I love your blog! Too shy to send a request before though. Can you write something about the chocobros stealing kisses from their s/o when they're not allowed to. My bf is having tonsillitis and he won't allow me to kiss him to prevent the infection from spreading. But it's hard and I've tried to kiss him so many times that he just wear a mask around me now, except when he's sleeping so I kiss him a lot when we wake up and now I have tonsillitis too. Worth it. Thank you in advance ☺️
First off, thank you so much! I loved this request. Second, that is the cutest thing I have ever heard. You and your bf sound absolutely adorable. I hope you enjoy these scenarios!
You coughed into your tissue, tugging your blanket closer around your shoulders. Noctis sat beside you on the couch, flipping through channels on the television, and frowned. He scooted closer and rested his chin on your shoulder, which was made several inches thicker by your blanket shield.
You turned to him, puffy eyed and red-nosed. “What?”
He just looked at you with those baby blue eyes. You swore he made them glisten on purpose to get you to feel bad for him.
“Babe, I told you, no kisses,” you frowned, pressing your index finger to his forehead and pushing him away. “You’re gonna get sick. And you can’t, you’re the prince and you have an important—” your hands went up in the air dramatically when you lost your words, “thing you have to attend with the king in a few days. You can’t risk getting infected by me.”
“I hate those ceremonies,” he groaned, leaning his back against the couch. “They’re always so boring and go on forever.”
You should have known he would have tried this, but at that second, Noctis leapt onto you and pressed his lips against yours, kissing you far too deeply to be healthy at the given moment, and you pushed on his shoulders playfully when he didn’t immediately try to pull away.
When he eventually moved, he had a sly grin on his face. “Maybe I can call in sick and we can just spend the day together.”
You rolled your eyes, but scooted closer to him. “You big goof.”
You hated being bed ridden. It was infuriating, having no strength to get out of bed to even go to the kitchen to get yourself a cup of tea. You tried sitting up, but your bones absolutely ached. This fever was trying its damnedest to kill you.
Prompto came in with a damp cloth, pressing it to your forehead. “Here, babe, this’ll help,” he said, smoothing your hair away from your face. You sighed under his touch.
“Thank you for helping me, Prom. I really appreciate it.”
“No biggie,” he shrugged. Then he wiggled his eyebrows. “How about a thank you kiss?”
You stared at him, unblinking. “You do realize I have a fever of over a hundred, right?”
He blinked. “Are fevers contagious?”
“Gonna have to be firm on this one,” you stated. “Sorry, Prom.”
He whined, flopping backwards dramatically on the bed. “Oh, I think I’m dying too.”
“Prompto, get up, you’re squishing my legs.”
“How can I ever go on, I feel my body slowly being drained of life. If only someone out there could give me the cure to this disease, a simple kiss—”
He sat up onto his elbows briefly to gage your reaction. You were still frowning. He flopped back down.
“Looks like I’m going to die here on this bed. Tell my parents I love them, and that at my funeral I want there to be a hoard of chocobos…”
You sighed and forced your self up, and leaned over to give him a kiss. His hand immediately came up and held your head in place, keeping your mouth on his. You let out a moan and tapped his forearm when he tried to deepen it.
“Wow,” he breathed once you pulled away. “I feel miraculously better.”
You didn’t want to admit it, but you kind of did too.
You sighed. It was day five of you being sick, and while you were getting better, you’d lost your voice. A combination of a lingering cold as well as laryngitis decided to get the best of you, and you were on the mend.
You were grateful that Gladio was around to help you out around the house, but not being able to talk around him did have its disadvantages. Your doctor had put you on strict voice rest and said that you were not allowed to talk, and had to drink a special herbal tea to help soothe your throat.
“Hey babe,” Gladio called from the kitchen. “I have your tea ready for you over here.”
You got up from the blanket pile you’d created on the couch and shuffled over. You were wearing one of his hoodies that was far too big for you, cotton pajama pants and house slippers. You looked like an absolute mess, but he still regarded you with adoring eyes.
He handed over the mug and you nodded your head in thanks.
You took a sip and noticed that he was still looking at you. You cocked an eyebrow. As you did this, he made a kissy face at you. You shook your head, pointing at the mug and then pointing to your face. You were sick, and you didn’t want him catching your germs.
He kept making that silly kissing face and moved closer to you. You whined and nudged his face away, setting your mug down so as not to spill the tea everywhere. But he was persistent, making sillier and sillier faces to try and get you to laugh.
“Come on babe,” he wrapped his arms around your waist and made loud, over the top kissing noises in your ear. “Gimme some sugar.”
You laughed, and it came out as a coarse sound that hurt your throat. In that moment of vulnerability, Gladio laid one on you with a loud mmmmuah.
You blushed and buried your face in his chest. His laugh rumbled through you, and you just held him tighter to hide the smile that was hurting your cheeks.
It was flu season and it had claimed you as its victim. You didn’t get sick often, but when you did, Ignis always waited on your hand and foot. You protested of course, but it fell on deaf ears as he went around your apartment, tidying things up and getting whatever it was that you needed.
He checked your temperature with an at-home thermometer. “You know what would help?” he said, stroking his chin in thought. “I’m going to run you a bath.”
You sat up to tell him that it would be too much effort, but he was already gone, disappeared into the bathroom. You heard the faucet start, and sighed, sinking back into your pillows.
After a few minutes, he came back. “Come, love,” he came to your side and easily scooped you up in his arms. You squealed as he hiked you up a little higher in his grip. “I’ve put some epsom salts in the bath for you. A good soak will do wonders.”
Ignis helped you undress (with more protesting on your part), and lowered you into the tub. You sank in until only your head was above water, loving the feeling of the warm water all around you.
“This is perfect,” you admitted, allowing yourself to relax. “Thank you, Iggy. You’re too good to me.”
“Hardly,” he replied, sitting next to the tub and smoothing your hair away from your face. “You know I would do anything for you.”
You closed your eyes and leaned your head back. Just then, you felt a pair of lips quickly pecking yours. You opened your eyes and frowned at Ignis.
“You’ll get sick if you do that,” you chastised half-heartedly. He shrugged, a small smile gracing his features.
“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he replied, and he kissed you again.