Tommyinnit Oneshots

Colds and Presentations

Platonic A/B/O - rules about this AU were in the other chapter I wrote using the A/B/O dynamics called Distress, so check those out if you want clarification. Reminder, it's entirely platonic and there's no shipping in these stories or in this book.

TW: light sickness, swearing

Wilbur threw his arm over his eyes with a groan, glaring at the light peeking through the edges. Pushing himself up off his mattress, he blearily took in a figure who was in the process of opening his curtains, promptly identifying him as the fucker who'd ruined his sleep. Phil.

"Good morning, Wil!" The man said cheerfully, stretching out the 'o' in 'good'. Wilbur just glared at him. "Breakfast is ready downstairs, you'd better get up for school or else you'll be late."

The man left to go downstairs to the kitchen, presumably where the aroma of pancakes was coming from. Wilbur liked pancakes.

He hauled himself out of his nest and hurried to the hall, smelling something slightly sweet underneath the pancake smell. Maybe Phil prepared something else as well.
---
"Fuckin' alphas," Wilbur said under his breath, eyeing Techno's tower of pancakes. "As if you don't consume twice as much when your heat is near," Techno scoffed back, and Wil couldn't argue with that. He was a vacuum when his heat came around.

Phil shook his head and rolled his eyes with a smile, cutting into his own considerable stack of pancakes and taking in the banter between his kids.

As he watched them, he couldn't help but notice that Techno wasn't giving his absolute best to his argument with Wilbur, a very rare thing to occur, his attention seemingly elsewhere at the moment. He also observed that Tommy looked more tired than usual, and had barely said a word other than 'good morning'.

The third thing he noticed was that there was a strange smell in the air. It was so incredibly light that Phil was sure he had only been able to smell it with his unusually strong sense of smell, being an alpha.

It was so light, in fact, that Phil couldn't tell if it was coming from one of his sons or a completely different source, and it took him a solid minute and a half of scenting the air to determine it was an omega smell. It didn't quite match Wilbur's calm, sweet campfire-y smell (an unusual smell for an omega, but his son was full of surprises) so he wondered if it was perhaps seeping in from somewhere outside.

He shook it off, but not before locking eyes with Technoblade. The fellow alpha gave him a look like he had smelled something too. So, when the boys all hauled themselves into the car, Phil quickly asked his eldest to keep an eye on Wilbur today.

The pinkhead nodded, a familiar concerned protectiveness in his eyes.

Of course, no one expected that the one they'd have to keep an eye on was the youngest Craft sibling, whose classes were in an entirely different building.
---
"Hey man, you okay?" asked Tubbo after Tommy sneezed for the fifth time that period. "Yeah, jus' feel weird. Like, really weird," He slurred, only fueling Tubbo's concern. "How so?"

"S'like, I feel like I've got a cold or some shit, but I've also got the worst stomach ache. Is it the flu, do you think?"

"Maybe," Tubbo mused. "In that case, you should see the nurse. Your dad or one of your brothers should bring you home to rest."

"No," Tommy said with a pout, confirming Tubbo's suspicion that the boy was sick. He knew from experience that Tommy acted quite grumpy whenever he was ill. On the upside, his friend got very cuddly, which was a rare occurrence for him who often considered himself too big a man for hugs, even when he wanted one. Tubbo would never tell Tommy he knew that, though.