you what you were up to, but I knew your antics would lead you here. Right where I wanted you. In my bed, under me. Won’t you stay with me, sweetie? It’s your day off, after all.”

You whine, trying to resist him. You’d made plans for after your prank to get some things done around your house. Chores you’d been neglecting and errands you needed to run. But your sleepy, warm, and clingy husband was a much more tempting offer.

“You need to sleep, Sy. And I’ve got some stuff to do.”

He grumbles, sounding grumpy. He doesn’t let you go. He presses his hips further into you, starting a slow rhythm.

“Sleep is the last thing on my mind, kitten. For your planned sabotage, I think you should make it up to me.”

You feel yourself growing needy. He cups your cheek and kisses you, sliding his tongue in to claim your mouth. You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. You can’t resist him. You don’t even want to bother trying.

“You’re lucky I love you.” You whisper between kisses.

He smirks against your lips, biting your bottom one. “I tell myself that every day.”

[thelittledaily-deactivated20260]

REBLOG THIS TO GIVE THE PERSON YOU REBLOGGED THIS FROM A GOLD STAR BECAUSE THEY’VE BEEN STELLAR TODAY AND THEY DESERVE IT ⭐️

[ariqinonychinus]

What’s the Catch?

Baby’s first tumblr fic. Let me know what you think!

Pure fluff. Lightly proofread.

665 words~

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Your boyfriend Sylus is the best relationship you’ve ever been in. Even if he is only one of the few you’ve had. He was perfect. A little too perfect.

He’s tall, handsome, rich, communicative, patient, funny, interesting, and literally everything in between. You knew he could be cold, but not with you. He is soft and gentle with you. You are the only one to see that side of him. He dotes on you in every single way possible.

And it was bothering you.

No one is this good. Not without being a psychopath. And sure, Sylus is a dangerous gang leader at the top of the Association’s most wanted list. But other than THAT, he is a perfect boyfriend.

You decide to ask him about it one night. Out of the blue with no warning as you sit next to him on your couch.

“So what’s wrong with you?”

He looks up at you, over his glasses, stopping the cleaning of his gun. He looks confused, albeit still entertained by his kitten’s breaking of the peace and quiet.

“Whatever do you mean, sweetie?” He asks.

“This is the best relationship I’ve ever had. We never fight. You are rich and handsome. What’s the catch?” You huff, poking his arm.

Unaffected by your poke, he smirks. He sets down his gun and drapes his arm across the couch behind you.

“Who said there had to be a catch?”

“Life? I don’t know. Common sense? The saying ‘if something seems too good to be true, it is’.”

“This is a strange way of complimenting me, kitten. You are allowed to simply enjoy things, you know. You don’t have to be so on guard all the time.”

You raise your eyebrow at him. “Hello Pot, this is Kettle.”

He chuckles and moves his arm around you, pulling you into him. You move without objection, resting your head against his shoulder. He rests his head on yours and starts to play with one of your hands.

“There are many things ‘wrong’ with me, sweetie. I’m nocturnal, my schedule is constantly packed, I disappear for long periods of time—”

You cut him off. “Okay, yes, but those aren’t problems. Not really. I miss you when you are busy or gone, but that isn’t like a character flaw. The point is you are gentle, patient, caring. Everything! You’re everything someone could want in a partner. So what gives?”

Sylus beams, smiling against your hair. You aren’t trying to flatter him—in fact it sounds more like an accusation. But you are confirming everything he strives for with you. You’ve noticed and are feeling the sanctuary he’s tried to reciprocate. The same one you’ve given him time and time again. Even if you don’t remember all of them.

He kisses your head. “Would you like me to be more devious? Perhaps I can forget to text you before I go to sleep? Or maybe let you pay for one of our dates. How does that sound?”

He’s teasing. He always teases. He’s not going to do either of those things. Especially letting you pay for anything.

“Syyy. That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

He lifts the hand he’s playing with to his lips, peppering gentle kisses along your knuckles.

“I know, kitten. I don’t have an answer for you. I try my best to give you what you deserve. If you see it as perfection, then I think you have your answer.”

Your eyes soften. There he goes. Being sickly sweet again. You wanna smack him to try and cover your blushy face, but you don’t have the heart to after he said that. Instead, you scoot closer, climbing up onto his lap and getting comfy. He lets you, guiding your waist with his godly hands.

You gently bite his cheek, kissing the spot right after and tucking your face into his neck.

“I love you, you infuriating man.”

He squeezes you, kissing your forehead.

“I love you too.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ahhhhhhhh I haven't written in so long. But I have missed it and posting is what keeps me motivated so I hope y'all enjoyed it.

I will figure out my style as I go. I'm hoping to get some custom dividers to spice things up hehehe.

I will probably only write for Sylus, but who knows? Maybe one of the other boys will stir inspiration in me. But I am a Sylus girlie, through and through.

[feastofdesires]

Sylus likes a challenge

So trying to get your attention when you’re unbelievably oblivious is his favorite, most frustrating pastime.

It’s even worse that you’re such a hopeless romantic. You read stories and play games involving the delights of romance that make you blush, bite your lip, and squirm in barely self-contained delight. Yet, when Sylus presents you with flowers or takes you on a one-on-one outing watching the sunset drift into starlight, your adorably oblivious self sees it as nothing more than kind gestures of a friend.

A bestie.

Sylus regularly gets into his own room after such outings, frustrated in a way that has his ears red and an incredulous laugh squeezing its way out of him. He has to take cold showers regularly after seeing you.

You touch him without so much as a thought, but shy away when he wants to also engage in such casual closeness. You were far more an expert of playing hot and cold with him, and you weren’t even trying.

It all changes when you suggest a silly little drinking game while you show him yet another one of your favorite shows. It’s not enough that you were both knocking back constant shots, but it was enough that Sylus stared at you more than usual.

And when you finally ask why he was staring?

He’s grabbing your jaw, rubbing a thumb on your bottom lip.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for weeks.” He murmurs low. “Yet you still somehow don’t get it.”

He’s crowding your space now. The heat on your face isn’t just the alcohol. You know you could push him away and he’d listen, but-

“I want you.” He breathes against your lips, nose brushing yours. “I need you.”

Your lungs only fuel the faintest whimper when his hips naturally settle between your thighs. You didn’t even realize you were gripping him closer with clawed fingers in his upper arms.

“Tell me… tell me you want me too.” He’s growling against your lips until you finally close that last little bit of space between you.

[tadanini]

[chaoticbardlady99]

LADs Fantasy Arranged Marriage AU

I was doing a writing warm up and it grew a life of it's own. This has probably been done a thousand times before but oh well.

Pairings: King! Sylus x Least Favored Princess! Reader, Underdog King! Caleb x Plebeian! Reader, King! Zayne x Beloved Princess! Reader, King! Rafayel x Princess! Reader, Prince! Xavier x High Priestess! Reader

CW: Violence, some families that really suck, uhhhh I don't think there is anything else

EDIT- I put that Caleb has a white horse because I love that he is such a contradiction to himself. He appears as one thing but he’s sooo not that. I just love that about him and giving him a black horse felt like it didn’t capture his complexity

All KIND likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

Sylus:

You’re actually the one who wasn’t supposed to be marrying Sylus.

You are well known for being the castle's little Heathen with your riding skirts and sword fighting, and metalworking, more of a blacksmith’s wife than a Queen- in the least tasteful way.

It was your baby sister’s duty to marry the very rich Dragon King, but she’s the beloved baby. Your parent’s dearest- they couldn’t marry her off to a monster!

Hence why you are being sent to the literal serpent’s lair and quite likely your death

When you arrive, you’re surprised by how accommodating everyone already is and you fear the worst for when they realize you aren’t actually the bride to be

Sylus is gone to battle when you first arrive- something about the border being attacked- so you end up being pampered and treated like a queen

You learn very quickly that the people living under the Dragon King’s rule are very happy, quirky, and kind people.

You feel like you’re gonna cry on the final night before he comes home because you truly have come to adore “your” ladies in waiting and have felt very welcome by the entire culture around you

Your Knights specifically have grown very fond of you and you of them- Luke and Kieran are like the little brother’s you never had.

When you were brought before your future husband in his private chambers, you were preparing for your death.

 You look entirely different from your sister- different hair and eye color, slightly different bone and body structure. Surely this will be your last night alive.

However, you’re surprised to find that his once irritated expression upon your arrival disappears and turns into something entirely soft and victorious.

“Good, they did exactly what I wanted them to do.”

You find out that it was entirely on purpose- Sylus knew they wouldn’t send your sister willingly, but they knew they would be a pain in the ass if he asked for your hand in marriage.

“Why don’t you want to marry our youngest,” he mocks, “she’s so ladylike and proper.”

You spend the next several weeks together and you fall in love with each other easily- it’s hard to watch him go defend the Kingdom border again, worrying if he’ll come back or not.

He comes back, but he’s injured. You’re the first person waiting to greet him before the drawbridge is even brought down again. 

You help him get cleaned up and tend to his wounds- chastising him for his recklessness- and he smiles through the winces and pain. 

“Will you marry me?” he asks that night as you lay together, entirely unconventional but you had to know he was real and he you, “please be my Queen. Stand by my side.”

“I thought that was the plan, silly,” you teased.

“You will always have a home here, but marrying me and being by my side is a hard choice.”

You shook your head and kissed him sweetly, “no it’s not- it’s the easiest decision I have ever had to make.”

It’s a grand wedding and your whole family is invited- as followers of your Kingdom because Sylus conquered them as your wedding gift.

Your sister is thrilled though- she meets a nice man and it ends up being okay. She isn’t forced into royal duty like she was afraid to be and you both get to spend lots of quality time together.

Your parents, however, ended up in the Gallows after they tried to object to your Union.

Needless to say, you live a long life together- extremely happy and admired by all- and have a headstrong, stoic little girl (Luke and Kieran are great babysitters btw)

Caleb:

You and Caleb grew up in a poor village

Orphans together, you grew up on the streets and became petty thieves together to try to get by

You were the brains, he was the brawn

Eventually he was drafted into the military- they were just dragging people off the streets and he hid you in an abandoned building.

A year or two passed and the war ended, but Caleb hadn’t come back and you accepted that he may be gone

You struggled to live- having to turn tricks in brothels and take questionable jobs that probably should have taken your life a thousand times over

Another year passes and there is suddenly a massive war horn and an army from an unfamiliar flag charging the Kingdom. 

You were running through the Alleyway when you were cut off by a man on a white horse (yes, I had to, okay?)

You back against the wall and try to make yourself as small as possible as the man makes his way over to you.

When he takes off his helmet, you can’t help but burst into tears as you look at the man you thought disappeared from your life forever

He looks healthier, stronger, and still like his old goofy self, but a bit more steely.

“You are as beautiful as I remember you being,” he whispered before kissing you, “now I feel whole again.”

Caleb immediately makes you his Queen and anyone who dares speak of your past is pretty much executed on the spot (in spite of your protests).

Turns out Caleb had been taken Prisoner by another kingdom, bided his time for a year or so, took over the whole damn place, and then came to get you.

He isn’t upset with you for how you survived, he’s more upset with himself for leaving you to fend for yourself and wishes he had acted sooner.

You spend a lot of nights holding him after a nightmare of him being gone and vice versa- you two ached for each other every day and not knowing the other’s fate had been terrifying.

The wedding is gorgeous, everyone attends, and you make Caleb 100 times more likeable in the eyes of the people he took over.

There are whispers of the King being sweet on his Queen- something that hadn’t been heard of in centuries. 

“Caleb! You need to wait until I’m done gardening or I’ll never lie with you again!”

You’re the only one who gives the King a hard time or lip- the castle staff is pretty much gaping with shock everytime you command him around.

It’s even more jarring that the King listens like an obedient puppy.

There is the occasional uprising and nonsense, but overall, you both live a happy life and run an even happier kingdom- your love for each other is felt by and seen by all.

And if anyone forgets, they have your twin boys causing mischief in the townsquare to remind them.

Rafayel:

You and Rafayel had been betrothed since you were both in diapers.

You both hated it.

You never met one another, but it’s all anyone could ever seem to talk about.

“Do this for your husband that” and “your queen won’t like that” this

Both of you were so fed up that you were both considering having the other one assassinated so you didn’t have to go through with it. 

You accidentally meet each other at a party and talk for a whole hour before realizing who the other person is

It’s a fun conversation- you enjoy his company immensely and he yours

Then you find out who each other are and it’s like watching two Betta fish in the same tank

The wedding is stunning, but rigid and even the warm ocean air couldn’t bring any joy to this union.

But it wasn’t because you were unhappy to be marrying him, in fact, it’s the opposite.

You thought about your conversations that night religiously- the way he smiled, the sound of his laughter- how he made you laugh.

You didn’t realize that he felt the same way, but both of you are being dumb as hell and pretending to be unhappy with the marriage rather than the gaping loneliness. 

It’s about a month into your marriage that Rafayel finally breaks.

He storms into your chambers one day and is ready to give you a piece of his mind when he finds you crying.

“I-I’m sorry yo-you don’t want me, your Highness.”

Oh it could not have been further from the truth.

You hadn’t consummated your marriage yet, but that night you did

Rafayel showed you over and over again how much you mean to him- how much he desires you.

Sometimes you do get heated and fight with one another- Rafayel has a tendency to put his needs below others and it leaves you to prioritize him.

Rafayel often takes you to the expensive, private beach home he owns along the far end of your kingdom together

You eventually have two headstrong twin girls and a spoiled mini-Rafayel

Rafayel is a very attentive father to his “little guppies” and you are all often seen together- the entire kingdom is close with the Royal family.

You live a long, beautiful life together with the occasional argument, but Rafayel always brings a bouquet of flowers to apologize (even if he isn’t necessarily in the wrong).

Zayne:

You come from a weaker, smaller Kingdom that celebrates spring and you love where you live. You never wanted to leave.

You are their only daughter- the youngest of 9 boys. 

The King in the Arctic has requested your hand in marriage

You’ve only met him a handful of times at Galas in other kingdoms, you have never had any desire to visit the Arctic.

You spend your last day in your Greenhouse and enjoying the warm sun

Your mother sobs as she bids you farewell and your father won’t look you in the eye

The trip is borderline freezing, but a carriage and horses more fit for the snow intercept your caravan.

It’s your betrothed- Zayne- he was worried about your journey and wanted to ensure your safety and comfort.

The carriage is warm and donned with warm furs but you’re still extremely homesick.

You try to make the most of it and you try to be enthusiastic about planning the wedding

He says you can invite your family and already has designated guest rooms in the house for all of them to visit whenever they want.

You and Zayne don’t spend much time together- it always seems like he has an excuse to leave the room when you enter.

It’s extremely lonely- you miss your brothers, your parents, your greenhouse.

The week before your wedding, Zayne finally speaks to you for more than thirty minutes, in fact he takes your entire afternoon.

He takes you to a gift he’s been working on and cultivating for weeks- a Greenhouse with all of the plants you adore from home and a garden outside with plants that thrive in the cold.

“I am… not the best with expressing my emotions,” he says softly, “I hope this conveys how much you being here at my side means to me.” 

Your wedding is like a winter wonderland- your entire Kingdom comes and Zayne promises to protect your hometown and you with his life during your vows. 

You learn to love the snow and Winter holidays like Yule and New Years

You become an ice skating expert, you often take long evening strolls through the garden with Zayne, you spend your evenings curled up together next to a fireplace with a book or him with his reports.

He blossoms with marriage- the once shy man who was afraid to be around you is ravenous for your company, both physically and mentally.

You spend everyday being treated like a Queen and you treat him like a King in every sense of the way.

Your opinions are valued and you have made lots of changes for the Arctic kingdom- including creating more trade routes and ensuring safe spaces for the Hunters incase they get snowed in.

Zayne could not be more proud of the Queen you have become and the man you have encouraged him to be- he is often seen smiling now which was bizarre to the Kingdom’s people for the first year and a half (especially when he was passing out spring flower baskets with you).

The Arctic begins to host a spring festival, but never on the same day as your hometown. 

Zayne takes you back home every year for the spring festival and eventually your three young daughters come along with you.

Xavier: 

You are a High Priestess in your Kingdom- a seer and Prophetess of sorts.

Xavier is the Crowned Prince who is supposed to be looking for a bride.

He is introduced to the cherished Princess of your Kingdom, but he only asks about you.

You try to explain that you are a High Priestess- you aren’t to marry- but that only seems to encourage his need to sweep you off your feet.

Xavier leaves your Kingdom as an enemy to the Kingdom (you don’t just reject the Princess), but he continues to send extravagant gifts to you and Holy objects. 

You start exchanging letters and against your common sense, you fall in love with him and you desire to be with him.

You spend months feeling a sick guilt and a rush of adrenaline- your secret love affair with the Prince of an enemy kingdom created an inner turmoil in you that you had never felt before.

The Princess, however, was still very upset about being rejected and noticed that the High Priestess was recently wearing very beautiful jewelry- not the humble bullshit of the church.

Your room was ransacked by the King’s men and they found your correspondences.

Your trial isn’t very long- the evidence is damning.

You’re doomed to hang following your treason.

You dream of Xavier saving you at the last moment, but you chalk it up to wishful thinking.

You are being walked to the Gallows when the canon fire begins.

The Kingdom is under attack!

The guards rush you to the Gallows- the King demands your death and maybe this kingdom will leave them alone when they realize their prized High Priestess is dead.

The rope necklace is heavy- as heavy as your chest as tears rain down your face.

You think of Xavier- your light, your Prince. You wish you could have seen him one final time.

Your dream comes true- Xavier saves you just in time- sending a flash of light through the rope right as they dropped you.

You hit the ground, but he’s by your side in an instance while his soldiers arrest the King, the Princess, and the rest of the Soldiers.

“I got here as quickly as I could,” he touches your face, unsure if you are real at all, scared he didn’t actually make it in time, “I will never let anyone harm you again.”

And he didn’t

You went from being a High Priestess to a crowned Princess, but you were still sought out by the Kingdom folks for fortune telling and religious counsel.

Your wedding is gorgeous (for the obvious reasons), but because Xavier’s brother is ahead of him for King, you become Duke and Duchess in a smaller town within the Kingdom boundaries and live in a rustic, cozy cottage together in a beautiful neighboring Kingdom.

You are beloved by your subjects- you and Xavier both- and are very close with them.

The day your baby boy is born, the entire kingdom celebrates- from the tiniest village to the biggest castle.

The light of your union shines in every corner of your shared Kingdom. You live a long life together and people far and wide believe you were divinely brought together.

The economy of the small town you live in is booming- you and Xavier ensure that everyone is well fed and taken care of.

Oh and people learn not to flirt with you pretty quickly- the first and last guy lost his pinkie.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Can I request Clingy Astarion headcanons with Tav and he really likes sleepy cuddles too.

Astarion, now that he knows cuddles are a thing, is obsessed with them.

He spends every night curled up next to Tav. Right next to them on the bed, with his arms around them; even though he doesn’t technically sleep.

He also makes a grand show of ‘going to bed’ now.

Commenting on how late it’s gotten, dramatic yawns, inching closer & closer to the bedroom.

If that doesn’t work Astarion will just pout. Much like a grumpy cat who is ready for bed and his owner won’t get move.

Staring around the corner at them with a piercing, miffed gaze until they come along.

Only content when they are finally in bed ready for rest.

[rafayelspet]

Can I request how the boys reacting to you telling him how you refuse to kiss him at all until you're fully recovered please? Reader just doesn't want him to be sick too!

i'm contagious !

looool , that was fun to write :) hope ya enjoy

tags : zayne , caleb , sylus , xavier , rafayel x reader (separate), modern AU , sequel of this

zayne

out of the lads, i believe that he'll 100% wait until your sickness is no longer contagious before he actually kisses you. i also do believe that if you were the one to insist on a small kiss on his cheek before isolating for 10 days (which technically, you are no longer contagious), zayne will not allow that

he'll be firm but gentle on this boundary ; why ? because he is a doctor. he can't have it on his good conscience that he could possibly pass on this sickness to his patients while at work

he'll for sure make up for the wait and give you plenty of kisses and cuddles afterwards

while he may seem a tad nonchalant and careless about not kissing you, this man is trembling with desire inside -- he just doesn't want to make it about him and will wait patiently for your full recovery before jumping you

also highly believes that sex is a remedy for cold ; if he is off work for days, he's pounding you no questions asked

caleb

fuck his coworkers at Skyhaven and his entourage ; he's kissing, cuddling and fucking you regardless. even better if he can spread your flu to others

in fact, caleb is hoping to get sick so he can isolate with you to full recovery

heavy on the idea of : whatever is yours is mine, even sickness

sylus

will only kiss you if you allow him ; you're already weak at it is, he's not adding more burden on you

like zayne, he doesn't want you to focus on him and his needs ; your health matters more than anything at the moment, in his mind

he'll for sure won't insist on kisses and cuddles if you don't want, but deeply believes that his immune system is made out of gold and can't get sick (will keep repeating that)

while taking care of you, he'll sneak some pecks here and there, then smirk arrogantly while telling you that he didn't kiss you per se

xavier

forget about it, your words go from one ear and out the other

what kind of logic is that you don't want to kiss him just because you're sick ? he'll argue that he's already breathing the particles that carry your flu, so it won't change anything

rafayel

like the other request, he's initially wearing a face mask to ''protect'' himself from your sickness ; i genuinely think it's because rafayel wants to piss you off so you can tackle him down (he loves seeing your feisty side at times)

and of course, once you touch him, he'll play the victim card, calling himself ''weak and defenseless'' ; what are you going to do to repair your gestures now, cutie ?

like caleb, doesn't give a shit if he spreads it to others. he'll even use this flu as an excuse to not attend his expositions, to complete his works (unfortunately for thomas), and to also quarantine with you

[tadanini]

[the-kr8tor]

Hobie nurses you back to health.

Feat: the cats

Pairing: Hobie Brown x f!reader / Spider-Punk x f!reader

Word count: 2.2k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, fluff, description of sickness, established relationship.

My Masterlist

A continuation of this fic but you don't need to read it to understand this one.

*I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms*

Carefully swinging from building to building, Hobie clutches the fragile bag in his hand, careful not to spill a drop of the precious chicken soup from your favourite deli.

Before he left for patrol in the morning, you already felt the sickness crawling in your throat, so much so you didn't kiss Hobie goodbye that morning, in case you got him sick. He didn't want to leave you alone at first, but you insisted that it's probably just hay fever. And you're not alone, you've got your three little gremlins with you to keep you company.

You know that the city needed Spider-Punk more than you needed your boyfriend. That's why Hobie's so adamant in taking care of you now that his patrol is over, and all seems to be quiet around the city. All his attention is now on you, and making you better.

Hobie finally reaches your flat, he perches himself on your fire escape, peeking through your dimly lit bedroom, he sees your folded form buried under a mountain of blankets. Your air purifier puffs out clouds directly at your contorted face. He hates seeing you like this, he should've taken a break in his patrol, if it weren't for this week's villain, he would've had the time to check up on you.

He feels bad leaving you alone in this state.

Hobie opens your window, a gust of much needed fresh air enters your room, an orange glow hits your face directly.

You groan in your bed when the late afternoon sun shines directly at your sensitive eyes; shielding yourself from the light, you turn around lifting the heavy blankets over your head.

Hobie lifts his mask over his head "Hey, I bought you chicken soup" he softly says in case your ears are also sensitive.

" 'm not hungry" your voice muffled by the blankets over your face.

Hobie looks at the discarded bottle of medicine, empty packets of paracetamol, and a moist rag next to your bed. But no dirty plates or glass near you, you haven't eaten anything since he left.

Hobie sits down next to you, before he settles down, he hears a hiss on top of your body.

Crowley opens his bright emerald eyes, the only thing that Hobie sees of the cat; with the dark blankets and dimly lit room, Crowley's fur perfectly camouflages on top of you. The little dark void stands up as if he's challenging Hobie.

"Oi, we're on the same side, I'm gonna take care of her" Hobie scolds the hell spawn.

Your arm reaches out of the mountain of blankets to pet Crowley, calming him down.

Hobie grabs the end of the blanket, pulling it down to see your face. He touches your forehead lightly to feel your temperature. You're hot, dangerously so, even with his glove he still feels the warmth.

"Fuck lovey, you're burning up" Hobie's voice echoes with concern.

"Hmm?" You look at him with your half lidded eyes. "Hey baby, when'd you get here?" You're delirious, you feel like your mouth's full of cotton, hot air comes out of your nose.

"Shit, we need to lower your temperature" he leaves the soup on top of your side table, tissues and bottles fall on the floor to make room for the warm soup.

He leaves briefly to go to your bathroom, filling up your bathtub with cold water. Crowley makes biscuits on your blanket covered chest.

Hobie comes back, seeing the scene in front of him he stops for a moment to take a mental picture of it. He rushes to you flipping your blankets away from you, Hobie sees in his peripheral that Crowley moved away before getting smacked in the face. That's definitely gonna bite him back, literally and figuratively. He'll apologize to him later, right now he needs to get you to your bathtub ASAP.

When the blankets are pulled away from you, a chill runs through you, a second later heat rushes throughout your body. You feel hot and cold at the same time. The fever clouds your mind; you mumble in Hobie's chest as he carries you.

Hobie carefully sits you down on the edge of the tub, he crouches down next to you with a wet rug in his hand. You can hear the loud rush of water behind you.

"Hnng" You cover your sensitive ears, Hobie sees your reaction, he quickly shuts off the tap, concern on his face.

He carefully holds your chin up so you're facing him. "This is gonna be cold, I'm sorry" he dabs the cloth on your forehead, testing your reaction.

You instinctively flinch away from the cold, "oww" Your joints cry out in pain, every muscle in your body protests against the cold rag. But you don't flinch away when he lays the cold rag against your collarbone.

"That's it, lovey, taking it like a champ"

Hobie opens a couple of buttons on your pajama shirt so he could wipe your chest. He hears a mewl from behind him, Crowley sits elegantly on your countertop, eyes judging Hobie.

Hobie looks over his shoulder, "yeah, yeah I'm being careful" He talks to your cat like he understands his meows.

Crowley answers with a louder meow "Yes, I will wipe behind her bloody ears, d' you think you could do any better?" Hobie raises the rag towards Crowley.

Crowley scrunches his nose at the rag, "I didn't think so" Hobie squares off with your cat, Hobie continues to carefully wipe your arms as Crowley stares daggers at his back.

You stare at Hobie curiously, in your state you have no idea if you're just imagining your boyfriend having an argument with your cat.

You hold on to Hobie's strong shoulder, getting his attention. "Are you fighting with Crowley?" You tilt your head questioningly.

Hobie smiles that you're finally aware of your surroundings, "There's my girl," he pecks your sweaty forehead. "He's being a little shit, that's why"

Your eyes widen "you can understand him?! Is that part of your spidey powers?" You shake his shoulder weakly.

"Love," He pinches the bridge of his nose "I don't even know how to answer that" he squeezes out the excess water from the rag to trickle down on your head.

"Ack! Hobie!" You glare daggers at him, mimicking what Crowley might look like behind him.

"Just a little bit of water," he wipes little droplets off your eye lids with his thumb. "How do you feel? Better, yeah?"

You drop your head on his shoulder with a thud, "tired" you sigh, snuggling further into the crook of his neck.

Hobie hugs you, he kisses the side of your head affectionately, rubbing your back he feels your fever sweat through your thin pajama shirt.

You cringe when you feel him tugging up at your drenched shirt, "I'm sorry, I'm such a mess" your voice vibrates against Hobie's skin.

"Don't be, this is nothing compared to what I've seen 'round pubs" he cradles your head, moving stray hairs away from your tacky skin. "I need to change you out of those clothes, yeah?"

"If you wanted to rip my clothes off, you should have said so" you teasingly said with your hoarse voice.

Hobie chuckles at your sense of humor, despite your sickness. "When you're better, I'll do just that"

Lifting your head away from his shoulder, you stare at him lovingly "I better get… better then" fumbling over your words. You give him your sickenly sweet smile.

After a change of clothes, a much needed toothbrush and change of linens; Hobie guides you back to bed, with Crowley following closely behind.

"Good, the soup's still hot"

Recognizing the packaging of the soup, you instantly perk up "Is that from Tom's deli?"

"Yeah, you should have seen old Tom's face when I came in as Spider-Punk" he sits down next to you as you prop yourself up to a sitting position.

"Did he look giddy?" You make grabbing hands towards the tupperware. You feel a little bit better, still feverish though.

"Giddy as a school girl, he even asked for a bloody selfie" Hobie opens the lid, the familiar savory smell wafts through your room, relaxing your muscles.

You giggle at the mental image, "did he get it? The picture with you?"

"Yeah, in exchange he didn't let me pay for it, even though I was shoving him money"

You imagine the entire interaction between the two, both being stubborn as they are, you would pay money to see it.

Hobie takes a spoonful of the soup, blowing on it carefully before he feeds it to you. You don't protest, even though you feel good enough to feed yourself. Hobie's being so sweet and sensitive you let it slide this time.

You haven't seen this side of him before, sure he's always sweet on you, but this? He's been so attentive to your needs and your pain, you can't help but love him even more. You never heard a single complaint or scolding for making him take care of you, just for that you're already thankful for. You feel his love shine through with every caress, and concerned look.

As you swallow the soup, you can't help when a sob breaks through, fat tears slide down your cheeks.

"Shit, was it still hot?" Crowley loudly meows at Hobie, as if to say: what did you do now? Hobie ignores the cat. "Love, are you okay? Where are you hurting?"

You shake your head, "nothing hurts, it's silly, I'm sorry" you wipe your tears with your sleeves as you avoid eye contact.

Hobie puts down the bowl on the nightstand to carefully cup your tear stained cheeks. "Hey, it's not silly, please tell me. Y'know you can tell me anything" his heart hurts with every tear you let out, "if you're not ready to tell me it's okay, just know I'm here, yeah?"

You finally look at him with a brave face, you exhale and finally let it go "I love you" you feel heat behind your eyes, the fever's crawling up again. "So much Hobie Brown, and it's not the fever talking. It's okay if you don't say it back, just wanted you to know"

Saying it loudly for the first time turns your arms and legs into jelly, the three words send shivers down your spine. And yet you stare at him directly, waiting for his reaction.

He feels slightly offended at your last comment, how dare you think he doesn't love you enough to not say it back to you. "You're a bloody idiot"

Your face falls, before you could think of the worst, he kisses you suddenly, it's messy and fast, your teeth clashing with his, you feel his lip ring against your lips. Pulling away first, breathlessness clings to you, if it wasn't for the flu affecting your lungs you would've lasted longer.

Hobie holds your face tenderly "Fuck you for ever thinking that I won't say it back," He swipes at the beads of sweat on your forehead, "Because I've said it a hundred times in my head. I love you" he kisses your tacky cheeks, "I love you," he pecks your nose, you chuckle at his kisses. "I love you," he kisses the corner of your eye "I love you, so fucking much" he confesses.

You let out a sigh of relief, holding the back of his neck as you guide him towards your shoulder, hugging him tightly you feel the roughness of his suit. He sighs into your hug, he feels a heavy weight lifted off his shoulders. You wish you could hold him in your arms forever, protected and loved.

The other two cats trudge in your room nonchalantly. Hobie feels eyes on his back, he cranes his neck to look at Crowley.

Crowley stares at Hobie, he moves his tail from side to side before he curls against himself. While Crumpet and Teacup jump over to your nightstand to smell your soup.

"He's warming up to you" you sniff while caressing his cheek.

"He watched over you, while I was gone. Can't say the same thing to those two though" Hobie moves his head towards the couple sniffing at your food. "Oi bloody leeches, couldn't even bother watching over your sick mum, huh"

Teacup jumps at Hobie's raised voice, while Crumpet's paw wipes at her face. Hobie translates that action to being ashamed from his scolding.

"Yeah, you better be ashamed" Hobie glares at the two cats.

"Stop picking fights with them" you giggle.

He reluctantly pulls away from your warmth, "they deserve a scolding" Hobie grabs the bowl again "now let's get you up and running again, yeah?"

You nod, grinning ear to ear.

—

A few weeks later, with Hobie's help you're finally strong enough to go jogging again. After your run, you head towards Tom's deli to grab your usual. To your surprise, you see Spider-Punk and Tom's picture above the stove, Hobie holding your soup in his hand while his free arm hangs over Tom's shoulders,Tom widely smiles making a peace sign. Tom sees you staring at the picture, he skips over to you, telling the story behind the picture while he shows it off, pride coating his voice. Your smile gets bigger with every wild gesture he makes.

A/n: hope you liked it! And yes Crowley is named after Neil Gaiman's Crowley. As always likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️❤️❤️

*picture above is from pinterest*

[tadanini]

[the-kr8tor]

Hobie nurses you back to health.

Feat: the cats

Pairing: Hobie Brown x f!reader / Spider-Punk x f!reader

Word count: 2.2k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, fluff, description of sickness, established relationship.

My Masterlist

A continuation of this fic but you don't need to read it to understand this one.

*I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms*

Carefully swinging from building to building, Hobie clutches the fragile bag in his hand, careful not to spill a drop of the precious chicken soup from your favourite deli.

Before he left for patrol in the morning, you already felt the sickness crawling in your throat, so much so you didn't kiss Hobie goodbye that morning, in case you got him sick. He didn't want to leave you alone at first, but you insisted that it's probably just hay fever. And you're not alone, you've got your three little gremlins with you to keep you company.

You know that the city needed Spider-Punk more than you needed your boyfriend. That's why Hobie's so adamant in taking care of you now that his patrol is over, and all seems to be quiet around the city. All his attention is now on you, and making you better.

Hobie finally reaches your flat, he perches himself on your fire escape, peeking through your dimly lit bedroom, he sees your folded form buried under a mountain of blankets. Your air purifier puffs out clouds directly at your contorted face. He hates seeing you like this, he should've taken a break in his patrol, if it weren't for this week's villain, he would've had the time to check up on you.

He feels bad leaving you alone in this state.

Hobie opens your window, a gust of much needed fresh air enters your room, an orange glow hits your face directly.

You groan in your bed when the late afternoon sun shines directly at your sensitive eyes; shielding yourself from the light, you turn around lifting the heavy blankets over your head.

Hobie lifts his mask over his head "Hey, I bought you chicken soup" he softly says in case your ears are also sensitive.

" 'm not hungry" your voice muffled by the blankets over your face.

Hobie looks at the discarded bottle of medicine, empty packets of paracetamol, and a moist rag next to your bed. But no dirty plates or glass near you, you haven't eaten anything since he left.

Hobie sits down next to you, before he settles down, he hears a hiss on top of your body.

Crowley opens his bright emerald eyes, the only thing that Hobie sees of the cat; with the dark blankets and dimly lit room, Crowley's fur perfectly camouflages on top of you. The little dark void stands up as if he's challenging Hobie.

"Oi, we're on the same side, I'm gonna take care of her" Hobie scolds the hell spawn.

Your arm reaches out of the mountain of blankets to pet Crowley, calming him down.

Hobie grabs the end of the blanket, pulling it down to see your face. He touches your forehead lightly to feel your temperature. You're hot, dangerously so, even with his glove he still feels the warmth.

"Fuck lovey, you're burning up" Hobie's voice echoes with concern.

"Hmm?" You look at him with your half lidded eyes. "Hey baby, when'd you get here?" You're delirious, you feel like your mouth's full of cotton, hot air comes out of your nose.

"Shit, we need to lower your temperature" he leaves the soup on top of your side table, tissues and bottles fall on the floor to make room for the warm soup.

He leaves briefly to go to your bathroom, filling up your bathtub with cold water. Crowley makes biscuits on your blanket covered chest.

Hobie comes back, seeing the scene in front of him he stops for a moment to take a mental picture of it. He rushes to you flipping your blankets away from you, Hobie sees in his peripheral that Crowley moved away before getting smacked in the face. That's definitely gonna bite him back, literally and figuratively. He'll apologize to him later, right now he needs to get you to your bathtub ASAP.

When the blankets are pulled away from you, a chill runs through you, a second later heat rushes throughout your body. You feel hot and cold at the same time. The fever clouds your mind; you mumble in Hobie's chest as he carries you.

Hobie carefully sits you down on the edge of the tub, he crouches down next to you with a wet rug in his hand. You can hear the loud rush of water behind you.

"Hnng" You cover your sensitive ears, Hobie sees your reaction, he quickly shuts off the tap, concern on his face.

He carefully holds your chin up so you're facing him. "This is gonna be cold, I'm sorry" he dabs the cloth on your forehead, testing your reaction.

You instinctively flinch away from the cold, "oww" Your joints cry out in pain, every muscle in your body protests against the cold rag. But you don't flinch away when he lays the cold rag against your collarbone.

"That's it, lovey, taking it like a champ"

Hobie opens a couple of buttons on your pajama shirt so he could wipe your chest. He hears a mewl from behind him, Crowley sits elegantly on your countertop, eyes judging Hobie.

Hobie looks over his shoulder, "yeah, yeah I'm being careful" He talks to your cat like he understands his meows.

Crowley answers with a louder meow "Yes, I will wipe behind her bloody ears, d' you think you could do any better?" Hobie raises the rag towards Crowley.

Crowley scrunches his nose at the rag, "I didn't think so" Hobie squares off with your cat, Hobie continues to carefully wipe your arms as Crowley stares daggers at his back.

You stare at Hobie curiously, in your state you have no idea if you're just imagining your boyfriend having an argument with your cat.

You hold on to Hobie's strong shoulder, getting his attention. "Are you fighting with Crowley?" You tilt your head questioningly.

Hobie smiles that you're finally aware of your surroundings, "There's my girl," he pecks your sweaty forehead. "He's being a little shit, that's why"

Your eyes widen "you can understand him?! Is that part of your spidey powers?" You shake his shoulder weakly.

"Love," He pinches the bridge of his nose "I don't even know how to answer that" he squeezes out the excess water from the rag to trickle down on your head.

"Ack! Hobie!" You glare daggers at him, mimicking what Crowley might look like behind him.

"Just a little bit of water," he wipes little droplets off your eye lids with his thumb. "How do you feel? Better, yeah?"

You drop your head on his shoulder with a thud, "tired" you sigh, snuggling further into the crook of his neck.

Hobie hugs you, he kisses the side of your head affectionately, rubbing your back he feels your fever sweat through your thin pajama shirt.

You cringe when you feel him tugging up at your drenched shirt, "I'm sorry, I'm such a mess" your voice vibrates against Hobie's skin.

"Don't be, this is nothing compared to what I've seen 'round pubs" he cradles your head, moving stray hairs away from your tacky skin. "I need to change you out of those clothes, yeah?"

"If you wanted to rip my clothes off, you should have said so" you teasingly said with your hoarse voice.

Hobie chuckles at your sense of humor, despite your sickness. "When you're better, I'll do just that"

Lifting your head away from his shoulder, you stare at him lovingly "I better get… better then" fumbling over your words. You give him your sickenly sweet smile.

After a change of clothes, a much needed toothbrush and change of linens; Hobie guides you back to bed, with Crowley following closely behind.

"Good, the soup's still hot"

Recognizing the packaging of the soup, you instantly perk up "Is that from Tom's deli?"

"Yeah, you should have seen old Tom's face when I came in as Spider-Punk" he sits down next to you as you prop yourself up to a sitting position.

"Did he look giddy?" You make grabbing hands towards the tupperware. You feel a little bit better, still feverish though.

"Giddy as a school girl, he even asked for a bloody selfie" Hobie opens the lid, the familiar savory smell wafts through your room, relaxing your muscles.

You giggle at the mental image, "did he get it? The picture with you?"

"Yeah, in exchange he didn't let me pay for it, even though I was shoving him money"

You imagine the entire interaction between the two, both being stubborn as they are, you would pay money to see it.

Hobie takes a spoonful of the soup, blowing on it carefully before he feeds it to you. You don't protest, even though you feel good enough to feed yourself. Hobie's being so sweet and sensitive you let it slide this time.

You haven't seen this side of him before, sure he's always sweet on you, but this? He's been so attentive to your needs and your pain, you can't help but love him even more. You never heard a single complaint or scolding for making him take care of you, just for that you're already thankful for. You feel his love shine through with every caress, and concerned look.

As you swallow the soup, you can't help when a sob breaks through, fat tears slide down your cheeks.

"Shit, was it still hot?" Crowley loudly meows at Hobie, as if to say: what did you do now? Hobie ignores the cat. "Love, are you okay? Where are you hurting?"

You shake your head, "nothing hurts, it's silly, I'm sorry" you wipe your tears with your sleeves as you avoid eye contact.

Hobie puts down the bowl on the nightstand to carefully cup your tear stained cheeks. "Hey, it's not silly, please tell me. Y'know you can tell me anything" his heart hurts with every tear you let out, "if you're not ready to tell me it's okay, just know I'm here, yeah?"

You finally look at him with a brave face, you exhale and finally let it go "I love you" you feel heat behind your eyes, the fever's crawling up again. "So much Hobie Brown, and it's not the fever talking. It's okay if you don't say it back, just wanted you to know"

Saying it loudly for the first time turns your arms and legs into jelly, the three words send shivers down your spine. And yet you stare at him directly, waiting for his reaction.

He feels slightly offended at your last comment, how dare you think he doesn't love you enough to not say it back to you. "You're a bloody idiot"

Your face falls, before you could think of the worst, he kisses you suddenly, it's messy and fast, your teeth clashing with his, you feel his lip ring against your lips. Pulling away first, breathlessness clings to you, if it wasn't for the flu affecting your lungs you would've lasted longer.

Hobie holds your face tenderly "Fuck you for ever thinking that I won't say it back," He swipes at the beads of sweat on your forehead, "Because I've said it a hundred times in my head. I love you" he kisses your tacky cheeks, "I love you," he pecks your nose, you chuckle at his kisses. "I love you," he kisses the corner of your eye "I love you, so fucking much" he confesses.

You let out a sigh of relief, holding the back of his neck as you guide him towards your shoulder, hugging him tightly you feel the roughness of his suit. He sighs into your hug, he feels a heavy weight lifted off his shoulders. You wish you could hold him in your arms forever, protected and loved.

The other two cats trudge in your room nonchalantly. Hobie feels eyes on his back, he cranes his neck to look at Crowley.

Crowley stares at Hobie, he moves his tail from side to side before he curls against himself. While Crumpet and Teacup jump over to your nightstand to smell your soup.

"He's warming up to you" you sniff while caressing his cheek.

"He watched over you, while I was gone. Can't say the same thing to those two though" Hobie moves his head towards the couple sniffing at your food. "Oi bloody leeches, couldn't even bother watching over your sick mum, huh"

Teacup jumps at Hobie's raised voice, while Crumpet's paw wipes at her face. Hobie translates that action to being ashamed from his scolding.

"Yeah, you better be ashamed" Hobie glares at the two cats.

"Stop picking fights with them" you giggle.

He reluctantly pulls away from your warmth, "they deserve a scolding" Hobie grabs the bowl again "now let's get you up and running again, yeah?"

You nod, grinning ear to ear.

—

A few weeks later, with Hobie's help you're finally strong enough to go jogging again. After your run, you head towards Tom's deli to grab your usual. To your surprise, you see Spider-Punk and Tom's picture above the stove, Hobie holding your soup in his hand while his free arm hangs over Tom's shoulders,Tom widely smiles making a peace sign. Tom sees you staring at the picture, he skips over to you, telling the story behind the picture while he shows it off, pride coating his voice. Your smile gets bigger with every wild gesture he makes.

A/n: hope you liked it! And yes Crowley is named after Neil Gaiman's Crowley. As always likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️❤️❤️

*picture above is from pinterest*

[thatonegrimm]

🌙 Saja Boys – When Your Sick

(Yes this was inspired by the sick day shenanigans post)

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

🧿 Jinu 

You sneezed once—once—and Jinu burst into your room like an apocalypse scout. He had a thermometer in one hand, a first-aid kit in the other, and what might’ve been a demon seal scroll tucked under his arm.

You stared at him, mid-sniffle. “…What in the—?”

“Sit up,” he said, already pressing the back of his hand to your forehead like he’d seen in dramas. “You're warm. How long? Symptoms? Have you eaten?”

“It’s just a cold,” you said, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. “I’m fine.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re sweating. You’re not fine.”

You were about to argue, but your sinuses chose that exact moment to betray you with a loud, honking sneeze.

Jinu looked vindicated. “Exactly. I’ll make tea. Do you want ginseng? Peppermint? Or the one that kind of tastes like dirt but boosts your immunity by 2.3x?”

You coughed. “That’s… specific.”

“I researched it.”

He left in a flurry of slippers and determination. When he came back, you half expected a potion.

Instead, it was just tea—your favorite kind, perfectly steeped. No magic, no weird herbs. Just Jinu, sitting beside you, close but careful.

“…Thank you,” you murmured, sipping.

He cleared his throat, then held out your tissues. “I’m watching you. If you get worse, I will summon someone.”

“Like a doctor?”

“Like a mountain spirit.”

You laughed—and then coughed—and then leaned your head on his shoulder anyway.

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

💪 Abby 

You told Abby not to worry. That it was “just a cold.” That you had tissues and tea and Netflix, and didn’t need a full-service nurse.

So he tried to be chill about it. He really did.

You woke up to three pots bubbling on the stove, five grocery bags full of soup ingredients, and a muscled himbo in a pink apron with a ladle in one hand and your recipe book upside-down in the other.

“Morning!” he called cheerfully. “How’s my patient?”

“…Did something explode?”

“Nope!” he said too quickly. “That was steam.”

You padded into the kitchen to find what looked like a broth volcano on the stove. There were bones. There were so many bones.

“You used the whole marrow pack?!”

“I thought more bones meant more strength! Like, spiritually.”

You groaned.

But—after some pan-scrubbing and a few jokes at his expense—he served you a bowl of homemade bone broth. It was chunky, steaming, and way too salty.

You ate all of it.

When he offered seconds, you shook your head. “Any more and I will die. But… thank you. This was sweet.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, bashful. “I just… hate seeing you down.”

You blinked.

He added, softly: “If I can’t punch the sickness out of you, I can at least feed you ‘til you feel human again.”

You smiled. That sounded like Abby logic.

You also made him promise never to touch your spice rack again without supervision.

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

📚 Mystery 

Your fever was the kind that made the world swim—too hot, too dry, too still. You drifted in and out of shallow sleep, your skin clammy and your thoughts slow.

At some point in the night, you opened your eyes and felt… weight.

Not heavy, but warm. Anchoring.

Mystery was there, curled at the foot of your bed, his back pressed lightly to your legs like a sleepy, oversized cat. One arm dangled a book over the side, pages slightly bent. Your cough drops sat on the table, next to a glass of water he must’ve refilled at least twice.

He hadn't noticed you wake.

“...Mystery?” you croaked, your voice sandpaper.

He blinked slowly, eyes catching the soft glow of your bedside lamp. “You’re awake,” he murmured.

You shifted. “You didn’t have to stay.”

His voice was quiet, hoarse from disuse. “You left the light on.”

“…You don’t sleep with the light on.”

“I do when you’re sick.”

You stared at him, and he looked away, like he’d revealed something he shouldn’t have.

Without thinking, you scooted over and patted the space beside you.

He hesitated. Then carefully moved closer, like he was afraid he’d melt you with his body heat. He didn’t speak again, just draped the blanket up to your shoulder and rested his hand beside yours—close enough to touch, but waiting.

You laced your fingers through his without a word.

His breath caught. Just once.

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

💋 Romance 

Even sick, you were suspicious.

Romance offering to voluntarily nurse you back to health was as uncharacteristic as Baby offering to do the taxes.

Still, you let him in. And sure enough, he showed up with soup, a forehead thermometer, and a steaming towel carefully folded like a spa gift.

“…Where did you get this towel?” you asked groggily.

He winked. “Don’t worry about it.”

You accepted the care, if only because you were too exhausted to resist. But even at your most pitiful—sweatpants, red nose, tangled hair—he still leaned in and said, “Still the prettiest person I’ve ever seen.”

You groaned. “You’re a menace.”

He grinned. “A menace who just watched you eat an entire bowl of my cooking.”

“…That was store-bought, wasn’t it?”

“Shhh.” He pressed the cold water bottle to your cheek.

You narrowed your eyes. “Romance. You don’t do caretaking. What’s the angle?”

His voice softened, teasing edge melting like sugar. “No angle.”

You were about to argue again—when he reached out, brushed his thumb over your lip.

“You always put that tint on like this,” he murmured, “just a little in the center. You don’t even know you do it.”

Your mouth parted. Heart stuttered.

“You’ve been watching me?”

He tilted his head, too pretty for your immune system. “I always do.”

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

🔥 Baby 

“I’m contagious,” you warned him. “Don’t come near me.”

Baby squatted just outside blanket range, arms crossed. “You said that yesterday and you still looked like death.”

“That’s because I feel like death.”

“So I should be close. Just in case.”

You gave him a Look. “You’re a demon. You’re not immune to colds, you know.”

“I’ve burned plagues out of forests.”

“That is not the same thing—”

Too late. He lunged, grabbed the edge of your blanket, and in one smooth motion, wrapped you up like a burrito. You flailed helplessly inside your soft, cotton prison.

“Baby!”

He tucked the corners expertly. “There. Human contained. Toasted evenly on all sides.”

You poked your nose out from a fold. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

You glared. He raised an eyebrow. “You let me do this ‘cause you know I worry.”

Your anger deflated.

“…You make a good space heater,” you grumbled.

He reached over and conjured a flicker of flame to float above the nightstand, casting warm light over both of you. Then he leaned against the bed, his hand lightly resting on your burrito-wrapped knee.

“I’ll keep you warm,” he said. “Even if you’re gross.”

You sniffed. “Wow. Romantic.”

He smirked. “I know.”

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

M-List

[thatonegrimm]

Hi! First off, love the writing, awesome job. Second, I love the idea of The boys either being giant worrywarts over the reader having a basic human sickness like a migraine, a cold, etc. and either trying their best to help. I have a feeling that someone would absolutely only make it worse. 😂

Thank you.

Hi!! 🖤 Thank you so much — I’m so glad the writing’s resonating with you! And YES — they’d 100% overreact to even the most basic human illnesses like it’s a life-threatening curse, and at least one of them would try to “help” in a way that backfires hilariously.

🌙Saja Boys x Reader — Sick Day Shenanigans

You have a cold. Or a migraine. Or you’re just kind of gross and sweaty and need sleep. The Saja Boys react as expected: way too intensely.

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

🧿 Jinu

You said you had a migraine.

Jinu immediately pulled out a talisman.

You blinked as he rummaged through a worn cloth pouch. “What are you doing?”

“Checking for hexes.”

“It’s just a migraine—”

“There are demons who specifically attack the nervous system through aura fields.”

“...Or I’m just dehydrated.”

He ignored you, now whispering something in old Hanja under his breath.

You sighed and let him hover a glowing charm over your head. Honestly, it was kind of sweet. Until—POP.

The charm sparked, fizzled, and exploded in a puff of smoke.

The fire alarm screeched.

You groaned and shoved a pillow over your face. “Jinu!”

“I—okay—I used the wrong binding powder—wait, stay under the covers, I’ll fix it—”

Romance yelled from down the hall. “Are you summoning things again?!”

“No!” Jinu shouted back. “It was a healing charm!”

You wheezed, half from laughter, half from the migraine.

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

💪 Abby

You said you felt dizzy.

Abby immediately Googled it.

Now he was pacing with your water bottle, five pillows, a thermometer, and three open symptom checkers on his phone.

“You might have low blood sugar. Or inner ear fluid imbalance. Or—”

“Abby.”

“—a mild vitamin deficiency that could lead to muscle fatigue and nerve disorientation—”

“Abby.”

He stopped.

You raised an eyebrow from under your blanket. “I have a cold.”

He deflated slightly. “Okay. But if you stop breathing, I’m carrying you to the ER.”

You smiled.

“Deal.”

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

📚 Mystery

Mystery didn’t ask what kind of sick you were.

He just handed you a cup of tea, sat down, and pulled a book into his lap.

You sipped.

You gagged.

“What… what is this?”

“Boiled root. Bitter leaf. Honey.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down—what for?”

He shrugged. “Cleansing. Balance.”

“I have a cold, not a spiritual imbalance.”

He blinked once. “Same difference.”

You stared at the horror-mug in your hands.

But he was watching you like he really believed it would work.

So you took another sip.

For him.

Not for the tea.

Never for the tea.

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

💋 Romance

You were bundled in a hoodie, wrapped in two blankets, nose red and puffy. Tissues surrounded you like a sad moat. You hadn't brushed your hair in two days.

Romance walked in, took one look, and smiled.

“Wow.”

You groaned. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying,” he said, settling beside you on the bed, “you manage to look devastating even when you're falling apart.”

You rolled your eyes. “I look like a raccoon that lost a fight with a humidifier.”

“And yet here I am,” he said, resting his chin on his hand, “completely enchanted.”

You sniffled. “Do you ever stop flirting?”

His voice softened. “Not when you’re feeling ugly. That’s when I do it on purpose.”

You looked at him, eyes glassy from the cold, throat sore, heart full.

“…Thank you.”

He leaned in, brushed his fingers lightly across your cheek. “Always.”

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

🔥 Baby

When you told Baby you had a cold, his eyes lit up like you’d given him a side quest.

“Where is it?” he asked. “The cold. I’ll fight it.”

You blinked. “It’s a virus.”

“Where is it.”

“In my body.”

He stared. Then frowned. “That’s cheating.”

You laughed, which immediately turned into a cough. Baby scowled at the air like it had insulted you personally.

Then he got really quiet.

“…If I can’t burn it out,” he muttered, “can I at least hold you so it doesn’t spread?”

You blinked. “That’s not how colds work—”

But he was already under your blanket.

And weirdly? You did feel better.

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

M-List

[the-kr8tor]

Hobie nurses you back to health.

Feat: the cats

Pairing: Hobie Brown x f!reader / Spider-Punk x f!reader

Word count: 2.2k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, fluff, description of sickness, established relationship.

My Masterlist

A continuation of this fic but you don't need to read it to understand this one.

*I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms*

Carefully swinging from building to building, Hobie clutches the fragile bag in his hand, careful not to spill a drop of the precious chicken soup from your favourite deli.

Before he left for patrol in the morning, you already felt the sickness crawling in your throat, so much so you didn't kiss Hobie goodbye that morning, in case you got him sick. He didn't want to leave you alone at first, but you insisted that it's probably just hay fever. And you're not alone, you've got your three little gremlins with you to keep you company.

You know that the city needed Spider-Punk more than you needed your boyfriend. That's why Hobie's so adamant in taking care of you now that his patrol is over, and all seems to be quiet around the city. All his attention is now on you, and making you better.

Hobie finally reaches your flat, he perches himself on your fire escape, peeking through your dimly lit bedroom, he sees your folded form buried under a mountain of blankets. Your air purifier puffs out clouds directly at your contorted face. He hates seeing you like this, he should've taken a break in his patrol, if it weren't for this week's villain, he would've had the time to check up on you.

He feels bad leaving you alone in this state.

Hobie opens your window, a gust of much needed fresh air enters your room, an orange glow hits your face directly.

You groan in your bed when the late afternoon sun shines directly at your sensitive eyes; shielding yourself from the light, you turn around lifting the heavy blankets over your head.

Hobie lifts his mask over his head "Hey, I bought you chicken soup" he softly says in case your ears are also sensitive.

" 'm not hungry" your voice muffled by the blankets over your face.

Hobie looks at the discarded bottle of medicine, empty packets of paracetamol, and a moist rag next to your bed. But no dirty plates or glass near you, you haven't eaten anything since he left.

Hobie sits down next to you, before he settles down, he hears a hiss on top of your body.

Crowley opens his bright emerald eyes, the only thing that Hobie sees of the cat; with the dark blankets and dimly lit room, Crowley's fur perfectly camouflages on top of you. The little dark void stands up as if he's challenging Hobie.

"Oi, we're on the same side, I'm gonna take care of her" Hobie scolds the hell spawn.

Your arm reaches out of the mountain of blankets to pet Crowley, calming him down.

Hobie grabs the end of the blanket, pulling it down to see your face. He touches your forehead lightly to feel your temperature. You're hot, dangerously so, even with his glove he still feels the warmth.

"Fuck lovey, you're burning up" Hobie's voice echoes with concern.

"Hmm?" You look at him with your half lidded eyes. "Hey baby, when'd you get here?" You're delirious, you feel like your mouth's full of cotton, hot air comes out of your nose.

"Shit, we need to lower your temperature" he leaves the soup on top of your side table, tissues and bottles fall on the floor to make room for the warm soup.

He leaves briefly to go to your bathroom, filling up your bathtub with cold water. Crowley makes biscuits on your blanket covered chest.

Hobie comes back, seeing the scene in front of him he stops for a moment to take a mental picture of it. He rushes to you flipping your blankets away from you, Hobie sees in his peripheral that Crowley moved away before getting smacked in the face. That's definitely gonna bite him back, literally and figuratively. He'll apologize to him later, right now he needs to get you to your bathtub ASAP.

When the blankets are pulled away from you, a chill runs through you, a second later heat rushes throughout your body. You feel hot and cold at the same time. The fever clouds your mind; you mumble in Hobie's chest as he carries you.

Hobie carefully sits you down on the edge of the tub, he crouches down next to you with a wet rug in his hand. You can hear the loud rush of water behind you.

"Hnng" You cover your sensitive ears, Hobie sees your reaction, he quickly shuts off the tap, concern on his face.

He carefully holds your chin up so you're facing him. "This is gonna be cold, I'm sorry" he dabs the cloth on your forehead, testing your reaction.

You instinctively flinch away from the cold, "oww" Your joints cry out in pain, every muscle in your body protests against the cold rag. But you don't flinch away when he lays the cold rag against your collarbone.

"That's it, lovey, taking it like a champ"

Hobie opens a couple of buttons on your pajama shirt so he could wipe your chest. He hears a mewl from behind him, Crowley sits elegantly on your countertop, eyes judging Hobie.

Hobie looks over his shoulder, "yeah, yeah I'm being careful" He talks to your cat like he understands his meows.

Crowley answers with a louder meow "Yes, I will wipe behind her bloody ears, d' you think you could do any better?" Hobie raises the rag towards Crowley.

Crowley scrunches his nose at the rag, "I didn't think so" Hobie squares off with your cat, Hobie continues to carefully wipe your arms as Crowley stares daggers at his back.

You stare at Hobie curiously, in your state you have no idea if you're just imagining your boyfriend having an argument with your cat.

You hold on to Hobie's strong shoulder, getting his attention. "Are you fighting with Crowley?" You tilt your head questioningly.

Hobie smiles that you're finally aware of your surroundings, "There's my girl," he pecks your sweaty forehead. "He's being a little shit, that's why"

Your eyes widen "you can understand him?! Is that part of your spidey powers?" You shake his shoulder weakly.

"Love," He pinches the bridge of his nose "I don't even know how to answer that" he squeezes out the excess water from the rag to trickle down on your head.

"Ack! Hobie!" You glare daggers at him, mimicking what Crowley might look like behind him.

"Just a little bit of water," he wipes little droplets off your eye lids with his thumb. "How do you feel? Better, yeah?"

You drop your head on his shoulder with a thud, "tired" you sigh, snuggling further into the crook of his neck.

Hobie hugs you, he kisses the side of your head affectionately, rubbing your back he feels your fever sweat through your thin pajama shirt.

You cringe when you feel him tugging up at your drenched shirt, "I'm sorry, I'm such a mess" your voice vibrates against Hobie's skin.

"Don't be, this is nothing compared to what I've seen 'round pubs" he cradles your head, moving stray hairs away from your tacky skin. "I need to change you out of those clothes, yeah?"

"If you wanted to rip my clothes off, you should have said so" you teasingly said with your hoarse voice.

Hobie chuckles at your sense of humor, despite your sickness. "When you're better, I'll do just that"

Lifting your head away from his shoulder, you stare at him lovingly "I better get… better then" fumbling over your words. You give him your sickenly sweet smile.

After a change of clothes, a much needed toothbrush and change of linens; Hobie guides you back to bed, with Crowley following closely behind.

"Good, the soup's still hot"

Recognizing the packaging of the soup, you instantly perk up "Is that from Tom's deli?"

"Yeah, you should have seen old Tom's face when I came in as Spider-Punk" he sits down next to you as you prop yourself up to a sitting position.

"Did he look giddy?" You make grabbing hands towards the tupperware. You feel a little bit better, still feverish though.

"Giddy as a school girl, he even asked for a bloody selfie" Hobie opens the lid, the familiar savory smell wafts through your room, relaxing your muscles.

You giggle at the mental image, "did he get it? The picture with you?"

"Yeah, in exchange he didn't let me pay for it, even though I was shoving him money"

You imagine the entire interaction between the two, both being stubborn as they are, you would pay money to see it.

Hobie takes a spoonful of the soup, blowing on it carefully before he feeds it to you. You don't protest, even though you feel good enough to feed yourself. Hobie's being so sweet and sensitive you let it slide this time.

You haven't seen this side of him before, sure he's always sweet on you, but this? He's been so attentive to your needs and your pain, you can't help but love him even more. You never heard a single complaint or scolding for making him take care of you, just for that you're already thankful for. You feel his love shine through with every caress, and concerned look.

As you swallow the soup, you can't help when a sob breaks through, fat tears slide down your cheeks.

"Shit, was it still hot?" Crowley loudly meows at Hobie, as if to say: what did you do now? Hobie ignores the cat. "Love, are you okay? Where are you hurting?"

You shake your head, "nothing hurts, it's silly, I'm sorry" you wipe your tears with your sleeves as you avoid eye contact.

Hobie puts down the bowl on the nightstand to carefully cup your tear stained cheeks. "Hey, it's not silly, please tell me. Y'know you can tell me anything" his heart hurts with every tear you let out, "if you're not ready to tell me it's okay, just know I'm here, yeah?"

You finally look at him with a brave face, you exhale and finally let it go "I love you" you feel heat behind your eyes, the fever's crawling up again. "So much Hobie Brown, and it's not the fever talking. It's okay if you don't say it back, just wanted you to know"

Saying it loudly for the first time turns your arms and legs into jelly, the three words send shivers down your spine. And yet you stare at him directly, waiting for his reaction.

He feels slightly offended at your last comment, how dare you think he doesn't love you enough to not say it back to you. "You're a bloody idiot"

Your face falls, before you could think of the worst, he kisses you suddenly, it's messy and fast, your teeth clashing with his, you feel his lip ring against your lips. Pulling away first, breathlessness clings to you, if it wasn't for the flu affecting your lungs you would've lasted longer.

Hobie holds your face tenderly "Fuck you for ever thinking that I won't say it back," He swipes at the beads of sweat on your forehead, "Because I've said it a hundred times in my head. I love you" he kisses your tacky cheeks, "I love you," he pecks your nose, you chuckle at his kisses. "I love you," he kisses the corner of your eye "I love you, so fucking much" he confesses.

You let out a sigh of relief, holding the back of his neck as you guide him towards your shoulder, hugging him tightly you feel the roughness of his suit. He sighs into your hug, he feels a heavy weight lifted off his shoulders. You wish you could hold him in your arms forever, protected and loved.

The other two cats trudge in your room nonchalantly. Hobie feels eyes on his back, he cranes his neck to look at Crowley.

Crowley stares at Hobie, he moves his tail from side to side before he curls against himself. While Crumpet and Teacup jump over to your nightstand to smell your soup.

"He's warming up to you" you sniff while caressing his cheek.

"He watched over you, while I was gone. Can't say the same thing to those two though" Hobie moves his head towards the couple sniffing at your food. "Oi bloody leeches, couldn't even bother watching over your sick mum, huh"

Teacup jumps at Hobie's raised voice, while Crumpet's paw wipes at her face. Hobie translates that action to being ashamed from his scolding.

"Yeah, you better be ashamed" Hobie glares at the two cats.

"Stop picking fights with them" you giggle.

He reluctantly pulls away from your warmth, "they deserve a scolding" Hobie grabs the bowl again "now let's get you up and running again, yeah?"

You nod, grinning ear to ear.

—

A few weeks later, with Hobie's help you're finally strong enough to go jogging again. After your run, you head towards Tom's deli to grab your usual. To your surprise, you see Spider-Punk and Tom's picture above the stove, Hobie holding your soup in his hand while his free arm hangs over Tom's shoulders,Tom widely smiles making a peace sign. Tom sees you staring at the picture, he skips over to you, telling the story behind the picture while he shows it off, pride coating his voice. Your smile gets bigger with every wild gesture he makes.

A/n: hope you liked it! And yes Crowley is named after Neil Gaiman's Crowley. As always likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️❤️❤️

*picture above is from pinterest*

[sajakissed]

Idk if anyone has requested this before but: Sajaboys X sick reader. Maybe the reader caught a cold, or the flu. The Sajaboys try to take care of the reader. (I'm a Ploy ship fan but you can do each of the boys separately if you want.)

Maybe this version of the reader also overworked herself a day or two before she got sick, and the Sajaboys tell her to take a break, giving her comfort, but in their own ways.

you get sick and they take care of you

tags: f!reader, sick!reader, poly!saja boys, established relationship, fluff

🫧 Masterlist

You didn’t think much of it at first. A scratch in your throat, a little heat on your skin. You told yourself it was just exhaustion. After all, you had been running yourself ragged the last few days. But now you were bundled up in bed, head heavy, body aching, nose stuffy, and every inch of you screaming for rest.

Which is exactly what the boys didn’t let you avoid.

Romance was the first to fuss over you. He pressed a cool cloth to your forehead, his brow furrowed. 

“You always push yourself too hard, angel. Let us take care of you this time, okay?” His voice was gentle, but his hand was firm as he adjusted your pillows.

That moment of peace lasted all of two seconds.

“Give me the cloth, hyung,” Baby grumbled, nudging at Romance’s elbow. “You’ll just leave it on until it freezes her.”

Romance turned, affronted. “I know how to hold a towel, Baby.”

“Yeah, but she listens to me more.”

You almost laughed, except your throat burned.

Mystery cut in before Romance could retort. “You’re both loud. She needs quiet.” He draped his own jacket over you even though you were already under a blanket. “Sleep.”

“She doesn’t need ten layers, she’s got a fever,” Abby pointed out, gently tugging the blanket higher over your shoulders anyway. “What she needs is a change of scenery with a more comfortable bed. I’ll carry her to my room.”

And that was when Jinu’s voice sliced through the room, sharp as a whip.

“Enough.”

Instant silence.

“Baby, soup duty. Romance, water and meds. Abby, no carrying her unless she asks. Mystery, temperature checks every thirty minutes.”

They all started protesting at once.

“Why does Baby get soup?!”

“She trusts me with medicine more.”

“She’s definitely gonna ask to be carried.”

“I already checked her temperature.”

“QUIET.” Jinu’s glare silenced the room instantly. He turned to you then, his tone softening as he stroked your hair back. “You just rest. We’ve got you.”

It went like that the entire night.

Baby spoon-fed you soup, muttering, “Don’t laugh, just eat—seriously, don’t make me beg.” Jinu made sure you drank enough water to lessen the pain in your throat. Romance crouched by your side, brushing your hair back while whispering praise for every sip of water. Abby stayed nearby, adjusting your blanket when you kicked it off, sliding a pillow under your knees when you couldn’t get comfortable. Mystery’s hand never left yours, thumb tracing calm circles.

And every time their bickering rose — Baby complaining Romance oversalted the soup, Abby scolding Baby for rushing you, Mystery telling everyone to shut up — it was Jinu who barked orders like a general, snapping them back into line.

Finally, cocooned in blankets, surrounded by their warmth, you buried your face in Jinu’s chest to muffle a cough. Baby reached for tissues. Abby rubbed your back in slow circles. Mystery squeezed your hand. Romance whispered, “Shh, you’re okay.”

You smiled weakly, eyelids heavy. They might bicker like children, but in this crowded bed of warmth, noise, and love, you’d never felt safer.

[subtlenighttribute]

You’re Sick?!

Selkie AU | Reader x Love and Deepspace Boys

Cold Comfort | Overprotective Seals | Fluff & Chaos

Not a request but I am sick rn soooo

---

It started with a sniffle.

You figured they wouldn’t notice.

You were wrong.

---

☀️ Caleb

Caleb noticed immediately.

You sneezed once.

He screeched.

“What was that?!” he demanded, already shifted in your kitchen with his pelt wrapped around his waist like a toga. “You sneezed. That’s the sneeze of someone dying. Isn’t it?? Are you dying??”

“I’m fine,” you croaked.

“You sound like a haunted foghorn!!”

You tried to wave him off. He took that as a sign to sprint outside, trip over a seal-shaped Zayne, and yell:

“MEDICAL EMERGENCY. WE NEED SALT. AND TEA. AND HONEY. AND MAYBE A CLERIC.”

---

🪨 Zayne

Zayne didn’t scream.

He stared.

He knew the moment he looked at you that something was off. You looked tired. Pale. Your hoodie was two sizes too big and your socks didn’t match.

“You’re sick.”

You opened your mouth to lie. He raised a brow.

You coughed.

Zayne sighed, stood up, and walked out the door.

You thought maybe you’d upset him—until he returned fifteen minutes later with:

2 extra blankets

1 hot water bottle

4 kinds of soup

And a thermometer he clearly didn’t know how to use

“You’re resting,” he said. “No arguments.”

You tried. He growled.

You shut up.

---

🫧 Rafayel

Rafayel had never seen sickness before.

He flopped into the house in seal form, saw your red nose and puffy eyes, and immediately fainted.

Just—thud. Roll. Flippers in the air.

You were too dizzy to deal with that, so you just laid on the couch with a tissue box while he fake-fainted for fifteen minutes.

Eventually he slunk over, nudged your cheek, and licked it softly.

“Gross,” you whispered. He squeaked back like he was apologizing.

Then he wriggled under the blankets with you and stayed there—head on your chest, letting out tiny wheezing sounds like he was mourning your soul.

---

🐺 Sylus

Sylus was in the doorway the whole time.

He watched. He listened. He said nothing.

Until you dropped a glass trying to clean up.

Then he moved.

Shifted to human in seconds and caught you before your knees hit the floor.

“Why didn’t you say something?” he growled, helping you to the couch like you were made of glass.

“I didn’t want to bother—”

“You’re never a bother.”

He wrapped you in three blankets, sat beside you, and glared at the fireplace, not knowing how to actually get it working.

You might’ve been sick, but your heart definitely skipped a beat.

---

🌊 Xavier

Xavier didn’t fuss.

He saw the tissues. He saw your hoodie. He heard the way your voice cracked.

Then he disappeared.

You assumed he left. Typical mysterious ocean man.

But twenty minutes later?

He reappeared in full human form—dripping wet, windblown, arms full of every comfort item known to man.

“Did you rob someone?”

He avoided your gaze, “Borrowed.”

You squinted your eyes, “This is a weighted blanket.”

He nodded, “Yes. So you stay.”

You blinked. “Stay?”

He looked at you very quietly. “With me.”

---

Later…

They wouldn’t let you get up for anything.

Not even for tea. Not even to use the bathroom alone.

You had five seals piled around you on the couch, hot soup on the table, and someone (probably Caleb) had placed a little sticky note on your forehead that said:

INFECTED. BUT LOVED.

You were sick, yes.

But somehow?

You’d never felt more cared for.