Mystic Messenger ~ oneshots 🤠

{32} 💕 iM sIcK - 707 💕

guess who's sick again,,,,
ME.
of course on the fuckin weekend too
anyway
miss me? :p

"Babe, it's literally 2 in the afternoon and you're still asleep!" Seven walks into your shared bedroom and immediately flops onto the bed, yawning from the all nighter he'd pulled for probably the third time this week.

"As much as you need your beauty sleep, you also need to you know... EXIST!" he looks up at you dramatically, only to realise you're still not awake.

Getting slightly frustrated at the lack of attention to his jokes, he flicks your forehead and manages to somehow bring you back to life. (finally)

"BABEEE, WAKE UP SLEEPYHEAD. I NEED ATTENTION. YOU CANT LET ME STARVE OUT HERE ALL ALONE WITHOUT YOU!" you open your eyes and realise it was Seven pestering the fuck out of you, but not only that.

You had a pounding headache.

Staring at Seven for a few seconds, you decide to already give up on the day and flop back onto your pillow, coughing a few times as you do that.

Seven on the other hand, was already off the bed with a mask and febreze by his side.

"Nu-uh, not when im trying to work Y/N. What if you give me Miss Rona??? Sure, we'll be fine but what about Grandad Jumin!?"

Fucking hell.

Maybe I'm not ill and it's just a result of dealing with this twit every day.

"Seven, I swear to god if you don't shut the fuck up I will cough on you and then Vanderwood will have to look after us." you cough a few more times after finishing and groan out of frustration, your voice being inhumanly nasely.

I really took breathing for granted, huh.

NEVER AGAIN.

Seven was seemingly going to respond with another witty remark before you sneezed and he was too caught up with spraying febreeze at you.

I'm gonna kill this motherfucker

You shoot Seven a deadpan look and he immediately runs out of the room silently, the pitter patter of his feet following him.

Finally, some peace and fucking quiet.

You stuff your head into your pillow and sigh, a few coughs spluttering out of your throat as you do this.

You always underestimate how horrible a cold is, I mean seriously it always feels like you're dying.

Your head felt so fuzzy that you didn't even notice Seven creep back into the room with some medicine in his hand.

"Y/N?" Seven taps you gently on your shoulder and runs back to the edge of the room, clearly afraid to be too close in case you infect him with your common cold.

When he gets no response, he creeps back towards you and taps your shoulder again, slightly more aggressive than last time.

"Y/N..." nothing.

"I don't have to plan your funeral do I? Have you even put me in your will yet?? You really should've thought about this before you went and died on me!"

By now you can already hear him laughing at his own joke, not that it was a rare occurance.

You also can't help but laugh in response, although it came out more like a croak when it quickly turns into a coughing fit.