Mystic Messanger X Reader Oneshots

Yoosung || Fulltimeptx

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READERS P.O.V

    It only took one simple text stating that I felt a bit under the weather to have the entirety of my apartment smelling like fresh chicken noodle soup. It was a pleasant smell, made with lots of a love and compassion; however when you were suffering from a stuffy nose, the lingering smell became something along the lines of torture. You were left there to sniff and sniff, hoping to get a good whiff of the scent- yet no matter how hard you tried, your blocked sense of smell prevented it. It was no use trying. I could physically feel my mouth watering, and due to this it was impossible to even get the smallest amount of shut-eye.

        With an exaggerated groan, I forced myself to sit up on my bed, pushing aside any locks of my h/c hair that happened to fall over my eyes. My whole body felt weak and fragile, and my head was heavy and clouded with exhaustion. It was a terrible state to be in, and it would have been great if I was able to help myself. If I could, I would get up and walk around in hopes to clear my mind. At the moment, nonetheless, I was being sentenced to "bed-arrest" by my boyfriend. I knew it was all out of love, but it was annoying either way. I'd beg and plead to just go for a walk to get some fresh air, but instead he'd simply tuck me back in bed, open a window, and state that "rest was the answer to a fast recovery!".

        My eyes scanned my room, vision blurry and the typical floater hovering by. It was oddly neat and clean- something that wasn't a typical trait for my room to have; it was usually cluttered a bit, nothing uncontrollable yet nothing attractive. Legs shaking, I stood up, balance not wanting to regain itself due to my lack of standing in the past 24 hours. I didn't care what my partner said- I was leaving my room.

        I shuffled across my small bedroom to the door, swinging it open lazily and continuing on to the kitchen. Just as I imagined, a more than familiar blonde-haired man stood beside the stove, humming the theme song to LOLOL and swaying his hips back and forth as he stirred a steaming pot of soup.

        "Yoosung...?" I whispered, my voice raspy and hushed. The man froze, spinning around on his heels to face me and pointing the wooden spoon that the held in his hands directly at me. Even from where I was standing I could see small droplets of broth dripping to the white tile floor. It would just be another thing one of us to clean up.

         "Ah! Y/N! What are you doing out of bed?!" He whined, almost as if disappointed. He set his spoon aside, running a hand through his silky blonde hair before bounding over to me. I went to speak, but as usual he beat me to it:

        "Jagiya! You're supposed to rest remember? You'll be sick twice as long if you don't get enough rest and that will make me sad!" Yoosung paused to puff out his bottom lip with overemphasized sadness, then inquired, "If you're sick, then who am I supposed to play games with!?" I furrowed my brows, sighing and shaking my head in disapproval. I truly appreciated that he cared, but sometimes he would get carried away. Even when he did, I always found certain factors of it to be amusing and over all adorable. Yoosung Kim was known for his childish, care-free behavior, therefore I expected him to be no different even when I was ill.

        "Yoosung, I'm fine. Really. It's just a cold. You're stressing out about this too much!" As I spoke I could see the confusion in his eyes. He wiped the frown off of his face, replacing his expression with a more serious one, then raised his index finger to my lips in protest,