Sweeeeeeeet Stuff On The Last Fic Omggggg

sweeeeeeeet stuff on the last fic omggggg

will u do a lil smut soon?

working on it rn anon. i’ll try to post asap.

have a nice dayyy

-léa

even at my worst ? even then ༊*·˚

m.list ◦ askbox

synopsis: timothée taking care of you while you’re ill (hcs)

when you first call to tell him that you’re ill, his first reaction is hysteria. every attempt of you to calm him down goes in vain and he completely ignores your warnings to not come over.

« i’m gonna be just fine, tim. it’s just a cold, really- » « i’m on my way. »

he quickly rushes to your flat, wanting to make sure that you’re okay himself.

« hey, how you feeling ? »

he sits on the bed beside you and places a hand on your forehead, before leaning down to press his lips on your temple to gauge your temperature.

« i thought you said it was just a cold. you’re burning up ! » « i’m fine stop fussing over me. » « you’re not ‘fine.’ »

you push him away and even though you are very thankful, you plead with him to go home. but he is not going anywhere. timothée just wants to be by your side, no matter what you tell him and how hard you try to urge him to go home, he is not leaving until you get better.

« i’m here to take care of you and i’m not leaving until you’re well again. »

he never imagined himself caring so much for someone to the point of feeling such deep pain and wishing to switch places and take the illness from you.

he turns the house up and down trying to find the thermometer and when he finally does, he tries to take your temperature multiple times. your faces fall and you both look at it sceptical until tim decides to go to the pharmacy and get a new one.

« don’t you dare get out of bed ! »

despite his limited cooking skills, timothée tries to cook for you - makes you soup and brings it to your bed. he waits for you to finish or at least eat a decent amount. you can’t help but chuckle every time you glance up and catch him staring at you while biting his nails.

« i know it’s shit but you have to eat it. sorry. » « it’s not shit. it’s good. » « oh. wow. okay then. i’m glad it’s good. »

timothée still falls beside you and holds you regardless of your state. he’s willing to bet his own health because he knows, he won’t be able to forgive himself if he makes you feel unwanted or that you are a burden to him.

« you’re going to end up just like me. » « you’re worth catching a cold over. »

he wraps his arms around you, bringing you close, and snuggles with you. you lean into his touch, head resting on the crook of his neck as he brushes your hair back, out of your face and presses sweet kisses on top of your head.

« i feel horrible. » « i know babe, i know. »

you watch your favourite movies and shows all day, always with your commentary on top. he gives in to all your wishes and even if he doesn’t like them, he tolerates them just to see you smile again.

when you overcome the dizziness you rest together and he softly reads your favourite book. timothée cracks a smile while reading and he just can’t stop himself once he notices your eyes following along the lines or when you mumble them out loud at the same time.

his eyes are on you while you sleep and he doesn’t leave your side for a second.

« sleep, i’ll be right here. »

he hums gently while playing with your hair, unsure whether or not you are listening until slumber takes over him as well.

when your temperature is high, you deliriously confess your love to him. he tries to soothe you by whispering words of affection and holding your hand tight. timothée intertwines your fingers together as he tells you how much he loves you and that he can’t wait for you to get better.

« i hope you get well as soon as possible, it hurts to see you suffering like this. »

you get embarrassed every time you feel sick in front of him but he reassures you it’s alright and he doesn’t mind it as long as you feel better.

« i’m disgusting... » « no, not to me. »

when it comes to you he can turn into a true hypochondriac. if the fever doesn’t retreat soon, he immediately searches the symptoms online and prepares to call a doctor or take you to the nearest hospital in case it escalates.

the whole situation makes you laugh, even if your head is on fire. he smiles miserably at you and the sound of your laughter brings him comfort.

« do i amuse you ? » « yes. »

timothée respects your silence and doesn’t force you into engaging in conversation.

he calls your mum to inform her of your progress and he’s the one who mostly speaks with her when you don’t feel like talking to anyone other than him.

you’re the only thing that preoccupies his mind while he’s away. he tries to go on with his day but it seems impossible, knowing that you’re alone and sick.

tim checks his phone constantly for any new messages and phones you often to see how you’re doing, remind you to use the thermometer or ask if you need or crave anything.

on his way home, he sometimes brings you your favourite flowers or very specific things he knows that even though you didn’t ask for, you are probably going to change your mind later.

timotée fills you up with his day and tells you all about his silly little encounters as he gently places a hand on your forehead before using the thermometer and helps you change into clean clothes.

it warms his heart watching you getting better and better day by day, becoming more talkative and eager to participate in lengthy conversations, laughing louder and smiling as you both sit on your bed with legs crossed, play cards and eat all the junk he got.

Nelumbium by Francesco Lojacono

Wilhelm Hempfing - Dreaming Girl on Summer Meadow

this sentence makes me hopping mad. WHAT R U TRYING TO TELL ME

Anaïs Nin, from a diary entry written c. October 1936, featured in The Diary of Anaïs Nin Vol. 2