A/N: Maybe not exactly what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy.
“Don’t touch me!” you giggled. But Harry didn’t listen as he
continued to reach for you, narrowly avoiding the bicycle kicks you were
sending his way.
“Oh, come off it, m’hands aren’t that cold,” he said with an eye roll as he finally got you to settle beneath him.
His hands rested on your sides, and while your flesh was protected from his
chilly fingers by the thick fabric of your sweater, you could feel the coldness
“They are freezing, Harry.” You looked
around best you could with Harry keeping you still, trying to find some way to
escape. But you were trapped in the middle of the bed like a raft out to sea
with no sight of shore.
“Fine, fine. Won’t touch you.” His shoulders slumped in
dejection, bottom lip protruding pathetically. You looked for signs of
movement; you’d been in this relationship long enough to know Harry never gave
up without a fight. “But yeh know, love, cold hands mean ‘ve got a warm heart.”
Your eyebrows raised, mouth in a hard line. “That is the
The words hardly left your mouth before Harry’s hands
infiltrated your warm sweater. He roamed the expanse of your warm body,
squeezing and tickling all the spots that made you squeal. Maybe it wasn’t his
cold hands, but the sound of your laugh echoing throughout his bedroom
did make Harry swell with warmth.
“Harry…Harry, please,” you pleaded
through heavy breaths, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. “My tummy
hurts…think you’ve given me a cramp.”
The angst, the build up, the cute moments, the complications, the “will they, won’t they, should they”, the love, the hoops they’re willing to jump through to be together, the intimate moments, the phone calls, the fort, the photographs, the video calls, the texts, the smiles, the laughs…..kadena is really THAT ship
old sketch and old idea from awhile back. That the energy (which before I called the Void ahahaa) from the portal when activated can be possibly absorbed by a living being and gain incredible power and knowledge (like Rose with the Tardis soul and Badwolf)
guys GUYS GUYS GUYS APPARENTLY IN THE VERY BEGINNING OF THE IW TRAILER WE GET TO HEAR THE DIALOGUE BETWEEN STEVE AND TONY WHERE THEY SAY ‘together’ ‘we’ll lose’ ‘then we’ll do that together, too’ AND I’M LITERALLY SOBBING OH MY GOD MY DREAMS!!!!! MY DREAMS AND MY NIGHTMARES ARE BOTH COMING TRUE AT ONCE I WANT TO DIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I sat on the edge of the bed in nothing but my matching black lace bra and panties, hands tucked under my thighs like commanded. The cool air in the bedroom was tickling my bare skin, causing a shiver to roll down my spine, goosebumps rising over my arms and legs. I had been sitting here waiting for twenty minutes and the anticipation of what was coming was making it hard to sit still. My arousal already pooling hot in the pit of my belly.
I closed my eyes and bit hard on my bottom lip, taking a long breath as I pictured Bucky’s face clearly in my mind. We’d been at the club, drinking, celebrating. And maybe I’d pushed his buttons by looking at Pietro a little too fondly, and maybe Pietro’s hands had wandered a little too low while we were dancing; whatever it was though Bucky had passed jealous within seconds and arrived furious. He tugged me back against his chest and away from Pietro’s sticky fingers, making sure I felt the press of his erection along the crease of my ass as he whispered heavily in my ear that I was going to pay for it later. Honestly, that had been the exact reaction I’d been hoping for.
I moaned quietly, clenching my thighs together as I imagined what he might be doing later. Bucky never kept punishments the same, he mixed it up so I never knew what to expect, so I never knew what was coming.
“What are you thinking about?”
My eyes popped open as Bucky’s voice broke my train of thought, the breath catching in my throat as I watched him walk towards me, only dressed in his dark jeans from earlier, the hard planes of his chest illuminated in the soft light in the bedroom. Suddenly remembering what he’d asked I shook my head quickly. “Nothing,” I stammered out. Bucky clicked his tongue, shaking one of his metal fingers at me. “Nothing?” He repeated. “Are you sure you weren’t thinking about Pietro’s hands all over you?”
I shook my head again, wetting my lips with my tongue. “N - no, I wasn’t thinking of him.” “Good girl.”
Bucky knelt in front of me, tracing each of his hands up the fronts of my legs until he reached my knees, the corners of his lips picking up into a smirk as he pulled them apart. I inhaled sharply through my nose as he lent forward between my legs, pulling out a wooden box from under the bed.
Bucky rifled through it for a second before looking up at me, nodding towards the top of the bed.
“Go and lie down, hands above your head.” I did so without question, getting myself comfortable on the pillows before lifting my arms up, my eyes staying on Bucky as he lent over me, his breath ghosting over my face as he secured my wrists to the headboard with the silk scarves he had hold of. I tested them as soon as he was finished; they were tight but not enough that it was cutting any circulation off.
Poseidon - POSEIDON Greek: Ποσειδῶν, was one of the twelve Olympian deities of the pantheon in Greek mythology. His main domain was the ocean, and he is called the “God of the Sea”. Additionally, he is referred to as “Earth-Shaker” due to his role in causing earthquakes, and has been called the “tamer of horses”.
A pint of Ben and Jerry’s rests in my lap as I stare at my phone’s screen. A page somehow ‘shipping’ Shawn with the blonde model has multiple profanities in the caption of the instagram video it posted.
I can’t help but admit that I do feel relieved at the content. I am glad that he has publicly stated they aren’t dating. However, I still remain angry at the fact that he hasn’t tried to contact me at all; he also remains completely happy and not at all torn up by our situation.
I sit in my living room, eating an abundant amount of ice cream while I track all of his movements and recent relationships. Meanwhile, he doesn’t even seem to care about how i’m doing enough to contact me.
I scrape at the bottom of the pint and salvage a half-melted spoonful of ice cream, placing the now half empty carton on the table in front of me. My phone buzzes whilst sitting on the couch cushion next to me and I pick it up.
Check this out
She proceeds to send a twitter link. I click on the link, only to be redirected to a page that tracks the snapchats of the one and only, Hailey Baldwin.
“Boys who send flowers win points with the family”
My heart pounds at a faster pace in my chest. My hands squeeze around my iphone, yet, I don’t feel a single hint of sorrow in my body.
I felt angry, incredibly angry at the fact that he hadn’t even sent a short text message. A brief, ‘Hey, i’m sorry I took you to an event as a date and then made out with a model who hopped around with all of my friends. Sorry I couldn’t keep my hands to myself, when I asked you to cut off all of the guys you were talking to. Hope we can make this up.’
He hadn’t even cared enough to type me a message, and meanwhile he was getting shitty matching tattoos and buying expensive flowers for her.
I had always wondered whether or not I had made the right decision by giving him a chance to begin with. The fact that he was doing these things for her, blatantly knowing that she would post them on her social media platforms was making me grow more infuriated by the minute.
I decide to head to the gym. I had gotten a membership with Shawn a few weeks ago after he complained about how the gym I was previously going to was too far away from my apartment. ‘It’s too dangerous’ were his words.
Looking back, the small adjustments he had made in my life seemed to have a much bigger impact on me now. I couldn’t go to the gym without thinking of how he cared enough to get me a different membership, couldn’t go to the store without looking at the spicy doritos he’d always loved, and I couldn’t stare at clothing brands without wondering whether or not his new girl had modeled for them.
At the same time, feelings of anger seemed to resurface with the memories; he had pretended like he cared about my well being. He had gotten upset when I acquired male interests even though we were never more than a series of friendly hookups and sparked moments. I had cut off all of my male interests because he had asked me to, yet, he hd defended his girl when I confronted him.
He had chosen to lie, and I knew that liars weren’t the type of people to pursue relationships with.
My hands rested on her slim, soft waist, her bare chest in my face and her slim eyes staring down at me from slightly above. She was pretty, yes, but she felt wrong.
Her movements weren’t as reactive as y/n’s. I would grab at her fingers, intertwining my hands with hers and she would instead brush past my palms and grip harshly at my hair. Goosebumps didn’t rise on her skin like y/n’s did and she didn’t make my heart race nearly as fast.
“Yeah?” The lipstick remains smudged lightly on her thin lips and she breathlessly responds.
“I-I can’t do this”
Her face morphs into confusion and disappointment. I was lying completely naked underneath her and had suddenly halted her actions. We had done this before, but I had always been too intoxicated to fully enjoy it. Having her sober made me realize how bland it all seemed.
Y/n had been different, we had connected on more than just a physical level about things that we both enjoyed. She had never liked receiving flowers or flaunting me around to her friends and followers like Hailey did. Her family hadn’t been raised around money so she was fine with going to a rural Mcdonald’s as opposed to a fancy restaurant surrounded by paparazzi.
They were almost complete opposites. Hailey had always hinted at me getting her gifts and forced interests in the same topics. She studied John Mayer albums almost because she was trying to impress me, rather than because she enjoyed them herself. She had posted all of the gifts I had gotten her with sly captions, and all of our dates or meetings seemed to be in headlines the next morning.
Truthfully, I regretted not chasing after y/n that night. We had been friends before we were ever more and the loss of both was frustrating me continuously.
“What do you mean you can’t do this?” Hailey responded annoyed. She remained straddling me from above as I tried to unforcefully lift her off of me.
“I just remembered I have somewhere to be.”
She gets off me and remains sitting on the couch, only putting on her bra and underwear. I put on all of my clothes and grab the gym bag by the door of her apartment. I rush to collect all of my belongings.
“Bye.” With those three words, I quickly walk out of the door. My gym bag is slung along my arm and because I didn’t feel like driving through the LA traffic all the way to my hotel, I choose to go to the gym instead.
I think of the gym and am immediately reminded of the time I had gotten y/na new membership. I wonder if she has gotten a membership at her old gym; I wonder if she’s walking home by herself again. I wonder if i’ve screwed things up to the point where she doesn’t even want to see me anymore.
I get into my rented car, my jeep being at home, and toss my bag into the passenger seat. My hair is still slightly damp from my sweat and what almost happened just minutes ago.
“Shit” I quickly mutter to myself while putting my hair up in a ponytail. My fingernails were aching because of how far i’d chewed them done over the past few days, making it difficult to tie my hair.
I eventually put my hair through the holder three times before adjusting my leggings by pulling them up. I grab my phone, and connect the chords of my headphones into the headphone jack before walking out of the women’s locker room and heading towards the treadmill. It had been too cold to get in a good run outside so I was happy to finally get my workout in.
I try to keep my mind off of how swollen my red eyes seem to be, and how disheveled I look. I start the treadmill and turn the speed up. The music blasts through the speakers of my earplugs at full volume and I completely drown my surroundings out.
Just as i’m approaching my second mile, I see a large hand press the ‘stop’ button on the treadmill. I abruptly stop and avert my gaze to the calloused fingertips, praying that it’s not who I think it is.
I breath heavily and train my gaze to the red button. I place my hands on either sides of the support bars on the treadmill and close my eyes, trying not to cry.
He wraps one of his large hands around my chin and slowly turns my head towards him. My eyes remain closed and I can almost tell that he’s frowning.
I could tell his reactions so well, I had carefully observed every single detail about him. How he fidgeted with his fingers when he was nervous or how he reacted to different levels of disappointment. Had he cared enough to do the same for me as well? Probably not.
“Why are you here?” I softly grumble before opening my eyes. He looks completely fine. His hair is gelled up and his skin looks healthy. I had spent the past few days stressfully skipping meals and crying over him.
“I didn’t think you’d still be here.” He mumbled before taking his hand off my chin and placing it back to his side. I nod before turning back to the treadmill, trying to resume my workout. I just wanted to exercise and leave.
“We should talk, you know.” He states while standing next to me on the ground. I start the treadmill again. I put my headphones back in, only for him to tear them out seconds later.
“Talk to me” It now sounds more like a plea rather than a suggestion and I feel almost offended. I had tried to talk to you at the party, asshole.
“Y/n” He presses the stop button on the treadmill again. “Let’s talk.”
I don’t want to react to him. I knew that if I responded, if I fully went off on him, if I told him that he’d virtually destroyed any chance of us getting back together, I think I would’ve broken down in the middle of the gym. The last thing I wanted right now was to be the center of attention.
He grabs my wrist in his large hand before gently rubbing his thumb back and forth against the back of my hand. He knew how much I liked it and tears well up in my eyes at the wonder if he’s done the same with her.
“Fuck off, Shawn” I cry out before bringing my face into my palms and forcefully shrugging off his hand. I wipe at my leaky eyes before sniffling and telling myself repeatedly not to cry.
He stands from the sidelines and stares as I completely break down over him. His eyes hold sorrow and I can tell he’s on the brink of tears as well - I don’t tell myself he’s just as torn up over me as I am over him in fear of getting my hopes up.
“I’m sorry” He grabs the sides of my head with both of his hands and leans his forehead against mine before whispering the two words. Tears still leak out of my eyes and I don’t want to look at him.
I push him away. He stares at me shocked and I can’t help but feel at least a little bad. I remember what he did to me and it makes me infuriated.
“I saw you getting her flowers. Where is she, Shawn? Is she waiting on you like I was?” My voice sounds hoarse and I want to leave.
“She’s at her apartment. I’m not going to lie to you, I was with her before this. But I couldn’t do the things I did with you with her, it feels wrong to me. I guess I like the physical aspect of her.” He states before pausing to look into my eyes. “But she’s nothing compared to you.”
“I don’t want anything to do with you Shawn. Go back to her, I don’t want you anymore.” I angrily respond at his remark. He thought that a shit apology and I bad explanation could get me back to being the side girl in their very public relationship.
He looks torn apart at my last few words and I applaud myself silently. The past few days had been emotional hell for me and he was finally experiencing it first handedly.
“You made it clear that you didn’t want us by not making it official in the first place. It was my fault, I should’ve known you were just some hormonal teenage boy who thought with his dick rather than his brain. It was my fault for getting caught up in whatever we had because you obviously didn’t care enough to stay.” He looks broken and I finally see his eyes turn red from the tears he keeps forcing back. He swallows thickly.
“Was I not famous enough for you?” I bit my bottom lip with my top row of teeth. “Because I remember this one time you told me that we didn’t have labels so that you could protect me.” Tears are running down my face and I can tell we have a lot to discuss. I feel strange crying in the center of a public gym but when I see him in front of me I think of my anger as completely rational.
“But then I see you buying her expensive flowers and taking her to restaurants I can’t pronounce and parties hosted by people I can only see on news articles.” I ramble on. He looks shocked at what I have to say and I can tell he finally knows what i’m feeling.
“Come back to my hotel - please. No funny business or anything like that, I just want to have some tea and talk about what happened. I need you to know what you mean to me. I need you in my life, y/n.”
I stop biting at my lip, “Fine”, “One cup of tea and after it’s gone, I leave.”
Summary: Jungkook won’t admit he’s sick, and when his condition worsens, you have to look after him.
Genre: fluff, sickfic
“I just wished he would care less about his image, and more about himself.”
I first noticed something was wrong when Jungkook was up before me. Known for being the last awake in every situation, no matter the urgency, he usually clung to the warmth of his bed and the tendrils of sleep for as long as he physically could. He could sleep through almost anything, and on previous mornings I had been forced to resort to drastic measures like pouring water over him just to get him to respond.
So, when I blearily awoke to my alarm and didn’t feel his warmth beside me in the bed, even in my tired state I was immediately alert. I sat up, rubbing my eyes and looking around. I noticed there was light leaking out from below the bathroom door, filtering into the still dark room, any early morning light obstructed by the curtains.
“Jungkook?” I called sleepily, hearing movement from inside. I frowned when I heard coughing, yawning and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, approaching the bathroom when the door opened.
“Yeah, I’m here.” He spoke croakily and I sighed in relief, giving him a once over to see if anything was obviously physically wrong with him. I tended to perhaps worry excessively over Jungkook, given how I had quickly come to understand that he wouldn’t ask for help until he was in the worst possible condition. Previous occasions of fainting and injuries made worse by being left untreated had placed me on high alert for anything out of the ordinary. I just wished he would care less about his image, and more about himself.
In the pale light of the bathroom I could see that he looked tired and that his face was slightly red, but there was nothing obviously wrong with him, so I proceeded to give him a smile and wrap my arms around his neck.
“Morning.” I grinned, pecking his lips before moving away to open the curtains. “Why are you up so early?” I pulled back the fabric, immediately filling the room with bright light that made me squint as I turned back to him to see his reaction. He winced at the light and shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Just getting a drink.” He answered, gesturing to the glass on the sink behind him. “Woke up thirsty.”
I narrowed my eyes at his raspy voice, taking in his tired eyes and red nose again: he was ill. But I said nothing and only nodded, not wanting to have to deal with defensive I-refuse-to-believe-I-am-sick Jungkook at this time of morning.
As we got ready together his symptoms continued. He would swallow his coughs, choking into his fist when he held back one too many, and he was groggy, barely reacting to anything I said. My concern grew as I watched him wince and press his hands over his eyes, leaning over the table.
“You feeling alright?” I asked nonchalantly, hiding the worry in my voice. If he knew I was concerned he would be even less inclined to admit something was wrong. He immediately perked up his head.
“What? Yeah I’m fine.” He brushed off, and I sighed, exasperated at his terrible lying. Knowing he would continue to deny it, I told myself that he’d be fine for the day. Once he got home he would be too tired to refuse my care and I would ensure he got better. All I had to do was let him get through this day.
But as I said goodbye to him at the door, pulling down his mask to kiss him goodbye, I felt the heat leaving his skin and flinched away. I made a noise of surprise, my eyes widening.
“Jungkook!” I exclaimed quietly, gently putting the backs of my hands on his cheeks and then on his forehead, gasping at the temperature. “You’re so warm…” I felt worry squirm up from my stomach to my chest. But he only chuckled weakly, taking my hands in his own and rubbing them.
“I’m not. You’re just cold.” He smiled, trying to ease my concern, but I took my hands back to push the hair off his forehead and feeling the sweat accumulating there. I shook my head, frowning.
“No, baby, you’re really sick.” I stroked his cheek, noting how his eyes were glassy and he seemed to lean into my touch, closing them as if he wanted nothing more than to sleep. He pressed his hot cheek into my palm as I continued to stroke his hair. “You can’t go to practice today.” I said and he whined into my hand, shaking his head.
“ ‘have to go to practice.” He murmured, and I shook my head again, forcing his head up so I could meet his eyes.
“No, you’re staying at home today, let’s get you back upstairs-” But as I began to lead him towards the stairs he suddenly seemed to shake himself awake. He pulled himself out of my grasp, rubbing his eyes.
“No, I can’t Y/N, I’m going to practice.” He said firmly, trying to open his eyes wider. I frowned, trying to grab him again.
“Kook, don’t be dumb.” I chastised, angry at his refusal to accept help. “Why can’t you just accept that you’re sick? Everyone gets sick!” I exclaimed, growing frustrated. He shook his head and chuckled weakly, infuriating me even more.
“I’m not sick.” He denied, and I felt like hitting him. How stupid did he think I was? I glared at him as he pulled up his mask again. He opened the door and I didn’t miss his wince at the icy air suddenly rushing in and hitting his hot skin.
“I’ll see you later.” He rasped, and I only crossed my arms and continued to frown at him, hoping I could guilt trip him into staying. He waited for a reaction from me, sighing as he saw I wasn’t going to give him one. He walked out and I felt anxiety and frustration bubble up in me again.
“You’ll only make it worse!” I yelled desperately from inside, still glaring as he only raised a hand in response, walking off down the road. I sighed in defeat and shut the door, scuffing my feet on the floor.
I went about my day with concern constantly flooding my thoughts, reminding me of how hot his skin had been, how gruelling his dance practices could be, and how he didn’t even take any medicine. Sitting at the table at home around lunchtime, I couldn’t stop tapping my foot in worry, and sent him the fifth text that day asking how he was, and demanding he come home if it got too much for him. He hadn’t replied to any of them, of course, and I grew more and more anxious as the day progressed, trying to wrap myself up in my work so I wouldn’t worry as much.
About half an hour later, I was snapped out of my concentration by the sound of the door being unlocked. My head whipped up, and I immediately stood and moved towards it as it opened. He seemed to be wrapped in even more layers than I had sent him in as he stumbled through the door slowly. Just by his movements I could tell he felt really bad, and my heart lurched in my chest.
“Jungkook!” I exclaimed, rushing to his side as he shut the door, placing my hands on his shoulders to look at his face whilst he leant against the wall for support. “Are you okay?” He looked at me blearily through hooded eyes. Before he could answer he suddenly bent over as a harsh cough wracked his body. I bit my lip at how painful and deep in his chest it sounded, and rubbed his back until he finished. He took in a rattling breath and stood upright again.
“Namjoon sent me home…” He mumbled as I helped him move to the couch, where he slumped gratefully, his eyes closing. “’Kept getting the dances wrong.” I saw his eyebrows furrow as he said this, heard the pain in his voice and sighed, knowing nothing affected him more than the thought of disappointing his fellow members.
“Well that wasn’t your fault, okay?” I said gently, unbuttoning a coat I didn’t recognise to see his own one underneath. “Whose coat is this?” His eyes remained closed as he sat forward so I could pull it off his body, coughing slightly at the movement.
“Taehyung’s.” He murmured, and then gestured to his neck which was wrapped in a dark blue scarf I hadn’t noticed. “’scarf is Jimin-hyung’s.” I nodded, the corner of my lips turning up at the thought that I wasn’t the only one concerned about him. He was mumbling something very quietly, but I only caught the words ‘hyungs’ and ‘cold’ as I gently undid the scarf and slipped it off him.
“Are you cold, baby?” I asked, noticing his chattering teeth. But he opened his eyes to frown and shake his head.
“No. Hot.” He whispered, his own hands coming up to fumble with his coat buttons to get it off him.
“Okay, okay, hang on.” I stopped him, worry once again taking over me at how weak and disoriented he was.
I removed his coat and shoes and covered him in a blanket, despite his complaints of being too hot. I let him sit on the couch and sip at the water I gave him, but he could barely get it down without choking. As far as I could tell, he was running a fever, and a bad one, based on the sweat practically pouring off him, and how hot his skin seemed. I sat next to where he was slumped, with the thermometer in my hand, and he immediately leant into my side, his eyes shut tight and his breathing heavy.
“I’m going to take your temperature, okay?” I asked gently, stroking back his hair from his sweaty forehead. “Can you open your mouth?” He opened his mouth obligingly. That in itself was a sign of how ill he felt; it would usually take a lot more than that for him to agree so easily. I carefully placed the thermometer under his tongue and he shut his mouth, leaning against me as I continued to card my fingers through his hair.
I took a sharp breath at the numbers that lit up the screen, glancing down at him uneasily. A degree or two higher and I would have to take him to hospital. Fear spiked in my chest and I clutched him a little tighter to me. Hoping it wouldn’t come to that, I decided the best thing for him would be to sleep. I placed a hand on his cheek, rubbing it lightly to get him to open his eyes.
“Hey,” I whispered, “you want to go to bed?” He nodded and I pulled him to standing, steadying him as he swayed dangerously, his hands clutching his head. Halfway up the stairs we had to stop as a sharp intake of breath triggered another coughing fit, his hand clutching his throat as he painfully choked and gasped for air. My stomach squirmed with anxiety as I rubbed his back pitifully, hating that I couldn’t do anything to help him.
Once I got him into bed, he immediately shut his eyes. I brought him some pills for the pain in his head and chest, which he struggled to swallow, almost coughing up his lungs again. I laid a damp towel on his forehead, frowning as he flinched at the chill against his burning skin. After that I figured there wasn’t much else to do but stay with him and continually take his temperature, so I settled down next to him on the bed, just watching his chest rise and fall shakily as he wheezed, his breath rattling.
Watching him, my throat closed up. How couldn’t he see that I loved him enough to accept whatever was wrong with him, and help him? He should be able to be vulnerable in front of me. The thought crossed my mind that maybe I had done something wrong.
As the day turned to evening, thankfully, his breathing evened out and he stopped shivering. Checking his temperature again after a few hours, I closed my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief to see it had dropped significantly. I let myself relax, pressing a kiss to his warm forehead, which caused him to stir. I crouched beside the bed, watching his face as he began to move a bit more, which was far more reassuring than the corpse-like pose he had held for several hours.
“Jungkook?” I asked quietly after a moment, and he furrowed his brows with his eyes still shut. “Can you hear me?” I queried a bit louder, and as if his eyelids weighed a tonne, he slowly opened his eyes, turning his neck slightly towards me and nodding. I let a smile spread across my face as I saw him awake, his eyes looking clearer.
“Hey there.” I smiled, and he winced, raising a hand to his head.
“Ow.” He rasped, and I chuckled slightly.
“Yeah.” I raised my eyebrows at him and sighed as he coughed slightly, rubbing his neck and swallowing harshly. I moved around to the other side of the bed and lay down facing him. I watched as he tried to move into an easier position, obviously uncomfortable. He eventually settled down on his side, coughing a few times, wincing as he brought his hand up to his throat again.
“Will you listen to me next time I tell you to stay at home?” I asked, and he looked at me sceptically. I let out a breath of frustration, trying not to get annoyed again. I had to get this through to him somehow.
“Look, I love you, and you’re important to me, and lots of people.” I told him, meeting his eyes. “And I know in your job it might sometimes feel like you always have to be perfect.” He frowned a bit, and I knew I was right. I gave him a small frown, reaching out to touch his cheek lightly. “But that’s not true.”
I shuffled closer to him, and he opened his body to accommodate me. I slotted myself next to him, pressing a kiss to his neck as he remained still, but bowed his head to meet mine. I spoke softly into his skin.
“You’re only human, Jungkook. You are allowed to show weakness, especially in front of me.” He took a breath in, and I pulled back to meet his eyes. “We’d all much rather you were truthful than suffered. Your health always comes first.” I stroked his jaw lightly. “Do you get it?” I met his eyes again as he nodded slightly.
“I’m sorry.” His hoarse voice tugged on my heartstrings and I shook my head quickly.
“It’s okay. Just…” I found his hand under the cover. “Remember that we all love you, yeah?” He nodded, his eyes drooping shut again. I brought his hand to my mouth and pressed a kiss to the back of it.
“I love you too.” He whispered with his eyes closed, his fingers closing around mine, and I smiled softly. He was vulnerable like this, and seemed younger as he held my fingers like a child and his features softened out. Relief washed through me at seeing him there in front of me, safe and okay.
He was asleep within a few seconds, his chest still wheezing slightly, but no longer as worryingly, and his face peaceful. My frustration at him I had held earlier had washed away; I knew it wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t help it. But if one thing was for sure, there was no way I was letting him go anywhere the next day – he could fight me on that all he liked.
I wondered if what I had said had really gone in, sighing again as I realised it probably hadn’t. But I didn’t mind. You’re only human. You don’t have to be perfect. I love you. I would repeat it as many times as necessary until he finally began to believe me.
I feel the blankets fall from my body, bringing goosebumps over my exposed skin. I rub my eyes before reaching down and lifting the heavy blankets back onto the bed. I fling half the blanket on the top of Shawn’s half-naked body, turning to face him as I rest my head on my pillow. I stare up at his face, lit up by the moonlight shining through the open curtain. I lift a hand up to his face, slightly brushing my fingers along his sharp jawline. He shuffles around before turning on his side to face me, still in a heavy sleep. I continue to let my hands subtly explore his face, gazing at him in adoration. I cup his face in both of my hands and run my thumbs over his eyebrows before gliding them across the rest of his skin until I reach his jawline again. He scrunches up his face before slowly blinking his eyes open slightly. He lifts his head up to look at the clock that’s behind me before dropping his head back on his pillow. “Y/N… it’s the middle of the night, what are you doing?” He says huskily.