Requested Imagine: Could I get some Poe Dameron fluff? Anonymous A/N you can always have some Poe fluff. Basically, Poe doesn’t know how to swim so you teach him. Hope you enjoy. x
“This is beautiful, Poe.” You look around at the mountains in awe. Poe has taken you somewhere you don’t even know the name of, but you’re there and it’s perfect.
“Not as beautiful as you,” he says with a little smirk making you laugh. He loves his pickup lines.
“We should get in the water though. It must be so warm,” you say feeling the sun heat up your skin. You strip down to your underwear and run to the water giggling. Poe stays behind looking at you splash around.
“Get in!” you laugh feeling your hair stick to your face but Poe just gulps down a lump in his throat.
“What’s wrong?” you ask feeling your smile fade. Quickly, you get up from the water and stand in front of him. You peck his cheek but he still doesn’t talk.
“I can’t swim,” he whispers and you notice a blush creeping onto his cheeks. You refrain from laughing when you realise that he means it. The confident Poe Dameron has never learned to swim.
“Do you want me to teach you?” you ask gently pulling at his hand. He hesitates but slowly starts removing his clothes. Once he’s only left in his boxers he follows you into the water.
“This is stupid,” he says and suddenly he’s the shy Poe who doesn’t come out very often. Your heart almost melts at the sight of him all red in the face.
“It’s not stupid. It’s actually kind of cute,” you admit kissing him lightly. Poe pulls you towards him and kisses you again.
“This is not swimming,” you giggle pulling away before things get too heated. For the next hour or two you try to teach Poe to swim and he does improve gradually.
“That’s great, babe. Keep going,” you say watching as he swims away from you. He turns around and swims towards you again with a massive grin plastered on his face.
“Thank you for teaching me,” he whispers kissing you gently. You feel your cheeks get hotter as the kiss deepens.
Ahhh thank you again//// im kinda flattered you would ask me for tips;;;;; Well colouring is really VERSATILE and so many possibilities!!! So there’s no right or wrong way to colour//// Here is just some stuff on how I colour, hope it helps!!!
I’ve decided something. I truly believe that SuperCat could be one of the greatest, most successful slow burn love stories of all time, and I’m just going to watch the show like that is what’s happening from now on regardless of what transpires. In my mind, Cat and Kara are endgame, and I hope the show sees that, but no matter what the fic will always bring them together.
Sooo my friend @outtacommission had this great idea about Yuuri with pneumonia… I had too much fun with this, lol. I think everyone knows I’m the hurt/comfort queen. My first Yuri on Ice fic, hope it isn’t too bad!!
“Yes, Victor, I’m sure.” Yuuri said, for the final time. “It’s just a cold.” He sneezed, muffling it in the sleeve of his sweater.
“Alright,” Victor sighed, almost as if it was painful for him to say. “Only if you’re absolutely sure. Make sure you’re properly hydrated, and try to avoid being on the rink—you’ll just exacerbate your cough.” Victor insisted over the phone, voice muffled as Yuuri shifted his position on the couch, drawing the blanket closer as Makkachin settled at his feet.
“I’ll take a day off, don’t worry. Makkachin and I are just going to rest for a little bit. Be safe.” Yuuri responded, smiling to himself despite the fact that Victor couldn’t see it.
“Ah, of course. Rest easy, love.” He blew a kiss into the phone, and Yuuri rolled his eyes. Just as he was hanging up the phone, he was shaken with yet another coughing fit, hacking until he dislodged the gunk in his lungs, spitting it into a tissue with a grimace.
Maybe a little worse than a cold, if the rattling of his chest was any indication, but surely some fluids and rest would do him good.
“Are you sure you don’t need to see a doctor?” Victor asked, voice nervous.
“I’m sure.” Yuuri replied, for the thousandth time. His voice was raspy, his fever low grade. He’d sent Victor a photo of the thermometer displaying his fever a couple of hours ago, and he’d received the call about 7 am Victors time.
Victor had been out of town for about a week, now, Yuuri staying back at his apartment in Russia. He was in the states doing training camps for Yuuri’s old rink, but when he’d offered to take him, Yuui insisted that he stay back to keep on top of his own training.
It hadn’t done him much good. He’d trained for a day or two before his cold had begun acting up, and he’d been going downhill since. The absence of his fiancé was definitely taking it’s toll. Yuuri was sick and lonely.
Coughing wetly into his sleeve, Yuuri heard Victor sigh.
“Yuuri. You don’t sound well. I’m going to call a doctor.” Victor said. “Maybe I need to come home.” He said, the anxiety clear in his tone.
“No, Victor, no—” Yuuri said quickly, pausing to cough into his sleeve. “I’ll be okay. If my fever gets worse, we can call someone.” He assured.
Victor wasn’t so convinced—Yuuri’s voice was nearly gone, his breaths rattling in his chest, his fever low but enough to be a concern. He’d been getting steadily worse.
“I’m going to go take a shower and get some medicine, okay? It’s bedtime over here, anyways. I’ll call you later.
I love you.” Yuuri said, finalizing the conversation.
“Alright.” Victor finally conceded. “Text me once you’ve finished your shower and gotten back to bed. Eat something.” Victor said. “I love you too.”
When Yuuri didn’t text him and didn’t answer his call, Victor assumed he’d fallen asleep.
Yuuri’s fever had gotten progressively worse, leaving him dizzy after his shower, and all he could manage was to pull on some clothes and drag himself to bed. It was too big, too empty, and all of the sudden, he felt himself getting teary eyed.
He wanted Victor to come home. He didn’t want to be alone.
Misty eyed and overwhelmed, Yuuri began to cough again, so hard that it rattled his entire being. His throat stung, his chest ached, his breaths uneven and shaky.
Sleep claimed his with ease, quickly, drawing his fever addled mind into unconsciousness.
“Yurio, he hasn’t answered his phone since last night.” Victor said, chewing on his lip as he paced back and forth in his hotel room. “It’s 10 o'clock there, he never sleeps this late. Please—”
“If you’re so worried, check on him yourself.” Yuuri said, arms crossed over his chest from his position on the couch.
“Yurio, please. I’m serious, he’s ill and I should have sent him to the doctor sooner. He may just be asleep, but—” Victor paused. “I’ll choreograph another routine for you, I’ll do anything. Just go check on Yuuri. Please.”
The desperation in his voice was too much for Yurio to take. “Okay, fine. You owe me, Victor.” He grumbled, standing from his seat and tugging his shoes on, throwing his hood over his head. “If I get there and Katsudon is just sleeping, you’re both screwed.
His sigh audible, Victor hummed his assent. "Thank you, Yurio. Call me once you get there.”
Hanging up his phone, Yurio shoved it into his pocket, heading toward the door. Victor’s apartment was a 10 minute walk at most, and he hadn’t gone on his morning jog, anyways. At least there was something in it for him.
When Yuuri woke up, it was to an anxious voice and the rough shaking of his shoulder.
Eyelids fluttering, Yuuri struggled to get a grasp on what was going on, his vision blurry and hearing spotty as he tried to figure out the words.
“Wake up, dumbass, tell me what’s wrong!” Yuri Plisetsky was bent over the couch, his usual expression pinched and worried.
Turning on his side, Yuuri hunched over and began coughing, deep and wet, choking on fluids and struggling to breathe. It felt like something heavy was on his chest, restricting his breathing and making him dizzy. He felt like he was boiling inside of himself, his skin crawling, drenched in a cold sweat.
“You’re freaking me out!” Yurio said, shaking him again. “What’s wrong?”
Yuuri wheezed, trying to breathe in. “Just… a little s-sick…” he rasped pathetically, unable to focus on his face. “Hurts to b-breathe…” he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut.
“You—you look blue, or something.” Yurio said. “And you’re on fire. I’m calling an ambulance.” He said, standing up and pulling out his phone, pressing in the numbers before Yuuri could even argue.
Only just able to hear Yurio’s frantic conversation over the ringing in his ears, Yuuri tried to push himself up on his arms, his entire being trembling with the effort. How had things gone downhill so quickly?
Struggling onto his elbows, he tried to ease the pressure on his lungs, gasping like a fish out of water as Yurio grabbed his sleeve and hauled him into a sitting position.
“God, Victor is going to freak out,” Yurio cursed, shaking his head. “The ambulance will be here in a minute. Just—just breathe, okay?”
The next several minutes were spent just like that, Yuuri struggling to breathe properly and Yurio sitting closer to him than he ever had before. Things had to have been bad if Yurio was still holding him up.
After that, things began to blur together.
The paramedics arrived, Yuuri was put onto a stretcher, and they took him to the ambulance. Yurio was quick on his tail, jogging to keep up and climbing into the back of the vehicle.
Sitting at Yuuri’s side, Yurio tapped his foot, unsure of what to do as the paramedics strapped a mask over his face and began getting an IV set up.
With alarm, Yurio noticed how out of it Yuuri was, his eyelids fluttering, pupils unfocused. His breathing was coming in shallow pants, his face void of color.
Dialing Victor’s number, Yurio crossed his arms and tried to keep his own breathing in check, his stomach in knots.
“Yeah, Victor? We’re… we’re going to the hospital.”
It was a handful of hours later when Victor arrived at the hospital, frazzled and exhausted and straight off of an airplane, his suitcase clutched under his arm.
A nurse was quick to direct him to Yuuri’s room, thankfully in the corner of the general care facility and not the ICU.
Victor burst in, his eyes wide and scared, to find Yuuri propped up in bed, mask hooked around his ears, his eyes half open and flickering away from the TV when the door was thrown open.
Despite the fact that he’d looked pretty okay when Victor had first come in, Yuuri’s eyes almost immediately welled up with tears. Dropping his bag, Victor ran over, wrapping Yuuri in his arms and squeezing him gently, gathering him closely and stroking his hair. “Are you alright? What have the doctors said, how are you feeling?” He asked, pulling back to gaze at his fiancé.
“I’m alright.” Yuuri said, though his voice was only just above a whisper. “They said I have pneumonia, but since Yurio took me here so quickly, some heavy antibiotics should help and they won’t have to drain my lungs.” He smiled, wobbly, at Victor, before wrapping his arms around him from the bed. “You didn’t have to come all the way back, I’m okay, now.”
Victor held Yuuri close, shaking his head as his gaze strayed to the machines in the room and the saline bag dripping into his IV. “Of course I did. I would never just leave you here alone.”
“That’s my cue to leave.” Yurio grumbled, getting up from the chair next to the bed where he’d been sitting, hands shoved into his pockets.
Victor pulled away from Yuuri, stepping aside. “Thank you, Yurio, really. If you hadn’t found him—”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He grumbled, glaring at the ground. “You owe me even more since your dumb boyfriend traumatized me.”
“Sorry.” Yuuri said sheepishly from the bed. “Thank you, Yurio.”
Huffing, he bumped Victors arm on his way out, shutting the door behind him.
Finally, Victor returned to his previous position, sitting himself on the edge of Yuuri’s cot and adjusting the blankets. Gently lifting the mask, he pressed a quick kiss to his lips, before putting it back where it belonged. “You scared me.” He said, honestly, as he laced their fingers and ran his thumb over where the IV protruded from his hand. “I sincerely hope you haven’t been on the rink lately, but I’m not going to push. If it happens again, you will not be skating competitively again, understand?”
Victor sighed, smiling. “Alright then. What are we watching?” He asked, shrugging off his coat and sitting against the pillows, opening his arms for Yuuri to snuggle up. He responded eagerly, settling into Victor’s side and resting his head against his chest.
“I’m actually not sure.” Yuuri admitted. “They put the subtitles on but I left my glasses home and can’t read them well…” he said, squinting at the screen.
“Don’t squint, that’ll just give you a headache. I can translate for you.” He said, simply. Yuuri nodded, smiling a little.
It didn’t take much of Victor’s soothing voice and the hand rubbing up and down his arm to lull Yuuri to sleep. By the time a nurse came in to check his vitals, they were both asleep, Yuuri worn down by illness and Victor from jetlag.
Despite her better judgement, she left them to rest.
For the sake of my own personal mental health… At least for a little while, I think I’m going to be putting out supports that personally make me feel nice. Or even like the angsty-but-happy-in-the-end kind of nice. This will probably end up being mostly cute girls falling in love. And it also kind of nukes the idea for a Corrinsexual-exclucively-focused update. Sorry about that.
I love you all, and please take care of yourselves. If nothing else maybe my blog can become a tiny pool of happy gayness in an ocean of terror. I’m here for you all. We need to stick together.