Hi! I'm just so glad that you’re taking prompts again! I'm suggesting Crowley has a bad cold with fever and Zira has him bundled up in blankets and feeding soup and spooning him. But then Crowley gets very horny and they start... uh... forking 👀 If you’re not doing nsfw prompts just the first part is more than enough. I love a good cuddly Zira and Crowley 💕💕💕
I.... I just ended up drawing naughty stuff I'm sorry
You can see the full pic on my NSFW Instagram account @/LordAsmodeus23!
Andrew carried on through the fog, his mind heavy as he was brought into consciousness. He felt hands-- familiar hands, hands that worshiped him, that wrought pleasure over his bare skin-- cradling his head, fingers brushing through his hair. His back was propped slightly over muscled legs, his neck curved against the slope of a knee. He was laying in a lap.
As if sensing his awakening, the God, his lover, spoke;
“Andrew?” Neil coaxed softly, trailing a hand over his cheek, tracing his nose, lining his lips.
Andrew’s gold lashes fluttered, and finally, opened. A passing breeze caressed him, cool and pleasant. It was as if the overworld was welcoming him back. Above him, the horizon greeted him. Blue-- vivid, cold, gorgeous. Then without any warning, the sky disappeared. Andrew belatedly realized he was staring up into Neil’s eyes.
“Love,” Neil whispered, running a thumb over his forehead. Those eyes crinkled in something akin to relief, something Andrew dared to deem affection.
Coming to AO3 on March 15th, Eros and Psyche - a collaborated fanfiction by @neil--im-fine--josten and art from @andreil-minyasten - organized by the lovely @aftgreverse.
• It wasn’t that Andrew didn’t believe that Gods were real-- more like he lost faith in them. Lost trust that they had any sort of power over his life, or if they did, that they didn’t give a shit about people like him. He wasn’t interested in placing his (near-nonexistent) hopes on fickle deities too caught up in their asinine dramas.
But things get complicated after a prophecy reveals that Andrew would fall in love with a monster. •
Please don’t delete your fics 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 It's your decision, I know, and as a reader I have no sway over it. But I always come back to your fics when I can't find anything else to hold my attention and I'm still waiting to read your Heartlines because I'm writing a fic of the same au and don’t wanna get biased and please, please don’t delete your fics. Not the more popular ones. Not the less popular ones. Please.
Ahh, I think I’m good now. 😉 I’ve worked through some things and don’t plan on doing it any time soon. If it gets that bad again for some reason, I’ll give a head’s up before I delete. (and thank you)
And I can understand about not reading fics because of being unbiased/not wanting it to influence your writing. There’s fics I won’t read/have stopped reading because I feel like they’re too similar to what I’m writing/want to write.
this is my gift to @andreil-minyasten for the 2019 AFTG Valentine’s Day Exchange! i chose to go with Jeremy taking care of Jean when he gets sick, and it turned out super soft. i hope you like it, i had lots of fun writing this!! :D
also big thank you to @aftgexchange for hosting this!
read on ao3
“How are you feeling?” Jeremy asked as he peeked his head into the dim room. He stepped in and closed the door behind him, gently so it didn’t creak or slam. He’d been meaning to report that to the RA to get fixed, but right now Jean needed his attention. He was bundled in a nest of blankets on the couch, his head poking out from a tiny hole. Jeremy was glad to see he had least moved from the bedroom to the couch since he’d been gone.
Jean groaned and cracked open his eyes. He barely moved when Jeremy sat down beside him and brushed his sweaty hair from his forehead. He was still burning up with fever, his skin hot under Jeremy’s palm. The Tylenol Jeremy made him take this morning had done next to nothing. He frowned. “Have you eaten anything today?”
Several seconds passed before Jean slowly shook his head no. His pale face glistened with sweat but his cheeks were flushed red. Even though he was wrapped in three blankets at least, tiny little tremors went through Jean’s body as if he still wasn’t warm enough.
Jeremy had made Jean stay in bed when he woke up with the fever this morning, barring him from going to either of his classes or practice. It had been a few months shy of a year since Jean transferred, but Jean still struggled with letting himself relax and heal when he was sick or injured. Jeremy was grateful Jean didn’t put up as much of a fight as when he rolled his ankle three months ago, Jeremy almost had to babysit Jean to make sure he stayed off his bad foot then.
“I’m going to make you some soup,” Jeremy decided. He brushed Jean’s hair back one more time and tucked the dark strands behind his ears. Then he placed a careful kiss on Jean’s forehead before he gingerly lifted himself up from the couch, mindful not to disturb Jean’s blanket cocoon.
“You don’t have to do that, Jeremy,” Jean rasped when Jeremy got up. His voice was muffled behind the blankets and nasally from congestion. It made his accent even more pronounced.
“I want to,” Jeremy said. Jean frowned, like he still couldn’t fathom someone wanting to take care of him. Jeremy tilted his head until he was level with Jean’s horizontal form. “I like taking care of you.”
“I’m ruining Valentine’s Day.”
Jeremy straightened. He rubbed at his neck from the ache that started to form from the awkward position. “You’re not ruining Valentine’s Day, Jean.”
Jean just gave him a baleful stare.
“I’m going to go make your soup, and then I’ll be right back,” Jeremy said.
It was true that Jeremy had been planning this date with Jean for weeks, and it was true that he wanted to take Jean to a nice restaurant tomorrow night, but it wasn’t Jean’s fault that he contracted the flu on the thirteenth of February. Jeremy grimaced to himself. Lucky number thirteen.
It was actually kind of Jeremy’s fault Jean was sick. A week before, it had rained for the first time in months and most classes on campus were cancelled. Jeremy convinced Jean to come out with him, Laila, and Sara to run around in the rain. They stayed out for nearly an hour, romping around in the downpour, soaking their clothes, kicking rain puddles at each other. It was likely that that was what got Jean sick.
Jeremy didn’t regret it, though. Not only because Jean looked beautiful in the rain, but also because Jean had smiled more than Jeremy had ever seen him smile at one time before. After they went inside and switched their wet clothes out for warm pajamas, Jean and Jeremy wrapped themselves in a giant blanket and drank hot coco as they watched the storm lull into a slow drizzle. Later that night, Jean had confessed that he liked how the raindrops felt on his skin, and he liked the freedom of being outside and being allowed to just exist.
It was worth it. And Jeremy didn’t want Jean to feel bad for that.
Jeremy turned off the stove once the soup was properly warmed up and poured the chicken noodle in a bowl. He wished he could make it homemade, like his mom did for him, but whenever he tried it the noodles didn’t turn out, and the broth wasn’t as good. Still, soup was good for the soul and even better for a sick stomach, even if it was just out of a can.
The living room was quiet when Jeremy delivered the soup. At first he thought Jean had fallen asleep again, but when Jeremy placed the bowl of warm chicken noodle on the coffee table in front of Jean, gray eyes peeled open. Jeremy helped Jean into a sitting position before he handed him the spoon.
Jean gave the broth a tentative sip before he blew on it to cool it down. When he took his first bite, he grimaced and set the spoon in the bowl. “I don’t think I’m hungry,” he said.
Whenever Jeremy had the flu, he didn’t feel like eating anything, either. But he always felt better when he did. “I’ll bake pie if you eat at least half,” Jeremy said, deciding gentle bribery was the way to go.
“Apple?”
“Apple.”
It wasn’t long until Jean ate every spoonful of soup. Jeremy was sure that it was mostly because he was genuinely hungry, but the promise of Jean’s favorite pie couldn’t have harmed anything. Jeremy took the bowl from Jean’s hands when he was done and placed it in the sink in the kitchen. The clock on his watch said it was a quarter ‘til two.
“Maybe I should skip afternoon practice today,” Jeremy murmured. “Are you feeling better?”
“I still feel like shit,” Jean said. “But you should go to practice. I’ll be fine on my own.”
“Okay,” Jeremy said and bent down to kiss Jean on his cheek.
“If you keep kissing me, you’ll get sick too,” Jean said, but he still tilted his head to receive the kiss.
“Solidarity.” Jeremy peppered Jean’s face with a few more quick kisses.
Nobody asked where Jean was when Jeremy arrived to the court alone since Jeremy had already explained why Jean was absent at morning practice. He did, however, receive several requests from the Trojans and from Rheman and the other coaches to wish Jean to get better. Jeremy smiled and promised he would.
When Jeremy got back to the dorm after practice, Jean was already fast asleep on the couch. Jeremy felt his forehead and was pleased to find that the fever had seemed to ease somewhat.
“Are you back already?” Jean slurred, stirring from his sleep. “Practice didn’t end early.”
“No,” Jeremy confirmed. “Do you want to stay on the couch or do you want help moving to the bedroom?”
“Bedroom. I’m getting a kink in my neck from the couch.”
Jean squirmed until he was able to untangled himself from the blankets enough for Jeremy to get an arm supported around Jean’s shoulders. Jean was still weak and unsteady on his feet, but he could mostly walk on his own, even if he leaned heavily on Jeremy. Jean, usually cool, radiated heat, but his skin was clammy to the touch.
In the bedroom, Jeremy didn’t bother turning on the lights lest it gave Jean a headache. Instead, he carefully changed Jean’s sweaty clothes for fresh ones and helped get under the sheets of his bed.
“Do you want me to stay or go?” Jeremy asked as he tucked the blankets around Jean. It was still too early to sleep for the night, but Jeremy figured it couldn’t hurt to take a little nap.
“Stay,” Jean mumbled, already losing the battle with consciousness. “You’re very warm.”
Jeremy quickly changed into sweats and a tank top and brushed his teeth before he climbed into bed next to Jean. He was content to trace the lines of Jean’s face, taking a rare moment to look without being observed as well; Jean’s sharp cheekbones and strong jaw, his slightly crooked nose and the faint scar on his forehead and the deeper ones by his mouth and cheeks. Jean’s hand was tucked under his cheek, hiding the little black three tattooed there. In sleep, Jean’s face always smoothed out, making him look the most peaceful Jeremy had ever seen him.
But Jean’s brow wrinkled as he blinked open his eyes. Jeremy gave a sheepish smile when he was caught staring, but Jean didn’t seem to mind.
“Can you hold me?” Jean asked quietly, almost timidly.
It was often that Jean asked to be held, especially while he slept, but in those rare moments where Jeremy pulled him close and held him tight, Jean always relaxed, melting against him. Those moments were becoming more common lately, and Jeremy could only hope for a future with Jean Moreau in his arms all the time.
“Yes,” Jeremy replied and shifted so he could wrap his arms around Jean’s taller body. Jean twisted so his back was flush with Jeremy’s chest and brought Jeremy’s hand around to rest against his fast-beating heart. Jeremy smiled when Jean brushed soft kisses across his knuckles and fell asleep.
The next morning, Jeremy woke up on his back with Jean’s arm thrown over his waist. Jean was still asleep, snoring a whistling tune with each exhale of soft breath. The fever seemed to have gone down during the night, and Jean’s face wasn’t so flushed and sweaty.
It would be another ten minutes until Jean woke. Jeremy didn’t want to disturb him so he stayed where he was. Morning coffee could wait another couple of minutes, Jeremy didn’t mind. When Jean’s eyes cracked open, Jeremy could see the bright traces of fever gone, replaced with the healthier glow of Jean’s gray eyes, somehow warm despite the lack of color. Although Jean still shivered when the blankets shifted over top of them.
“Good morning,” Jeremy said. Jean hummed and blinked slowly.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Jean mumbled.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Jeremy replied, and kissed him lightly on the lips.
“I am sorry I got sick,” Jean said.
“It’s not your fault. We can just stay home and watch movies. We don’t have to go out anywhere.”
“You were planning that date for so long.” Jean frowned. “It was expensive, Jeremy.”
“And I’m sure Laila and Sara will have a lovely time at the restaurant,” Jeremy said, tucking a strand of Jean’s hair behind his ear. It had grown past his ears enough to make Jean gripe about needing a haircut the past couple days, but Jeremy quite liked the length. When Jean didn’t keep it so short, his hair was curly and soft when Jeremy ran his fingers through. “I don’t care about going to a fancy restaurant and eating expensive food. I care about spending time with you. Here, at a candlelit table, or, I don’t know, Canada. What matters is that I’m with you.”
“Canada.” Jean snorted. “I would rather be sick in bed than in Canada.”
Jeremy laughed. “I didn’t know the French had such a grudge against Canadians.”
“Oh no, it is just me,” Jean said. Jeremy could see the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. The sight made warmth bubble over in his chest.
“Hey, I got you something,” Jeremy said. Jean frowned and tilted his head in question reminding Jeremy of an adorable puppy. The warmth in his chest was practically overwhelming. “I was going to wait until later tonight, but…I didn’t want to. Hold on, I’ll go get it.”
Jeremy carefully extracted himself from Jean’s side and slipped out of the bed. The chocolate strawberries Jeremy had ordered arrived yesterday afternoon so he’d been keeping them in the fridge. Luckily, he didn’t have to worry about Jean finding them since he was stuck on the couch all of yesterday.
He pulled the strawberries out of the fridge and set them on the counter. Then he grabbed a plate and arranged the strawberries into a heart in the center. When he brought them back to the bedroom, Jean was already out of bed. Jeremy could hear the sound of the sink cutting on and off in the bathroom as Jean brushed his teeth.
Jean left the bathroom and stopped when he saw Jeremy sitting cross-legged on the bed with the plate of chocolate strawberries on his lap. The corners of his eyes crinkled.
“You are so cheesy,” Jean said and lowered himself onto the bed. He stretched out on his side by Jeremy and supported his head with one hand while the other wrapped loosely around Jeremy’s calf.
“Yeah,” Jeremy agreed easily and picked up a strawberry. He leaned over and raised it in offering. Jean’s eyes never left Jeremy’s while he ate the chocolate-covered strawberry in two excruciatingly slow bites. There was a bit of chocolate on the corner of Jean’s mouth that Jeremy wiped his thumb. Jean’s eyes followed the path of Jeremy’s thumb to his mouth as his tongue darted out to lick the chocolate off.
Jean ate two more chocolate strawberries before he suddenly sat up. “I have something for you, too,” he said. Jean leaned over the side of the bed and grabbed something from underneath. Jeremy tried to get a glimpse at what it was, but Jean kept it hidden.
“This is cheesy, too,” Jean said and turned around. In his arms was a stuffed dog with floppy ears and a red heart stitched to its paws. Jeremy grinned.
“Jean Moreau, did you really get me a stuffed animal for Valentine’s Day?” Jeremy teased. Jean’s cheeks grew red, and it had nothing to do with the lingering sickness.
“If you don’t want it, I can take it back. But I’m keeping the strawberries,” Jean said.
Jeremy took the stuffed dog. It was soft, and very plush. He hugged it close to his chest. “I love it, Jean. Thank you.”
Jeremy eyed the dog, then looked at Jean. “Hey, wait a minute…It kind of looks like you, too.”
“It does not,” Jean grumbled.
“It does! Look,” Jeremy held up the dog and squinted as he pretended to consider the similarities between the stuffed animal and his boyfriend. “The likeness is incredible.”
Jean scowled, a distinct contrast from the dog’s stitched-on smile. Jeremy hummed in thought and reached over to poke at the corner of Jean’s lips. “Maybe this is a little different,” he said.
Jean promptly lost the battle and laughed. “You are ridiculous, Knox. Ridiculous.”
“You still love me,” Jeremy said, laughing. Jean’s eyes softened.
“I do,” he said. Jeremy’s heart melted, and in that moment, he couldn’t help but pull Jean in for a slow kiss. Jeremy wound his hands in Jean’s shirt and pulled him closer. The taste of chocolate lingering on Jean’s tongue drove Jeremy absolutely crazy as he chased it with his own mouth. The kiss was sweeter still than the chocolate, and it was several minutes before Jean pulled away.
“I still might get you sick,” Jean mumbled against Jeremy’s lips.
Jeremy smiled. “Solidarity,” he said and kissed him again.
Hey, lovely people 🌷🌼🌻🌼🌷 I come with a very specific request. Do you know of any The Darkest Part of the Forest AU? It's a Fae fantasy book by Holy Black, if that helps.
Yes we do, and it’s great! - A
The Foxes and the Fae by fairietailed [Rated T, 48072 Words, Complete 2018]
Palmetto was a town that bordered on surreal; they were a town that lived alongside the beings that Abby liked to call Greenies or Wymack liked to call They Themselves or Betsy liked to call the Folk of the Air. The tourists, though, just called them “magic things”.
