delicious hiddle morsels

Nurse Bill

Okay, so, Midgardian-Hero is sick with a cold. So I whipped up this morsel-ish fic after I said me and Bill Hazledine would take care of her, and she died over the idea of Nurse Bill and said she’d have to write a fluff piece.
Well, I got there first. Because sickies shouldn’t have to write their own stories.

I suppose this could also cover the morsel prompt of Tom taking care of his lady when she’s sick? Yes. Good. I’ll go with that.
Enjoy. I died of adorableness.

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“Darling, it’ll be okay. You’ll be fine, I promise. I’m going to take care of you.”

You laugh weakly, which immediately dissolves into a minor coughing fit. “I'mb fine, Bill-” you manage to choke out. “I’m ndot - ack - I’m dot dyig. You can’t biss out on your holidays because of be.”

Bill’s darling blue eyes watch you apprehensively for a moment, and then his mouth settles into a determined line. “No.” He stands up from his seat on the arm of the couch and places his hands on his hips - looking oddly like Peter Pan, you think giddily - before declaring, “I’m going to take care of you.”

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Breathe Me

Prompt: “Can I get drinking tea and cuddling with Tom?”

Note: I’m so sorry this took forever! I think I re-wrote this about three times, and then it just popped into my head today and I’m really happy with it. I hope it’s what you were looking for. <3
Also, I listened to [this song] while I wrote it.

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The sky is grey when you wake, blinking slowly, on this calm Saturday morning. You struggle to shake the remnants of a strange dream, something about corridors and battles and companions, and when you finally emerge into reality, a delicious scent is the first thing that reaches you Unsure of where it’s coming from, you wrinkle your nose and stretch, uncurling beneath the warm covers like a butterfly from a cocoon.

The heat source behind you shifts with your movements and you roll over with a grin, burying your face in the nearest part of Tom’s loose, soft shirt. When you stretch again and wriggle up into his embrace, he chuckles lightly and greets you with a smile, eyes twinkling – grey today, to match the sky – beneath a stray curl. Good morning is murmured to you in a voice that crackles and crunches with sleep, and you know he has put off his usual early morning run so he can stay in bed and enjoy your time together.

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Friendly reminder that this blog began with a simple little raptor impression, sent to my friend Rhi and then refined as an anonymous message to dirty-hiddles...

“You like my raptor call, do you?” he whispers. The heat emanating from his slender body warms your skin as he pulls you close. Your eyes flutter shut as he presses his lips to your ear; it is a ghostly touch, nothing more, but his stubble brushes against you, and his breath is hot. He lets out a low, rasping, animalistic purr that sends shivers rippling down your skin. You let out a cry as his long, soft fingers dip beneath the waistline of your jeans, searching for you. Searching for release.