#‘baby do you think I’m getting sick? why did I sneeze?’

[aureatchi]

⚕ ᡣ𐭩 . ° . AND IF THERE WAS A PLACE I HAD TO CHOOSE…IT’D BE IN YOUR ARMS TONIGHT. (bedroom session) ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor, akutagawa, sigma

— how the bsd men treat you when you’re sick. (& more)

a/n. started writing when i was sick djsjsja. tagging my moots who were under the weather anytime this month <3 to them & anyone else unwell, feel better soon !!

info. fem!reader. fluff. established relationships. light angst & hospital in akutagawa’s. chuuya plays the guitar. you play the piano in fyodor’s. sigma’s a chef. some inspo from RED for dazai & fyodor’s (our hcs!)

DAZAI will cuddle with you anyway, even when you are buried under bundles of blankets. he still thinks you need a little more warmth…and you look just too cute wrapped up in what resembles an igloo to not nuzzle with you! however, don’t be surprised when he blames you for making him sick once you recover, as if it wasn’t his fault.

“A-choo!” Your eyes were watery, you felt too cold for your liking, and it was harder than usual to breathe through your nose. Your sneeze made you sit up in discomfort, and you hastily pulled the covers toward you.

“‘Bella? Are you alright?” Dazai sat up next, meeting your eyes as you turned your face toward him.

He noticed how flushed your cheeks were and how watery your eyes were as you frowned—no, the first thought Dazai had wasn’t Oh no! You’re sick!

“Aw, love! You look so cute!” And he tackled you back down.

“Osamu!” you shouted as he lay practically atop you, squeezing you like a teddy bear.

“‘Samu!” you repeated once more. “You’re going to suffocate me!”

“You feel so cold, though, darling!” His reply was muffled as he buried his face into your neck.

“It’s like you’re trying to get yourself sick!”

He sat the both of you back up.

“H-huh? What’d you mean? Why would anyone willingly get sick?”

“Oh, I’m not sure either!” you exclaimed. “Maybe so you can use it as an excuse to skip wor-“

You sneezed again, interrupting your statement, seeing through Dazai’s plan.

“Bless you ‘bella!” he replied, a bit too excited. “What were you saying?”

“I. Was-” you sneezed again. And then twice. And then thrice.

“Aw, my poor baby!” Dazai spoke in his infantile voice. “Looks like you’re super sick…don’t you worry your pretty head about that. I have a solution.”

“Yes, please,” you responded—as best as you could with him pinching your cheeks—thinking Dazai would finally get up and bring you medicine so you didn’t have to do it yourself. That was, in fact, a terrible assumption.

“You trust me so well you didn’t even wait for me to tell you!”

“Uh-”

He then proceeded to pepper your entire face with kisses.

“Get-well kisses! They work better than medicine, trust me. Because these ones are made from lo-ove~.”

“Osamu!” you shouted. “You’re really going to get sick!”

“Do you really think I care, pretty?” He moved his face so his nose was touching yours. “I’ll tell you a secret. I know why I’d get willingly sick. So that I’ll be taken care of by my favorite girl in the world-“

“You’re so stupid!” you facepalmed. “You see being ill as a reward?”

“Yeah, I’ll make you believe so by the end of the day,” he winked. “I’m not going anywhere.”

…

Thankfully, Dazai did give you medicine to clear your stuffy nose. And then he told you to stay in bed while he would prepare you…breakfast.

“Oh no,” you said, knowing well that you mostly cooked the meals for a reason. Dazai was good at many things, but there were exceptions. He wasn’t the worst cook, but he certainly wasn’t the best.

“Wait, please trust me on this one!” he pleaded before you could get up. “I promise you I won’t burn the house down.”

The brunette was staring at you with dramatic puppy-dog eyes, and you were too tired to object any further.

“You have to make sure it’s edible, too,” you glumly replied.

…

It felt like almost an hour passed. You started to get worried—was he really struggling with cooking you something? You imagined the kitchen would be a chaotic nightmare by now, and it was enough to make you want to check on him.

But the moment you decided to get up, the door opened with Dazai bringing in a bowl of hot soup. Surprisingly, you could smell the aroma—and it was good.

“You really underestimated me, ‘bella?” Dazai smirked as he placed the bowl on a portable bed tray. “Bon appétit!”

“I haven’t even tried it yet,” you smiled back. “It might be the worst soup I’ve ever had.”

It wasn’t bad. You hated to admit it, but it tasted delicious.

“The virus must’ve affected my taste buds, too,” you chuckled. “Because for someone whose forte isn’t cooking, this tastes really good.”

Dazai wiped his head with a phew! “I actually…put in a lot of effort. I wanted to make sure I did it all right for you. Sorry it took so long.”

You wanted to hug him. You found it so adorable that he had really taken his time to make you something.

“Awe, thanks, Osamu,” you responded. “This was really sweet.”

“So…do I get a few kisses and back rubs as a thank you?” he asked.

“Sorry, back rubs? I’m the one sick; you should be the one giving me them!”

…

Dazai ended up giving you the massages in exchange for continuing to cling to you without complaint. You accepted and were defeated at this point—the man really wasn’t going anywhere.

He continued to stay with you until you felt better, and very unsurprisingly he spoiled your recovery celebration by becoming sick himself.

“Heh…” he mumbled as you looked at the thermometer with a frown. Contradicting was Dazai with a large smile, despite just finding out he had a fever.

“Your turn, ‘bella!” he exclaimed. “I already called Kunikida saying I’m going to be out for another week! This almost beats a vacation.”

“Osamu!”

“What? Any time spent with you feels just as amazing. And this is just a result of how well I’ve taken care of you.”

CHUUYA wants to make your recovery as comfortable and entertaining as possible—he doesn’t want his darling feeling mopey the entire time. after all, enjoying something distracts one from the botherations of being sick, right?

You hadn’t done as much as you would’ve liked today. Unfortunately, you were sick, but not to the point where you had to visit a doctor or were stuck in bed. It was an inconvenient gray area, where you were still able to do things but accompanied by the mild symptoms of a cold.

“Nah, doll, you’re just a workaholic.”

Chuuya laughed as you pouted while trying to do your laundry. Just because you were sick didn’t mean you should skip your chores. You would probably still go to work the next day, too—as long as you weren’t dying, you’d be alright.

You sort of felt like you were, though. You were overcome by a haze of debilitation, whether you wanted to admit it or not. But you couldn’t just sit around all day.

“I’m fine though, Chuu,” you replied, but a contradicting sneeze immediately followed.

“Your nose is saying something different,” he replied, handing you a tissue. “If you’re so bored, how ‘bout we do something actually fun? And won’t exhaust the life out of you?”

“Well, what are you thinking?” you asked, curious as you wiped your nose.

…

Chuuya had you sat by the table with a bowl and a box of cornstarch.

“Out of all people, it was Q who showed me this.” You raised an eyebrow. “Don’t worry, baby, it’s not dangerous. It’s weird, but I can’t deny this entrances me.”

Chuuya poured some cornstarch into the container and added a cup of water. “It gets a little messy, but…” he started combining the contents until it became a gooey mixture.

You started giggling. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but it definitely wasn’t the sort of crafts experiment you did as a kid.

“Chuu, this is quicksand. You’ve never made it before?”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Quicksand? Nope. But look—if you play around with it, it becomes solid—isn’t that amazing? But if you let it go-“

“It turns back into liquid, yes,” you replied before you sneezed again.

“It’s so weird! What kinda manipulation is this?

You couldn’t help but laugh at how the Port Mafia executive was captivated by such a simple science project. You watched as he played around with the oobleck.

You realized you could live this day simply as well. You proceeded to make your own cool mixture as well.

“You got some on your face,” Chuuya said a little after you were finished with your venture and were washing your hands.

“Where?” you asked, about to touch your head.

“Right here,” you felt his thumb gently rub your cheek and then move around your neck to tug you closer.

“Just kidding.” He stole a kiss in its place.

…

Chuuya sat down on the edge of the bed with his guitar. It was late afternoon, and you decided for once a very needed nap. But not before your lover entertained you with one more thing.

“I’m gonna give ya a little performance.”

He strung his guitar several times and ensured everything was correctly tuned.

Your widened eyes in curiosity made his heart warm. You were so enamored with everything he did—just as he was utterly obsessed with you.

He started playing a familiar tune. Your favorite song. You immediately smiled despite your oncoming headache.

“One day, I think I’ll write my own song for you,” Chuuya said. “You work so hard, how couldn’t you be the inspiration of a ballad?”

You cherished times like these. Even though you were sick, you had the company of the soft, sweetheart side of the Mafia Executive.

FYODOR is full of surprises, and you falling ill is no exception. unexpectedly, he decides to let go of his schemes and responsibilities for the day, to make sure you’re feeling better.

He could already tell by your unusual exhaustion yesterday evening. You didn’t do anything that required more exertion than usual, and it was too frigid in the year for you to feel so hot.

Fyodor already knew you wouldn’t feel so good when you woke up the following day. Your cheeks were flushed, and your head was pounding. It even ached to sit up. It was the worst combination.

Feverishly, you sneezed. A tissue was immediately placed over your nose.

“Blow, milaya.”

You looked up at Fyodor, who was standing by the bed. His amethyst gaze fell upon you—his usual amalgam of tranquility and complacency looked a bit different today…was there a hint of concern shining through his eyes?

You took the tissue from his hands and blew your nose.

“You’re supposed to be at work, no?”

You tried your hardest not to get sick because of this reason. You would be another hassle on Fyodor’s list of endeavors. You hated the thought of contributing, especially when he was already stressed and occasionally neglected his own needs with what he already had to do.

“You would really expect me to when I had to carry you to bed last night?”

The previous evening was a blur. Sometime after dinner, the weather immediately flew over you, and all your energy just drained out.

“Ah.” You sneezed again into the tissue. “Well, I think I’ll be fine on my own. I know you have a lot on your hands. I can take care of myse-“

“Please believe me. You’re not being a burden,” Fyodor cut you off and directly addressed the point you had been dancing around. His hand found yours and started to massage your fingers. He felt ice cold against you—or perhaps, you were on fire.

“Is your throat sore? I’ll make you some tea.”

…

He didn’t leave you alone for too long. Fyodor returned with a cup of hot ginger tea that you immediately took, desperate for some relief for your throat. Your nose was quickly soothed by the warm, sharp aroma of the ginger as you held the mug close to your mouth.

If there was one thing you learned, there was a type of tea for every occasion. Fyodor had an entire cabinet dedicated to those beverages—all precisely arranged.

“Is it alright?” Fyodor asked as you sipped, the liquid alleviating the soreness in your throat.

“Yes, of course,” you replied. “Maybe after I can try to get up…” your voice trailed off as you struggled even to shift your position.

“What’s wrong?” Fyodor moved beside you again as you frowned.

“I feel really sore. Like I ran a marathon without stretching at all yesterday,” you dryly chuckled, even though that had not been the case at all. Your whole body ached; it felt uncomfortable to move anything, and you felt awfully weak.

Fyodor didn’t respond for a moment, thinking.

“You can still entertain yourself without moving. Do you want to read? I’ll bring you to the living room.”

You curtly nodded your head and picked out one of the many books on the large shelf before Fyodor carried you to the sofa in the next room.

“Stay on my lap,” he said, holding you by your waist when you tried to move away.

“I don’t want you to get sick too,” you replied, confused.

“I won’t, don’t worry. Besides, I’m doing a favor for you.”

He motioned for you to enjoy your book and not pay attention to him. So you did as he said—you flipped to the page you left off on and tried to immerse yourself in the plot.

It got easy to do so and lose track of reality because Fyodor started to massage you—hands moving in circular motions on your shoulders to ease and relax the pain on your joints.

You felt both too hot and cold alone on your bed earlier. But here, in the embrace of your lover, you could see the end of your little tunnel of fever.

“Thank you, Fedya,” you whispered sometime after.

…

He got up to do something on his own a little later, but not before tucking you into the softest blankets you owned on the couch. He admired you for a moment right after—a touch of amusement in his eyes.

“What’s so funny?” you asked with a pout. You felt like you were made into a burrito.

Fyodor had thought the same.

“Milashka,” he simply smiled.

You thought he went away to attend to the business he was able to at home—Fyodor was infamous for being a workaholic after all, but you were surprised once again when amidst your reading, you heard a melody coming from the other room. Rich and resonant, you realized he was practicing his cello.

You placed your book down and freed yourself from the warm blankets before making your way over to the next room, disregarding the dull pain that still accompanied you.

Fyodor didn’t pause as you entered and sat down on the piano’s stool. You opened the cover and placed your fingers on the keys before smoothly joining in with the composition you had secretly been learning while he was away so you could play with him.

He probably suspected it anyway, but you still smiled and felt a little pride as you harmonized with him without error—and while sick.

♬♩♫♪

There was a moment of silence after the final note. You felt at peace. The tune made you sleepy.

Fyodor stepped towards you, and you lifted your head to meet his gaze.

“You played it perfectly, lyubov,” he said before kissing your forehead. “How about a nap now as a reward?”

…

After a glass of water and an adjustment of the heater, Fyodor tucked you back under the covers. He checked your temperature with the back of his palm, and he was appeased to find that your fever had noticeably gone down.

You suddenly giggled, catching Fyodor off guard.

“Why are you giggling?”

“I had an observation,” you chirped. You wanted to tell him it was evident he had been stealing physical affection from you throughout the day and that he wasn’t sly, but alas, exhaustion had overcome you again.

You took his own hand in yours. “Wash your hands after,” you whispered before placing a kiss on his fingertips. “This was nice. I feel better because of you staying.”

AKUTAGAWA feels that the roles have been reversed because it is usually him who is sick, and you helping him get better. however, this time it’s you, and so he wants to repay all the care and love you showed him. for once, not to prove something, but to show proof of your adoration towards him.

You didn’t want Akutagawa to visit you that day. You had sent him a text earlier that you were sick—your pneumonia was so severe that you were admitted to the hospital. He immediately rushed over right after.

You told him he didn’t have to—truthfully, half of your heart didn’t want him to because of his already weakened immune system and his tendency to get sick easily.

Yet he still showed up at your bedside with a “get-better” box and pink tulips, a mask covering half his face.

“Ryu, I appreciate this so much,” you told him, a cough accompanying your statement. “But I promise you don’t need to stay—I don’t want you to get sick too.”

He didn’t respond before striding over to the sink as if he were in his own house, grabbing a vase and filling it with water. You watched him trim your flowers, place them in the container, and then putting it on the counter.

“Ryu…”

“You’re in the hospital. Do you think I could just go about my day like my girlfriend isn’t sick?”

Even though his tone was straightforward, his hand gently brushed away the hair covering your eyes.

He was visibly bothered. He hated seeing you in the hospital gown, lying on the bed. He hated the IV line attached to you and the distant beeps! of your vitals. Akutagawa went through this experience more often than not, and if not painful, it was always irritating and unpleasant.

He would never want you going through this, even once.

“Are you comfortable? Should I move you to one of the VIP rooms?”

“That’s not necessary, thank you though,” you replied. You noticed the exhaustive distress in his argentine eyes.

“I’m going to be okay, Ryu,” you reassured him. “I promise. Just don’t touch me for now.”

Akutagawa nodded. “Are you hungry? Is there anything you’re craving?”

“I want…something sweet,” you bashfully replied. “All the hospital food was savory…they missed a dessert.”

You could see the corners of his mouth slightly lift up—an unlikely smile, especially in a place like this. “No explanations are needed. I’ll be back.”

…

He returned with one of the sweets you always picked up whenever you went grocery shopping and a couple of figs for himself. Akutagawa didn’t like sugary things that much, but this fruit he could eat for days. He indeed ate one a day—you were able to observe how long he would be gone on a mission based on how many figs he brought with him.

Akutagawa had brought two today. Was he planning to stay with you overnight? You knew he hated the hospitals—he would never willingly go to one.

Yet here he was, pulling up a chair by your bedside.

“I brought a book,” he said. “Can I read to you?”

“Of course,” you replied. “I didn’t feel like using the TV here anyway, so nothing’s been entertaining.”

The onyx-haired pulled out a book from his coat.

“Once when I was six years old I saw a magnificent picture in a book, called True Stories from Nature, about the primeval forest,” he started.

When Akutagawa was sick, you often read him children’s stories to combat his restlessness. He was calmed by your voice and fell asleep faster than any over-the-counter medication ever worked.

The first time you had found him in the hospital before you were even in a relationship with him, you introduced him to The Little Prince. At first, he scoffed and turned his back the other way, pretending not to listen. But his furrowed brows relaxed, and his frown lifted as you continued with the story—the theme of the openmindedness of children compared to adults, loneliness, love, and loss all gave him something to think about.

Eventually, the book became a source of comfort and light to Akutagawa, and now he had his own copy.

"‘And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.’” By the time Akutagawa had gotten to that part, you had dozed off into a nap.

…

When you finally awoke, the curtains were closed, and the only source of light came from an ambient lamp on the nightstand. And in this night, you also felt a soft pressure on your legs—Akutagawa’s head. He had fallen asleep too, with the book still flipped to a page.

You felt both adoration and woe in your heart. He was sacrificing comfort and possibly his health for you. You desperately felt the need to stroke through his white-tipped raven hair, but you didn’t want to heighten any more chances.

You fell asleep again after minutes of watching your lover’s chest delicately rise and fall, just as he carried his true self without his violent front.

…

Akutagawa stayed until you woke up the following day. He went out to do some errands and then returned with a small gift for you he picked up during the day. That was the routine he followed for the next three days, always content to find you better than the previous day until you were all better.

A nurse came in with a final evaluation and discharged you. You changed into new clothes Akutagawa had brought you before running up and embracing him.

He hugged you back tightly, relieved that you were finally out. He turned to the vase of the pink tulips, which were starting to wither.

“Just in time,” he said.

“The get-well-soon flowers,” you giggled, taking your first good look at them. You loved how he knew of flower symbolism.

“Let’s get out of here,” Akutagawa said, holding out his hand for yours to take. “I despise dwelling in this place any longer.”

SIGMA is worried sick, even though you’re the one sick. how could he not, especially when he isn’t with you? are you feeling alright? drinking enough water? eating well?

“You’re sick?” Sigma asked over the phone.

“Is it my fault? I mean, I was feeling unwell last week, but I got better in a day, so I didn’t think it was that serious…”

“No, it wasn’t; please don’t worry,” you replied. You hated when your lover blamed your problems on himself. “But yeah, it sucks. I even lost my smell! I can’t smell anything.”

“Really?” You sensed his worry through the call.

“Do you need to go to a doctor? I can pick you up and take you there—or I can call the doctor to your house if you’d prefer that-“

“No, it’s okay! It’s not that serious; I’ll be fine in a few days,” you said. “I just wanted to let you know because I won’t be able to see you for a week. But don’t worry about me. I’ll update you.”

“Oh, I see,” Sigma responded. “Alright then.”

Firstly, Sigma was most definitely worried. Secondly, you couldn’t smell? He knew how much you loved the dulcet scents of the desserts he created and the delicate fragrances of your favorite flowers. You must’ve been even a little upset when you realized that sense was gone.

Of course, he wasn’t going to leave you to battle the viruses alone, despite you having just said you didn’t plan to see him until you got better. So, the part lilac, part pearly-haired immediately set out to plan a sweet surprise for you.

…

The next day, Sigma showed up at your front door with a homemade bento box and a few bags of groceries.

“What are you doing here?”

“I at least have to check if you’re eating well.”

One thing that hadn’t changed since meeting Sigma was the butterflies in your stomach feeling. He always showed nothing but ultimate consideration and compassion towards you, treating you like royalty.

“I’m trying,” you replied honestly. “Everything tastes the same. I can’t smell any of it.”

“Maybe it’ll be more appealing if the food looks nice.” With that, he walked to the dining table.

“You haven’t had lunch yet?” You nodded, expectably to him.

“Sit down, love.” He pulled out one of the chairs. You followed him, taking a seat as he prepared your meal—putting a placemat on the table and setting the bento box on top.

You opened the container, and you were revealed with an assortment of the prettiest foods. For the first time this week, you were hungry.

The ones that caught your eye the most were the rice balls decorated to look like chibi versions of you and Sigma. A part of you didn’t want to ruin something so cute.

“What—this is so cute, Sigma! You’re so creative,” you complimented him. “It’s like you cook with magic.”

You noticed Sigma’s cheeks tint a rosy pink. “T-thank you. Go ahead and eat while I prepare your dessert.”

“Dessert?” you asked as you eyed the remaining grocery bags he was holding.

“You’re going to bake here?” You weren’t complaining, but you wondered why he didn’t decide to do it at his place.

“Yeah. That way, it’ll taste the best. Everything tastes the best when it’s freshly baked.”

…

You ended up eating everything. Sigma’s cooking never failed to impress you, even for a previously sated stomach.

“I finished!” you exclaimed, earning a smile from Sigma in the kitchen.

You hadn’t paid attention to what he was making in the meantime. He had put the tray of mystery into the oven a few minutes ago, so you were unable to see what it was.

“It’ll be done in twenty minutes,” Sigma said, walking over to you and taking your hand. “Was it good?”

“Very tasty; I’m full now,” you replied, looking up at him. His ashen eyes shone a gleam of fondness once he made eye contact with you, causing him to fluster again. He was so cute—at times, Sigma still acted like a schoolboy with a crush on you.

“You know your body makes room for dessert,” he noted coyly.

He guided you to stand up, and as you did, a familiar scent softly breezed past you.

The smell of your favorite muffin—and the smell of Sigma’s kitchen. It was faint, but it was there. Your eyes widened in wonder.

“Wait, Sigma—I can smell this!”

Even though it was a bit dramatic, you were cheerful to finally be able to smell any thing after a couple of days. You spun with Sigma around the room in delight. Surrounded by the aroma that made you feel truly at home and the sunrays through the windows, you started to dance together.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked, a bit concerned you were spinning around while feeling unwell.

“Yes,” you reassured him, drawing Sigma into an embrace. “I’m just thrilled right now. I think you’re cooking does have magic.”

…

The muffins were out and looked mouthwatering. Sigma took the first one from the tray and peeled down the wrapper.

“First taste is yours,” he said, taking your palm and placing the pastry in your hand.

“Today, I’ll be Sigma’s food critic,” you joked among the two of you. “He’s baked my favorite muffin—I’m rea-ally picky about this dessert, for your information. So I’m going to be really harsh on this review…”

Catching him off guard, you ate the entire sweet in one bite. You started laughing when Sigma abruptly gasped.

“Mm! That was delicious!” you declared, trying to sound like you were trying this for the first time. However, it contradicted the way you were reaching for a second one. Sigma had made this for you hundreds of times before—there was never one time you refused a muffin from him.

“Eleven out of ten!”

“And so are you,” Sigma added, bopping you on the nose. “If my cuisine does involve magic, then I hope that the food works better than medicine.”

bea’s acoustic songs are always so calming & pretty; in my mind, this is what chuuya plays for me. <3

i saw you said you were sick on the dash this month, i’m glad you’re feeling better by now/feel better soon, this is for you <3 @lovedazai @cheriiyaya @chuuyrr @osaemu @atlasnessie

i heard if you rb, your fav will give you get-well kisses until you feel better !! reblogs are cherished; they are what support me the most <3

© AUREATCHI 2024. no reposts or translations. do not steal. dividers by cafekitsune.

#₊ ⊹˚✉︎𑁤 with love; reverie #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd fluff #bungo stray dogs #dazai osamu #dazai x reader #dazai fluff #bsd dazai #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #chuuya fluff #bsd chuuya #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader #fyodor fluff #fyodor bsd #akutagawa ryuunosuke #akutagawa x reader #akutagawa fluff #bsd akutagawa #sigma x reader #sigma fluff #bsd sigma #bsd imagines #bsd scenarios #bsd headcanons #aureatchi

[yxami]

Hi! Wanted to tell you that I loveeee ur ocs! They are just so cute!!

Btw, since you mentioned yandere jock not getting any love I was wondering if I could request a scenario where reader disappears for two weeks because they got sick and no one knows that they’ve just been bed ridden for those weeks. (I don’t get sick often but when I do it’s for WEEKS) how would our lovely jock react? Our poor reader being left home alone for hours as they try to nurse themselves back to health.

Ik this is sort of a weird ask but I just wanted to ask!

This isn’t a weird ask, it’s a cute idea to think about! I’m always getting sick it sucks lol. Anyways though it’s interesting to try and find out how yandere jock would act before and after he became friends with the reader, so I’ll do both! I’m happy you like my oc’s!

description: sick reader x yandere jock, bully x reader, bully to friends, yandere jock still unnamed lmfaoo, just a short fic!

Before becoming friends with you, yandere jock would push you, mock you, and make your life hell overall. One day, he went a little too far. He had pushed you in the school fountain, causing your clothes to be wet. Luckily, your school things weren’t wet since they were on the grass. You were soaked though, and you knew you’d get sick.

You always got sick from rain water and whenever you got wet and cold. That’s why whenever your weather app predicted even the slight chance of rain, you packed an umbrella with you. But being pushed into a fountain was never predictable to you.

You sucked it up and collected all your stuff after wringing out water from your clothes. Your bully laughed his ass off while walking away. Too busy to see how your face was red with embarrassment.

After that, you were stuck at home the next day. Sniffling and sneezing every second, it was so annoying. Dealing with your sickness alone was also irritating. You were in bed thinking about all the work you would have to catch up on.

While you’re in bed, yandere jock is at school, wondering why you’re not at your desk. Did you finally give up on coming to the school? He tried ignoring your missing presence but it nagged him all day. Who was he supposed to make fun of now?

Every passing day, he grows more and more impatient. Did you leave the school? Not even the teachers called your name out anymore. They just immediately assumed you weren’t here and sometimes asked why you weren’t at school. Nobody knew though, so they just shrugged in response.

It was about two weeks of not coming until yandere jock finally breaks and finds out where you live from one of the classmates you talk to every now and then. It was boring to not have you there to entertain him. He marched his way to your door after searching up the directions on his phone.

You didn’t live too far away so right after school ended, he was already there. You heard a loud knock at your door and you groaned, having to get up and go see who it was. You swore under your breath, believing it wasn’t important. Until you opened the door and saw exactly who it was.

“What are you doing here!?” You were surprised to see yandere jock glaring at you. His stare was intense, as if you had done something to upset him.

“Why aren’t you at school?” He let himself into your house, acting as if he lived there.

“Because I’m sick..!” You frowned seeing how he entered your house like nothing. Now you weren’t even safe from his bullying in your own home.

“Why? Did someone get you sick?” He turned to look at you, no longer staring the decorations in your house. He was about to go observe baby pictures of you that were on the wall.

“Uhm no.. you pushed me in the school fountain awhile ago. I’ve been sick ever since” You looked away to sneeze, you didn’t want to get him sick. Even if he was an asshole.

“That got you sick?” His eyes shined in confusion, not getting that it was his fault that you were sick.

“Yeah..” You sneezed again, unable to hold the sniffles that came along.

Once yandere jock understood that he got you sick because of the fountain incident; he mumbled angrily to himself, leaving his bookbag on the floor before he left your house. You just stood there a little confused. Was he going to come back? He left his bag after-all..

He went to the nearest pharmacy to pick up some medicine for you, grumbling to himself about how stupid you were for not taking any medicine that would help you.

He came back faster then you thought, shoving a white plastic bag into your chest. You grabbed it, noticing how it held a few items in it. You dug through it, seeing that it was medicine for you.

“Take it and come to fucking school tomorrow. Next time don’t be an idiot and get someone to help you” He grabbed your phone, typing in his number and sending a quick message so you’d have it.

“Thanks..?” You stared in confusion before thanking him.

“Fucking loser” He responded, slamming the door after he got his bag and left.

Of course, that’s before the two of you became friends! Afterwards, he’d act different but still a little similar to his old self.

He knocked at your door, wondering why you haven’t been to school at all. He filled your phone with millions of text messages. Messages that asked where you were, when you were coming back, and why you weren’t responding.

You opened your door to see an angry face, an expression you never saw before.

“Why haven’t you been coming to school? You haven’t been responding to any of my text messages! You’re lucky I found out your address from an old post you made two years ago!” He huffed, entering your house before you could respond.

“I’m sick, I got stuck in the rain when it poured really bad” You sneezed into a tissue you had, your nose was red from sneezing so much.

“That was two weeks ago! I offered my umbrella and you said it was fine! Tch, and why aren’t you in bed?” He hissed at the fact that you were up, as if you weren’t half dead!

He picked you up, carrying you like an upset child. You yelped in surprise, holding onto his neck while he held you up by your ass. He was strong so he had no struggles tucking you in bed.

“You should’ve texted me back” He made a hmph sound with a pout on his face.

“Sorry.. I was going to but I didn’t want to make you worry by saying I was sick” You sneezed into another tissue, after throwing away the used one in the trash can placed next to your bed.

“And where’s your actual medicine? This shit sucks” He tossed your medicine into the trash can.

“I’m gonna go to the store and get you some. Don’t even think about getting up!” He shot you a look, hastily walking to go and buy you some better medicine.

Normally, he was nice and friendly but you guessed that he was slightly mad at you for not responding. You found it cute how aggressively worried he was.

He came back with medicine and spoon fed you, ignoring your embarrassed complaints. He went to work in the kitchen while you took a nap, preparing you a meal. He was lucky enough to be taught some cooking skills.

He served you some hot soup in bed, managing to feed you a bit before you convinced him that you could do it yourself. Blush was steady on your face after he caressed your face. He sat on your bed, going on your phone to pin his contact so he was the first one showing up.

After you ate, he washed the dishes and made sure you took the right medicine before having to leave to go to his house. He kissed your forehead and said his goodbyes, managing to sneak in a cheek kiss as well.

#yandere #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #male yandere #pls request #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #gn reader #sick reader #yandere oc #soft yandere #mean yandere #bully yandere #yandere bully #bully to friend #yandere jock #ethanmyoc

[kooktrash]

Omg can u write a drabble about seven days to love Jungoo being sick and whiney (and attention seeker) and oc taking care of him ofc hehe 🥺🥺🤍

okokok im bringing him back since he’s such a baby. you don’t have to read SEVEN DAYS TO LOVE to understand this drabble <3

JUNGKOOK’S SICK DAY | jeon jungkook

warnings: none. straight fluff. sick jk. needy jk. 1.9k words.

Your relationship with Jungkook started off rocky and you take full blame for that. You had been too stubborn to admit that he wasn’t as bad as you made him out to be and over time you let him creep his way into your heart till he was pretty much the owner of it. Of course this dwill don’t mean you made it easy for good m but it was only because you knew he secretly liked your mean streak. Your boyfriend was sweet and so unbelievably funny practically all the time that it didn’t take you long to realize when something was wrong—take the other night for instance when you unintentionally made him jealous and snapped at him for it.

This morning was another one of those times when you noticed he was acting differently than usual. It was the most minuscule of things that caught your attention today but it was just strange. Typically, on mornings you didn’t spend with Jungkook at your side, he sent you a good morning text. Last night you worked late and had an early morning class today that it had just been easier to go back to your own place and not visit Jungkook since it was a farther drive from campus. You expected to wake up to one of his long and dramatic good morning texts that usually went along the lines of:

‘kook🖤: good morningggggggggg my angry little cinammon roll, idc if you hate the nickname, I love it bc I know it annoys u hehe. miss u’

It was very annoying but unbelievably endearing and you always responded with a:

‘you: pls stop calling me that, it’s so corny.

you: but morning, miss you too <3’

Today though, you woke up with nothing and when you checked his location out of curiosity if he was busy, you found him at home and ended up calling him.

“Hello?” His voice was groggy and tired which was unusual for him at this hour, it was the first sign that something was up.

“Good morning, I didn’t get my text today,” you said sitting at your vanity as you readied yourself for work. It was a little past noon and you had already gone to class and he had yet to reach out to you. That was strange considering how clingy your boyfriend usually was.

Jungkook lay in his bed, wrapped like a burrito in his blankets and phone on speaker lying on the pillow you usually used, “Sorry baby, I’m just waki—achoo!”

You paused, taken back by his overly loud sneeze and sniffle, “You okay?”

You’re not sure why you expected the big baby that Jungkook was to say yes when it was just so out of character. You should’ve known he would have responded with a whine, “No! I don’t feel good, a-and I want you to come over and make me feel better.”

“I’ve gotta get to work,” you said with a pout, “Joon would kill us both if we don’t show up. Did you call in yet?”

“I’m about to,” Jungkook said with another loud sniffle and cough that made you wince, “Please, Y/n, come over.”

“Jungkook, I can’t,” you said apologetically, “Taehyung is the only one working tonight and you’re already not going in so I can’t miss too. It wouldn’t be fair—“

“Y/n, come over!” You could practically see him kicking his feet in a childlike tantrum.

“Babe,” you released a sigh, “I’ll feel bad if I miss. I’ll come over right after, take something and sleep, okay?”

“I want you.”

“Do I look like cold medicine?” You asked, hearing him mumble a yes that made you smile in amusement, “I’ll see if we can finish early, I promise.”

Jungkook left you with a muffled goodbye and you felt bad just leaving him hanging but Namjoon was your boss and friend. He doesn’t like dating in the workplace but he’s fine with the two of you and you don’t want to take advantage of him or make him think you won’t put work first. He probably won’t like that you’ll miss work simply because of your boyfriend, so you got to work feeling awful for leaving Jungkook to fend for himself.

“So, no Jungkook today?” Taehyung asked from the stop of the stairs where his sound booth was. You shook your head no, “Don’t think he feels good.”

“Poor baby,” Taehyung pretended to wipe a tear away, “Well, thanks for coming in, I have a feeling he didn’t make it easy for you?”

“Not at all.”

kook🖤: 🤒😞

you: have you taken anything yet?

kook🖤: 😞

you: boy…

kook🖤: 🤧😞

“Y/n, tell your boyfriend to stop texting me,” Taehyung said suddenly, “He keeps crying that he wants you to go see him.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed in disbelief, “I didn’t know he was such a big baby when he’s sick.”

“The biggest,” Taehyung said with a shake of his head, “If you could stick around for at least another hour or two, I’ll let you go, but let’s just see how busy we get.”

The answer was, you didn’t get busy at all. Although you wanted to go over to Jungkook’s place right away, knowing him, he wasn’t prepared for a mile cold and you ended up going to the store to find some over-the-counter medicine and some easy foods he could eat. When you finally got to his place it was just before the sun could set and you let yourself in with the key he had given you a while back.

“Who’s there?” Jungkook shouted tiredly from his bedroom, “If it’s not Y/n it better be the Grim Reaper because I’m depressed.”

You rolled your eyes setting your bags down, “It’s Y/n!”

You heard intense rustling and banging from his bedroom until suddenly you were being confronted by Kaonashi from Studio Ghibli’s Spirited Away—you mean your boyfriend, who was completely wrapped up in his black comforter with huge bags under his eyes, “Jeez babe, you’ve definitely seen better days, huh?”

Jungkook made a whining sound as he opens up his arms and the blanket before dragging you into him, wrapping you in with him and squeezing tightly, “S-so cold.”

“Did you take anything yet?” You asked, feeling your feet lift off the ground just a bit with how he held you in a hug. You felt him shake his head no and with an annoyed sigh you asked, “Jungkook! I’ve been telling you all day to take something. How are you supposed to get better?!”

“Stop yelling at me,” Jungkook sniffled as you struggled to free yourself from his hold, “I’m sick.”

You released a sigh as you lifted a hand to feel his face and neck and sure enough he felt warm, “Have you eaten?”

He shook his head no with a pout, and you took a breath, “Okay, why don’t you get in the shower and I’ll make you something real quick.”

“Come,” he begged, grabbing your arm but you shook your head.

“No, I’m going to making you something to eat, hon, go shower it’ll help with your fever,” you told him and with an annoyed whine he left.

“So dramatic,” you whispered to yourself watching him shimmy his way back to his room still wrapped in his blanket and you smiled at how cute he was.

You didn’t start cooking until you heard the shower running and you hurried to make him a simple soup that he better like because you're not a cook at all. He’s making you have to learn because he’s such a big baby who forgot to feed himself.

Not even five minutes later was he back out, shuffling his way back to you and hugging you from behind. “That was not a shower, Kook. It wasn’t even five minutes.”

“It was a rinse,” Jungkook confessed, following you around the small space of his kitchen. You just sighed, “Okay, get in bed, it’s almost ready.”

He whined making you look at him with a scoff, “I didn’t know you were so bratty when you’re sick, you big himbo! I already left work early, I’m not leaving, I’m gonna take care of you so just go to bed and I’ll be there soon.”

Jungkook grumbled under his breath as he retreated, “Always so mean to me.”

When you got back to Jungkook’s room holding a tray with his food you found him face down on his bed, spread like a star fish pretending to cry, “Y/n doesn’t love me.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed as you entered his dark abyss, “You’re lucky you’re cute because I’ve never met someone this dramatic in my life.”

Jungkook smiled, rolling onto his back, eyes red and puffy, nose red and puffy, lips red and puffy, “You’re back. Come in bed and let’s watch a movie.”

“First, take your medicine,” you ordered as he took his remote control off the nightstand and began searching through Disney movies.

“Princess and the Frog or Tangled?”

“Jungkook,” you warned him as he talked to himself.

“Princess and the Frog, I completely agree,” he mumbled to himself, “You’re like Tiana, personality wise and I’m like Naveen.”

“You’re more like Louis,” you told him as you handed him the medicine and a glass of water.

“Did you just call me an alligator?” He asked with furrowed brows as he attempted to glare at you but he couldn’t.

“Big scary baby just like you.”

“So mean to me,” he mumbled as he looked down at the bowl of soup before letting his jaw drop.

Your brows furrowed, “What’s wrong?”

“Aren’t you going to feed me?” Jungkook asked cutely. As much as you wanted to smack him, he was sick and you owe it to him to be here. You want him to see you care about him just as much as he cares about you and if that means spoon feeding him to make him happy, you’ll do it.

“I didn’t know having a fever meant you can’t use your hands,” you teased as you blew softly on the hot soup before bringing it toward his mouth, “And you better eat all this because I hate cooking.”

“Yes ma’am,” he joked as he took the spoon finally and began shoving it all into his mouth, “So good, I should snap a picture and post this on Twitter—I mean, ‘X’, and tag Gordon Ramsey.”

“Shut up,” you laughed.

Once he was done, he threw himself back with a burp, “Wow I feel so much better.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“I do,” Jungkook nodded his head, “Guess I was away from you too long and my body couldn’t take it.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, “So dramatic.”

He laughed, “Kiss?”

“No, you're still sick, I could hear it in your voice,” you told him and he pretended to glare at you. “Y/n. Kiss. Now.”

“No—Jungkook!”

He tackled you onto the bed, putting his entire weight on you and trapping you beneath him, “Kiss.”

With a tired groan you nodded, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him down until your lips met. Jungkook smiled into the kiss, making himself more comfortable between your legs, not wanting to pull away even when you gently pushed at his chest. “Okay, Kook, there, you already can’t breathe well with your runny nose, let’s not push it.”

“Mm,” he groaned, “Baby, I’m sick, you can’t keep pushing me away.”

“How can I push you away when you’ve got me trapped under you?” You asked, tilting your head cutely that he smiled, squirming a bit over you.

“Right, I forgot.”

You spent two days dealing with your sick boyfriend who was the neediest baby you’ve ever met in your entire life, but you’d do it all over again.

::.

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog g @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802 @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

#jeon jungkook #jungkook one shot #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fic #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook request #jungkook smut #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #jungkook drabble #kooktrash requests #seven days to love

[fear-is-truth]

 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐬: 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤

𝐓𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐧

you find him lying face down on the floor, unmoving.

“tate..?”

his eyes are red-rimmed and slightly watery when he rolls over to face you.

you put a hand to his forehead, which was burning hot.

"oh god, you're hot!”

“i know, it’s one of my finest attributes.” he mumbles.

“tate i was talking about your temperature-"

you ask him if there’s anything you can get for him to make him feel better

he looks at you with puppy eyes and tells you that you’re all that he need.

and those cherry-flavored cough drops (he can finish the entire box if you’re not watch)

loves to snuggle against you in bed. extra clingy.

your soft coos, the feeling of your fingers running through his hair as he falls asleep.

he just loves it when you baby him.

𝐊𝐢𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫

he comes home from work one night, and you could hear him sneezing in the hallway.

when you go over and greet him, kit wraps his arms around you and after a bit of hesitation, pecks your cheek instead of the usual passionate kiss on the lips.

“sorry, suga. but i think i’ve caught a cold, don’t wanna risk you gettin’ sick.”

tired as hell but insists that he’s fine and you should tuck the kids in bed first. asks you to give thomas and julia a kiss on the forehead for him.

after the kids are in bed, you do everything to make your hardworking and sweet husband feel better. treat him like the king he is.

you draw him a relaxing, warm bath with salts, and sit at the edge of the tub, massaging his shoulders.

“what did i ever do to deserve an angel like you, hm?”

before you could reply, he wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you into the tub.

needless to say, he felt a lot better after that. to him, you’re the best medicine in the world.

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡

he carries on with his duties as a hotel owner / serial killer like every other day.

although he does a good job of hiding it, you can just tell something’s up.

the way he keeps using his handkerchief to wipe the beads of sweat on his forehead.

not to mention him attempting to stifle his coughs by pretending to clear his throat.

when you ask if he's feeling a bit 'under the weather,' he dismisses it by saying, “nonsense. i’m dead, dear. ailments no longer affect me."

james is a busy man– there are hotel guests to greet and people to murder. and for whatever reason, he doesn’t want to admit that he’s sick.

so there’s one more option to “lure” him into taking it a small break.

you simply express your wish to spend some quality time, and james immediately focuses all his attention on you.

james is a busy man, but spending time with his queen is always his top priority.

you both unwind by engaging in relaxing activities together, such as playing cards, reading, or discussing plans for the upcoming devil's night over hot tea.

𝐊𝐚𝐢 𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧

deny, deny, deny.

stomps around the house aggressively doing everything to prove that he’s not sick at all.

very hostile and snappy to anyone who bear witness to his sick, weakened state.

complains about everything.

“why is it so fucking cold here? did the heater break down again?”

kai also refuses to take medicine that you or winter try to give him.

you have to leave a box of NyQuil and a glass of water somewhere obvious, where he would find.

he pretends not to notice them.

but when you check on it a couple of hours later, you find a few pills missing from the blister pack.

the glass of water remains untouched, though. he swallows his pills dry. (typical kai behavior)

𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐊𝐲𝐥𝐞

kyle doesn’t really mind being sick all that much.

but he hates the cough syrup and refuses to take it.

(but who can blame him? that stuff is nasty)

you try to trick him into taking the “magic syrup” but he didn’t fall for that.

after fifteen minutes of failed attempts, you resort to to bribery:

promises of chocolate chip cookies, with lots of hugs and kisses finally made him take the spoonful of syrup.

(him scrunching up his nose and making weird faces all the time)

you build a cozy nest made out of blankets, pillows and stuffed animals.

then you watch videos in his ipad, sharing a box of cookies. (crumbs all over your bed but who cares?)

and lots of cuddling, kisses and affection.

you probably end up sick too.

but hey, it’s your sweet boy kyle. definitely worth it :)

consider this a sequel to “what they would do if you are sick”

✧. a/n ─ pls excuse the cringe writing, i wrote this while i was literally sick in bed :,) if you wanna be on my taglist just lemme know <3

#american horror story #ahs #evan peters #tate langdon #kit walker #kai anderson #james patrick march #kai anderson x reader #kai anderson x y/n #tate langdon x y/n #Tate Langdon x reader #kit walker x reader #the evans headcanons #jpm x reader #Kyle spencer #franken kyle #kyle spencer #ahs cult #kit walker x y/n #jimmy darling

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Then & Now (M, cold)

Hiii, hope you like A LOT of hurt followed by 2-3 sentences of comfort lmao. This is Greyson fic - Grey is sick on a day he and Reed are supposed to have a date, and he's sure Reed is going to be angry with him because Trauma(TM). It's told in a flashback sort of format which I really enjoyed because I love writing blurbs of colds at different times in life lol. I hope you guys like it, please let me know what ya think, good, bad, or otherwise :)

CW: Male snz, cold, pneumonia mention, coughing, contagion mention, lots and lots of whump lmao. A little over 4K words under the cut.

Then & Now

Now

“Morning, Chef.”

“Huh-! HhITSZHH-ue!”

Elijah turned towards Greyson, who was doubled over into his hoodie sleeve, and gave him a sympathetic grimace. “Cooks finally pulled you under, hmm?”

“Ugh, like way fuckin’ under,” Greyson muttered, rubbing his eye and sucking in through his nose. “I feel like ass.”

“Sorry, dude,” Elijah said, tossing his counterpart a box of tissues. “Sucks.”

Greyson caught the box and pulled out a few just in time. “HITSZHZH-uhh!” This one, he managed to catch in the handful of tissues. He wiped his nose and shrugged. “Yeah,” he said, tossing the used tissues. “Mbostly because I was supposed to have a date tonight.”

Elijah smirked at his friend, who was pushing past the GM into their shared office. The two of them sat in unison. “Do you guys still call them dates? You’ve been official for, like, six months.”

“It’s our six-month anniversary,” Greyson said, his voice flattened by congestion. “We were going to do EMP.”

“Awww, now I’m depressed,” Elijah said. “Also, why didn’t you tell me earlier you were going to Eleven Madison? I still know people there.”

“So does Reed,” Greyson said, massaging his temple. “That’s why we were goigg. Fuck, mby fuckin’ head is pounding. Do we have any -?”

Elijah placed the ibuprofen in front of the chef before he could ask, along with a bottle of cough syrup and a decongestant. “You know we have it all,” he said, pushing an old cup of water across the desk for Greyson to swallow his arsenal of pills. “And fair enough. Well that fuckin’ sucks, dude, I’m sorry. Hey, at least you can leave early, right? Matt’s closing?”

“Yeah,” Greyson said, unwrapping a cough drop and popping it in his mouth. “I’ll head out once the rush is over. I still have to text Reee – hh...hhNTSHH-ue! HGTSHH-uhh!” Greyson doubled over, sneezed into his arm, and groaned. “I’mb gonna kill the guys when they get in,” he said, mostly to himself.

“Don’t do that,” Elijah said, placing a hand on Greyson’s shoulder on his way out of the office. “Then you’ll have to stay all night.”

Greyson huffed out a laugh and pulled out his phone. He clicked on his conversation with Reed, sighing. He did not want to have this conversation.

Greyson

9:31AM

hey babe. gonna have to cancel tonight, the cooks infected me w their plague :( im rly sorry.

The chef set his phone on the desk, prepared to either be ghosted or gaslit – two of Collin’s favorite pastimes whenever Greyson had had to cancel their plans during their relationship – and was shocked when the phone buzzed with a text almost immediately. He was almost afraid to look at his boyfriend’s response.

Reed

9:32AM

Oh, baby don’t be sorry!! what time are you off? I’ll pick you up and take you home :) we can do a sick day little date night instead!

Greyson stared at the phone, stunned. He couldn’t help it; he read the message again, then out loud said, “What the fuck?”

Then – Ten Years Ago

“Chef?”

The Executive Chef looked up from his paperwork at Greyson and sighed. “What is it, Abbott?”

“I, um – hh! HTSHH-uh! HGXTSH-ue! Snf. Umb, I just wanted to see if it was okay if I… left a little early today?” Greyson asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His chef raised his eyebrows and put his clipboard down. Oh, no, Greyson thought.

“Leave...early? And leave your clean up and prep to whom, exactly? Me?” The Executive Chef huffed out a laugh. “That’s rich, Abbott. Why the fuck would you need to leave early?”

“I…” Greyson started, but his voice gave out on the single syllable. He attempted to clear his throat. “I just… I really feel like shit? I was hoping I could, like… sleep it off, I guess. I mbean, I wouldn’t want to get anyone else sigck.” Greyson felt a cough bubbling to the surface; he tried to quell it, to no avail. The younger man collapsed into a coughing fit that felt like it lasted a lifetime.

The Chef remained unmoved. “My guys,” he said, placing a hand on his chest as Greyson attempted to compose himself, “don’t get sick, Abbott. And if they do, I don’t fucking hear about it. Understand? Because I really don’t give a shit. If you’re here, you’re here. If you decide to leave early,” he shrugged, uncaring, “then you leave for good. And Abbott, if you try to get a job after walking out of my kitchen, I promise you I will make it impossible. I know you’ve only been here a couple months, but here’s what you need to learn: put your head down and do your fucking job, and you can work anywhere in the world after this. Be a whiny piece of shit who tries to walk out on his shift, and you’ll be working at McDonald’s for the rest of you life. Got it?”

Greyson, too shocked to rebut, just bobbed his head up and down.

“Let me hear you say it,” the Chef said. Greyson cleared his throat.

“Yes, Chef,” he said. The Chef nodded.

“Now get the fuck out of my office.”

Now

“Elijah. Look at this text.”

The GM looked up slowly from the iPad where he was going over reservations for the evening. “...Why?” he asked, taking the phone from Greyson’s hand.

“Just look. Tell mbe that’s ndot weird,” Greyson said, crossing his arms over his chest. Elijah looked down, confused, and read the text. He pinched his eyebrows together just a little, and read it again. “See? Isn’t that weird?”

“Greyson…” Elijah said, handing the phone back. “That’s not weird.”

“Seriously?” Greyson asked, reading the text yet again. “It’s bizarre. He’s ndot even a little mad? C’mon. That’s weird.”

“He’s being sweet,” Elijah explained, slowly, as though he were talking to a toddler. “Did you want him to be mad? Because that’s bizarre.”

“Ndo I don’t want him to be mad. I jus – HTSZHH-ue! HRRSHH!” Greyson wrenched to the side to sneeze, which sent him into a fit of hacking coughs. “I just figured he’d want to, like, yell at mbe or something. For canceling,” Greyson finished, his voice strained against another cough. Elijah didn’t respond, not at first, and instead pressed a hand onto the chef’s forehead.

“I think you’re sicker than we thought, because you’re acting fucking delusional,” he said as Greyson slapped his hand away. “Greyson, normal people don’t yell at each other for getting sick, or having to cancel a plan. That’s, like, really twisted.”

Greyson rolled his eyes. “It’s ndot twisted, Lij you fuckin’ drama queen,” he said, then held up a finger. “Onesec – hh! Hh...hnn.” Greyson sniffled, a let out a little irritated cough. “Lost it.”

“Go back to the kitchen,” Elijah said, pointing towards the swinging doors. “Sit down. Rest. Let your medicine kick in. I don’t want people seeing this -” he gestured to Greyson, as if to allude to his entire being – “when they walk past the restaurant. Alright? Text your boyfriend something nice. Not something unhinged.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Greyson muttered, turning toward the kitchen, his phone still open to the conversation with Reed. He turned towards Elijah again before pushing through the kitchen doors. “I still say that this is the unhinged thing.”

“Go to therapy, Greyson,” Elijah said, not looking up from the iPad. Greyson rolled his eyes, pushed into the kitchen, and regarded his phone once again.

Greyson

10:07AM

thanks, babe. it’s ok, I can take care of myself. it wont be a long day, ill just grab some nyquil omw home and sleep it off. ill reschedule our rezo too, don’t worry about that. im really sorry again for canceling. if I could taste the food id still go lol.

Figuring that sounded at least relatively normal, Greyson hit send. He sat down at his desk once again and placed his head in his hands. No way he’s not pissed, Greyson thought, and he really believed it. In all his years of dating, he’d never met anyone who would respond that way; they’d at least have a snippy remark about the last-minute nature of the cancellation.

Greyson’s phone pinged once again, and he couldn’t help but grab it right away to assess the damage.

Reed

10:08AM

honey, please don’t apologize, seriously. youre sick, it happens, its no biggie :) I already moved the reservation to next week but if we need to ill move it again. james at emp said to tell you feel better btw.

Greyson blinked, dumbstruck. He started typing without thinking.

Greyson

10:10AM

you REALLY arent mad? seriously?

Reed

10:10AM

im really not mad. who gets mad at someone for being sick…? is someone at work mad at you? am I supposed to be mad..? lol

Greyson

10:11AM

I mean its a last minute cancellation. id understand if u were mad.

Reed

10:11AM

welllll….im not. is that ok? haha

Reed

10:15AM

grey…? you believe me, right?

Reed

10:21AM

greyson..?

Then – Seven Years Ago

He was moving through molasses.

Greyson placed a sluggish hand to his own forehead – you can’t check yourself for a fever, dumbass – and blinked painfully. He’d made it to work, he’d made it through the day, and he’d made it back home, against all odds. Now, he was stuck on his couch, unable to even crawl to the bathroom for a thermometer.

It had all compounded on him, was his guess. The endless fourteen hour days for the better part of two years at his thankless sous chef job. The shitty Chicago-suburbs apartment with no heat, where he froze for the few hours a week he slept. The near-constant drinking. Sure, he was only twenty-five, but what was it they said about this industry? It ages you in dog years. Yeah, that was it.

“Hh-! Hh...ITSZHH-ue! HTSHHH-ue!” Greyson sneezed helplessly into the blanket he’d wrapped around himself, and groaned. This was not what he’d imagined when he moved here from Minnesota. He’d thought it would be glamorous, working as a sous chef at a high-end hotel in a big city. He thought he’d have friends, or a girlfriend, or something. Instead, he was trapped on his couch, benched by a sinus infection and seasonal depression that seemed to last the whole year round. Fuck this, Greyson thought. He couldn’t get off the couch, but he could reach his phone; Greyson pulled up Indeed and changed his search parameters.

Actively searching for work. Location: Any.

Now

“Um… Chef? What’s, uh… what’s going on?”

Greyson paused for a moment, a crate of spoiled food held on his shoulder. He turned towards Matt, keen to answer, but instead held the crate tighter and wrenched to the side. “HRTTSHH-uh!”

“Bless you,” Matt said, an automatic reaction. Greyson nodded, turned towards the dumpster, and dumped the food in before beginning the cycle anew: pick up crate. Turn to sneeze. Dump old food. Matt wasn’t sure if he should help his boss, or go inside for backup.

He chose the former, picking a crate filled to the brim with rotten tomatoes off the ground and hoisting it into the trash. “You gonna tell me what’s up?” he asked as the two of them continued gathering and tossing.

Greyson sighed, pulled a hand down his face, and shook his head. “I thingk Reed and I are over,” he said, voice soft and throaty. Matt’s eyebrows shot up.

“What? Seriously? What did you do?” Matt asked, prompting a stuffy laugh from his boss.

“I just don’t thingk it’s going to work,” Greyson said, shrugging. “I… I don’t want to, like, play gambes. I can’t do that again, ndot after Collin.”

“Chef,” Matt said as he gathered and tossed the last milk crate, “what are you talking about? Reed is, like, the most straight-shooting guy I’ve ever met. How is he playing games?”

Greyson, left without anything to occupy his hands, just shrugged and pulled out his phone. He handed it to Matt without explanation, and the sous quickly read through the text conversation Greyson and Reed had going. Matt furrowed his brow.

“I don’t get it,” he said, handing the phone back. “He wants to take care of you, what’s the problem with that?”

“He doesn’t want to take care of me, he wants to have the upper hand,” Greyson explained, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and sitting on the step just outside the back door. “Want one?”

“Sure,” Matt said, sitting beside his boss. “I mean, you shouldn’t be smoking if you’re -”

“HTSHH! Hh-! ITZSHH-ue!” Greyson turned into his elbow, taking a long moment to gather himself before handing Matt his cigarette.

“-sick,” Matt finished. The older man shrugged, and Matt plucked the lighter out of Greyson’s hand to light both of them up, not daring to push his boss any closer to the edge. For a moment, they smoked in silence, only Greyson’s sniffles and coughs interrupting the quiet.

“Boss,” Matt said, finally, “I think you need to talk to Reed.”

“I did,” Greyson said, stubbing out his cigarette. “You saw.”

“No, I mean actually talk to him,” Matt said. The two of them stood, looking at each other – a face-off without the malice. Matt continued. “Not ignore his texts and clean out the walk-in.”

Greyson scoffed. “Matt, just because you have sombe fairy-tale love story doesn’t mbean everyone else does, too. Okay? If it’s over between me and Reed, it’s fine. I’mb better off alone, anywaa – hh! Hh… Hhhii-!” Greyson stood with his elbow poised at his face, stuck in pre-sneeze agony for what seemed like an eternity. While he was incapacitated, Matt took his phone and typed out a message that his boss couldn’t see. Finally, Greyson lowered his arm and sucked in, fruitlessly, through his nose. “The fugck are you doigg?” he asked, snatching his phone back from his sous.

“If you’re not going to talk to Reed,” Matt shrugged, unapologetic, “I will.”

Greyson looked down at his phone, which buzzed twice in his hand. Reed’s face popped up on the screen. Call from: reed <3

Then – Three Years Ago

“HTSHH! Huh! ETZSHH-ue! HRTTSHH-ue!”

“Bless, bless, bless you. Allergies?” Collin asked, not looking up from his phone. Greyson sniffled in vain, and coughed painfully.

“Ndot exactly,” he croaked from the doorway to Collin’s living room. “Baby, do you thingk you could drive mbe to urdent care, actually?”

Collin looked up and slowly raised an eyebrow. “For what?” he asked, obviously annoyed. Greyson swallowed as best he could and placed a hand on his throat.

“I thingk… I mbight have strep. Or bronchitis, or sombething. I, uh… I’ve had a fever for like. A week.” Greyson had to stop to close his eyes and grab onto the door frame, a sordid attempt to keep from hitting the floor like a rotten sack of potatoes. Collin rolled his eyes.

“You’re such a drama queen. You seemed fine when you came over last night.”

“You were asleep whend I came over,” Greyson said, his eyes still closed. “Did you ndot notice that I haven’t been over in like five days?”

Collin shrugged. “I mean, yeah, but I figured you were busy with work. You’re always busy with work,” he said, the venom in his voice making clear that he wanted to fight.

Greyson, physically incapable of fighting at that moment, just slid slowly to the ground and nodded. “Yeah. You’re right,” he said. “Ndow I’m paying the price. Please, baby. Can you please just take me? I… I really don’t feel well.”

It was pathetic. He knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself; he was fairly sure he was moments from passing out. Collin turned and made himself comfier on the couch.

“I’ll call you an uber,” he said, pressing some buttons on his phone. “You barely make time for me, and now you’re asking me to be your chauffeur? Please, Greyson.” He showed his ailing boyfriend the phone. “He’ll be out front in five minutes. Better make your way down.”

“Okay,” Greyson said, pulling himself slowly to his feet. “Thangk you.”

Collin didn’t say a word as Greyson let himself out of the apartment. He made it downstairs, and into the uber, and into the waiting room at urgent care. He made it out by himself, too, with a laundry list of prognoses – strep, sinus infection, walking pneumonia – and a handful of prescriptions. When he texted Collin later to fill him in, his boyfriend didn’t text back.

Greyson fell asleep on his shower floor and awoke to freezing water pounding on him, and a courier pounding on his door. When he toweled off and answered it, chicken soup from the local bodega and a note that read feel better -c sat at his feet. Greyson breathed a sigh of relief; at least he had been forgiven.

Now

Reed had dated plenty of men is his thirty-five years of life, and had found that there were two general categories when it came to sick men: there was the Baby, and there was the Don’t Look at Me.

Greyson though, an enigma since the moment they met, seemed to fall into a third category, a category that was, to Reed, yet undiscovered: the You Hate Me.

Reed was good with the first two categories; the Don’t Look at Me, you left medicine outside their room and texted them funny memes. The Baby, you laid in bed with them and spoon-fed them soup. Easy. Understandable. Truthfully, this was one of his favorite things about men: they were easy to crack. He figured Greyson would likely fall into the Baby category, which was fine by him – there was nothing he’d like more than to look after an ailing Greyson, to be honest. This third category he seemed to embody, though, was not something Reed knew what to do with.

“He didn’t answer when I called him,” Reed said into the phone receiver. “I just want to know what’s going on, I mean, did I say something wrong?”

On the other end of the line, Elijah sighed. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. This is just… it’s just Greyson being Greyson.”

Reed wasn’t about to take this lying down. “Hey, are you guys super busy tonight? I mean, I don’t want to be that boyfriend, but, like, can I come get him? We really need to talk, and if what Matt said is true he probably shouldn’t be, like, working anyway, right?”

While Elijah paused, Reed pulled the phone away from his ear and once again re-read the text Matt had sent from Greyson’s phone: hey reed, it’s matt. grey is sick as hell, so DO NOT take any of the crazy weird shit he says seriously, k? his temperature needs to lower by like 5 degrees before you do this, but u guys need to actually talk. he’s being stupid.

“Please,” Reed heard Elijah’s tinny voice on the other end and put the phone back to his ear. “Please, come and collect him. I’m begging.”

Reed stood from the couch and grabbed his keys. “Give me twenty minutes. I’m on my way.”

Then – Two Years Ago

“Heyyy, baby, cand I buy you a dringk?”

The girl leaned back, her face marked by disgust. “No, thanks. Save your money and get yourself some NyQuil,” she said, disappearing into the crowd. Greyson huffed out a sigh and coughed into his hand – a long, crackling sound that made the other bar patrons inch their chairs away.

“She’s right, you know,” the bartender – Skip, Greyson had learned his name was a few weeks back when he had started coming in every night – said, filling Greyson’s shot glass yet again. “You need to go home.”

“And yet you pour mbe another drink,” Greyson said, knocking back the shot. “The duality of mban. NGTXSH! HTSHH! Huh-! HRRSHH-ue!” Greyson covered his mouth lazily with one hand, wiped it on his pants, hand held the glass up to indicate ‘another’.

“Bless you,” Skip said, not pouring the shot. “Greyson, seriously: go home. You sound fucking awful.”

“Are you cutting mbe off?” Greyson asked, his rheumy eyes meeting Skip’s over the bartop. “Because unless you are, I’mb staying.” He coughed again, into his elbow; the cough was quickly becoming a problem. He’d had a cold two weeks ago; the symptoms had been mild, but the cough had hung around. When he caught whatever-the-fuck this was two days ago, the cough had turned from an annoyance to a pressing issue; he should go home. He should go to the doctor, he should take a day off, he should, he should, he should.

But he wouldn’t. He would stay, and he would drink until he was kicked out, then he’d pass out on the train and not make it home to sleep. He’d go to work at seven AM and stay until midnight and do it all again.

“I’m not kicking you out,” Skip sighed. “I’m just saying… you should take care of yourself.”

Greyson blinked slowly. He could feel his lungs, heavy with fluid, gearing up to cough again; his head, pounding in spite or because of the alcohol; his heart crushed into a million, Collin-sized pieces. Take care of yourself. It felt impossible, when you’d never been shown how.

“This is mbe taking care of myself,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll have another.”

Now

Greyson rested his head on a case of lettuce in the corner of the walk-in. He knew he should be continuing his madness of cleaning, but he’d accidentally sat down on his fifth trip into the refrigerator, and now he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get up again.

Fucking Reed, Greyson thought as he allowed the cold salad box to sate the fever he had burning in his brain. Why can’t he just be up front with me? If you’re mad just say it, don’t fucking torture me.

Perhaps deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous; Matt and Elijah were most likely correct. The simplest answer – that Reed truly was just a good guy – was probably the right one. But he just couldn’t get out of his mind all the times he’d reached out, needed help and asked for it, and been shot down. He certainly couldn’t allow himself to believe that the person he was dating was truly good; he knew he’d never deserve that.

“Greyson?”

Speaking of Reed, that sounded a lot like him – was Greyson hearing things? Had he, in his fever-addled state, conjured a hallucination of his boyfriend to have a fight with? Bizarre, Grey, he thought to himself. That’s really fucking bizarre.

“Grey? Elijah said you were in here but I don’t – oh!”

Either this was a really crazy hallucination, or that really was Reed standing over him, in the walk-in. Greyson blinked hard, then blinked again, and suddenly Reed was on the ground next to him.

“Babe...it’s really cold in here. Do you think we can, um, leave?”

Greyson furrowed his eyebrows together. “Leave… and go where?” he asked, his voice cracking. “I have to… work. What are you doigg heeee...HRTSHH-ue! Huh -! HTSHH! NTSHH! IGXTSH!” Greyson attempted to stifle over and over, until Reed gently took his hand and pulled it away from his face.

“That has to hurt,” Reed said, his voice quiet and calm. “You can just… sneeze, you know. Like, regular.”

“Tryigg ndot to get you,” Greyson croaked, his eyes glazing over once again. “Youbettermov – HRRETSZCHH-ue! ITSZZHH-ue! Fuck – NGTSHHZ-ue!” Greyson sneezed into his lap, then coughed until his lungs felt sore. Reed didn’t move; he came closer and rubbed Greyson’s back.

“Bless you, baby,” Reed said, eventually.

“Thangks. Sorry,” Greyson murmured, pushing his hair out of his face and turning to look at Reed. “Why are you here?” he asked, levity out the window.

Reed let out a little laugh. “Umm, why do you think?” he asked. “You’ve been ignoring me since this morning. I got worried, since Matt said you were super sick – no lie detected, by the way, you sound truly awful –”

“Sorry,” Greyson said again, wiping under his nose. “I kndow, it’s gross.”

“Please, Grey,” Reed said, taking both sides of his boyfriend’s face in his hands and looking him in the eye. “Please. Stop apologizing. It’s okay to be sick. I don’t understand why you think I’m angry at you. I’m not.”

Greyson swallowed, painfully, and gave a little nod. “Okay,” he said, finally.

“Okay,” Reed repeated. “Anyway. I called Elijah. He said to come and collect you.”

At this, Greyson couldn’t help but cough out a laugh. “Collect mbe?” he asked. Reed smiled a little.

“Yeah,” he said. “His words, not mine.”

They both laughed, softly at first, then ramping up to near-hysteria. They only stopped when Greyson started coughing again and couldn’t seem to stop.

“Let’s go get you some water,” Reed said, helping his boyfriend to his shaky feet. Greyson allowed himself to be pulled out of the walk-in, and given a bottle of water that was sitting on his prep station. Greyson drank until the fit subsided, then regarded Reed once again.

“So… you really aren’t mbad?” he asked, rubbing his goosebumped arms up and down. Reed shook his head and shrugged off his windbreaker. He draped it over Greyson’s shoulders.

“I’m really not mad,” he insisted. Greyson nodded, seemingly satiated. Reed sighed through his nose and slipped his arms around the chef.

“Life’s done a number on you, huh?” he asked, quietly enough that it could’ve just been to himself. Greyson huffed out a sad little laugh.

“Like you wouldn’t believe, baby,” he murmured, pressing his hot head into Reed’s hair. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

#whiskeyswriting #snz #sickfic #snzfic #coldfic #snzblr #snez #male cold #male snz #this was a fun one! #whump #h/c #but mostly hurt lol #i know it's a lot of dialogue. my apologies i just love to write dialogue and HATE to write exposition lol #which is Not Good Writing but whatever #this is my horn snz blog not my doctoral thesis lmao

[aloysiavirgata]

(if you are accepting prompts!) what iffffff you wrote a soft gentle little fic in which Scully has a spectacularly unlovely head cold and after some grouching Mulder looks after her? There are so many moments of peril on x files that sometimes it’s nice when the enemy is just a simple rhinovirus, lol.

He doesn’t even attempt to make it himself. Calls ahead to Loeb’s with his order, which he accepts from a stylish young Mexican man whose name tag reads Pierre.

“A sheynem dank,” Mulder says, echoing the grandmother who called Samantha a shaineh maideleh.

Pierre nods. “Bitte, baby,” he says. “De nada.”

***

Mulder clomps up her stairs with Puritan determination. He feels that since he did not cook the food himself he must exert some other effort for it. His soul is at eternal war with itself.

He doesn’t knock; lets himself in with the Home Depot key Scully had made for him around the time that Tooms wanted into her pants for all the wrong reasons. It sticks a little still, even after so many years. He’s rarely had to use it - when aren’t they together?

A hacking noise from her bedroom, something wet being coughed. Spat.

Mulder helps himself to a bowl, a plate, a spoon.

“I’b arbed,” she rasps from down the hall. “I’b a Federal Agent.”

“Don’t shoot,” Mulder calls back, hunting down a napkin. “I am a poor boy from a poor family.” Her mother wears Revlon and his wears Guerlain.

He tips some soup and two of the matzo balls into a bowl, wedges one of the challah rolls next to it. He puts the leftovers in the fridge.

Mulder carries the plate down the hall, the nearly-full bowl sloshing dangerously atop.

He enters Scully’s bedroom. She’s been upgrading over the past couple of years, replacing her IKEA basics with good secondhand finds in cherry and walnut. The candle she’s lit smells like white flowers with thick, creamy petals.

Scully is tucked into bed like an Austen heroine, all delicate pallor and genteel unhappiness. Her nose is pink-tipped and raw, hair in a ponytail. She’s wearing a gray sweatshirt instead of her usual pajamas.

Mulder sets the food down on her nightstand, next to a vase of dried roses and her Yaqui slide holster. A speed loader. There’s a well-framed Monet print over the bed.

Pat Conroy’s Beach Music is open face down on her lap, surrounded by crumpled tissues. She doesn’t look happy to see him, her purple-shadowed eyes narrowing a bit.

“Go away,” she says. Sneezes.

“Brought you some soup,” he says, unnecessarily. Points at it, also unnecessarily.

“Bulder,” she sniffs. “Go hobe. I don’t like being fussed over. I hab a cold, dot Ebola.”

“Too bad,” he says. “I’m going to. Do you have Vick’s Vapor Rub? You really should have Vick’s Vapor Rub.”

She closes her eyes. Pinches the bridge of her nose, centering herself. “It’s dot your fault I’b sick,” she says, looking back over at him after a moment.

“I dragged you into the woods again. You fell down a hole full of corpses! You’ve been in remission for like…twenty minutes.” He jabs the spoon at her.

She rolls her eyes. “You don’t get a cold frob being in the woods. Or frob being chilly. You get a cold frob a virus.”

He feigns outrage. “Excuse me, but are you contradicting noted excellent mother-slash-world-class-epidemiologist Doctor Teena Mulder MD?”

This sends Scully into a flurry of coughing. She swats at him in annoyance. “Ugh,” she says at last. “You see why I can’t hab you here, you’re a lousy durse.”

Mulder takes her hand, pale as a kid glove. He shoves the spoon into it, squeezes her fingers about the handle. “Eat the soup or I’m calling your mom. I’m calling BILL.”

She narrows her eyes again. “You wouldn’t.”

“I think you’re well aware that I’m capable of being overly dramatic when the wind is southerly and the fancy strikes.” He holds the plate before her like an offering to a goddess.

Scully considers him. “You did get us out ob the teabwork sebidar,” she observes. “Techdically.”

“I did,” he agrees.

“You bade be sing,” she adds. Reproachful.

He grins. “The angels all were singing out of tune, And hoarse with having little else to do, Excepting to wind up the sun and moon, Or curb a runaway young star or two.”

Scully looks at the spoon in her hand for the first time, as though wondering how it got there.

“Byron,” she says, a little smile. She picks up the roll, examines it. Peers at the soup. Sneezes again. “Mad, bad, and dangerous to know.”

“Caroline Lamb,”Mulder replies. He doesn’t point out that Caroline Lamb had been Byron’s lover, that she’d sent him a clipping of her pubic hair in the mail. He certainly doesn’t think of the juncture between Scully’s thighs at all, whether it matches the drapes, whether it tastes like kettle corn and Vineyard whitecaps in July. Lobster rolls and saltwater taffy.

He’d meant it, about the sleeping bag. He wishes there had been a sleeping bag and he is so, so grateful there was no sleeping bag.

Scully sniffles again, defeated. “You got be batzo ball soup?”

He thumbs an escaped tendril of hair back from the sweep of her extraordinary cheekbone.

“I did,” he murmurs back. He sets the plate down between them. He peels the roll open, yeasty and fragrant, and dunks it into the golden broth.

He raises it to her mouth.

Scully sucks at it, draws it past her lips. She bites. Chews, swallows. She holds his eyes with hers. She catches an escaped droplet with her tongue.

“Good,” she mumbles. Watches him dip the dry part back into the bowl. “Thank you.”

He feeds her another bite. Her mouth opens like a snapdragon, like an oyster in the tide. She drops her gaze this time. Her guard.

They complete the entire roll this way, and one matzo ball. Silent, slurpy. Scully’s lids droop, her lashes brushing her cheeks.

“Sleepy,” she mumbles, curling onto her side. Her paperback falls to the floor.

Mulder returns the food to the night table. He strokes her hair until she’s out cold, snoring a little. He curls into the bed as well, his nose to hers. He touches her philtrum with his pointer finger. He traces the tender pink whelk of her ear.

They sleep for hours until she coughs awake, gasping, her thin chest heaving. Mulder rubs circles between her scapulae.

“Go hobe,” she says, knees drawn, leaning against his chest. “You deed to sleep.”

He puts his arms around her, drops a kiss on her tangled head. “Okay,” he agrees.

She’s out again in moments. He holds her upright until he drifts off as well.

They sleep until morning. He feeds her soup for breakfast, calls into work with a case of Ebola.

#xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #msr #my fic #sick fics #detour post episode #fluff #inbox #prompt

[whore-era]

under the weather

☁︎ ellie williams x fem!reader ☁︎ fluff ☁︎ summary: in which ellie takes care of her sick girlfriend. ☁︎ a/n: my first ellie fic! let me know how u guys like it, reblogs and comments r much much appreciated! ☁︎ word count: 1,475

“babe! open up!”

“i’m coming, i’m coming,” you muttered, tightening the blanket wrapped around you.

opening the front door, a gust of crisp, frigid wind blew in your face inducing a full-body shiver. stepping inside the foyer of your house, ellie gave you a confused look as she leaned down to greet you with a kiss on your forehead. 

“why’re you still in your pjs? we start patrol in 45 minutes,” she asked. about to answer her question, you let out a deafening sneeze. 

“i know, babe. i’m sorry- i- i woke up late this morning and, you know, i’m still trying to wake up a little bit but i’m feeling a bit-,” you pause to sneeze, “-a bit groggy.”

you use your long sleeve shirt to wipe your nose, and as disgusting as that was, you couldn’t be bothered to care. your head was pounding, your throat was sore, and your nose was all red and runny. it was obvious you’ve seen better days. 

“just give me 10 m-minutes, els. i’ll be dressed for patrol,” you murmured, attempting to reassure ellie with a weak smile. 

you should’ve known she was smarter than that. she took one look at you—still in your pajamas with messy hair and a blanket cocooning your frame—and determined that you wouldn’t be going anywhere; knowing that if you were to step out of the warmth of your home into the freezing, jackson winter, you’d probably pass out. 

“oh, no. you will not be getting dressed, little lady, let alone going to patrol,” she raised a brow at you, and her cold hands made their way to cup your cheeks. the unexpected chill of her palms on your face evoked a wince from you. 

“fuck, baby, you’re burning up,” she cooed at you, “you’re in no shape to be leaving this house today.” 

“then what are we gonna-,” sneeze, “-do?”, you look up at her with glossy eyes. her green orbs soften and she lets out an apprehensive sigh.

“well, i’m gonna go let jesse know that we won’t be going to patrol today,” your brows furrowed in confusion. did she say ‘we’? 

“what do you mean ‘we’?”, you asked, your voice coming out all congested and muffled. 

“uh, yeah. you think i’m gonna let my favorite girl stay here all alone?”, ellie narrowed her eyes, “especially while she’s sick?” 

“els, i can take care of myself just fine,“ you countered, “just have jesse or dina take my place instead. i don’t want you seeing me all ugly and germy and gross.”

she let out one of her award-winning laughs, “you’re still the prettiest girl i’ve ever seen, even if you’re quote-unquote ‘germy and gross’,” “besides, it’d bug me all day knowing i left you alone while you weren’t feeling good.”

“but-“ you began, but before you had time to interject, your girlfriend interrupted you.

“no buts, you know damn well you would do the same for me, baby.” ellie walked over to you, taking your ice-cold hands into hers, squeezing them tenderly to warm them up. “let me take care of you.” 

of course, you couldn’t say no to her. the way she’s just so insistent on taking care of you, even when you’re all snotty-nosed and sneezy. it made your heart swell. 

“m’kay.” you gave in softly looking down at your feet, “i..i just feel bad, y’know? they need you out there.”

ellie’s finger lifted your chin up softly, your eyes meeting with her green ones. “i know, sweet girl. but right now, you need me in here.” she leans down and kisses you briefly on the lips, sending your heart in a frenzy, as all her kisses did.

“why don’t you go in your room and lay back down? yea, baby?” ellie instructed, “i’m gonna go real quick and tell jess the news. i’ll be back in a sec.” 

-

you weren’t sure when you woke up from your short nap, but by the time you did, ellie still hadn’t been back yet. it worried you a bit, and if you weren’t feeling so feeble and faint, you’d definitely be searching for her right now. 

so, there you were, sprawled out on your bed, blankets tangled between your legs every which way. your eyes shut closed, but your body sank into the silence, soothing you.

you hear the front door open and then close. god, if i’m about to be robbed, then this will be their easiest heist yet. you had no energy to even call out who it was. 

“babe? y’awake?”, ellie greets with a knock on your bedroom door. 

“mmm.” you managed to groan in response, you pick your head up and squint your eyes open, seeing that your girlfriend has changed her clothes into something a bit more comfortable—a hoodie with sweats—and that she has a bag in her hand. 

“what’s that?” you question, using your elbows to prop yourself up in bed. ellie walks over to you, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. she opens the bag and inside is a thermos, various snacks, tea bags, medicine, and a DVD. 

“i just thought i’d pick up some things for you. i mean— we’re gonna be here all day. didn’t wanna be unprepared,” she scratched the back of her neck and smiled sheepishly. you wrapped your arms around her tightly, “thank you.” you whispered. 

her arms wrapped around your waist, one of her hands rubbing your back soothingly, “it’s nothing. anything for you, sweet girl.”

as you sat in bed, watching the DVD ellie picked up, ellie took care of everything. 

turns out, maria made a batch of chowder for you after hearing that you were feeling under the weather. she also threw in some tea bags to help soothe the sore throat. ellie made sure you were bundled up like a baby, and had no complaints tending to you or cleaning up after your messes. 

now your head laid on her lap, both of you intent on the movie playing in front of you. you turned your head, admiring the way ellie’s eyes were so focused and how perfectly her freckles sprinkled her face. she looked down at you, catching you red-handed.

“what?” she asked, shakiness in her voice.

“nothing.” you murmured, your eyes still studying her. 

“y’sure?”

“yea,” you smiled, “i just like looking at you.” 

hues of pink faded onto her cheekbones and across her speckled nose, “well— stop.” 

“why?” 

ellie let out a nervous laugh, which was new to you. “because you’re making me nervous.” 

you smiled and rolled your eyes, “fine, fine.” but now ellie couldn’t stop looking at your face. she intently studied every detail; the wisps of your eyelashes, the curves of your nose, the way the soft glow of the TV illuminated your face, the shape of your lips. it was like she was seeing you for the first time all over again. falling in love with you all over again. 

ellie didn't care if your hair was all over the place or if your nose was red from rubbing it all day. she didn't give a fuck if you were dressed down, or if you sounded 'weird'. even in your sickest state, she still thought you were the most gorgeous girl this universe had to offer.

she bent her head down, planting yet another warm kiss on your lips. 

“you’ve got to stop kissing me before you get sick, silly goose.” you contended, eliciting a laugh from her. 

“if i were to get sick for every time i kissed you, put me in the hospital,” ellie joked. you snorted and rolled your eyes, “ha ha, nice one.” 

you got up, and sat against the headboard of your bed next to her. “seriously though, els. thank you for doing all of this for me,” you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “no one’s really ever done this for me before.” you looked down at your hands, beginning to feel all shy in front of her now. it was a habit, avoiding eye contact with ellie everytime you were opening up to her. it made you feel vulnerable and anxious. 

“hey, look at me,” she lifts your chin up, your eyes meeting hers again, “what’d i tell you?” 

ellie’s eyes studied yours, “i’ll always take care of you. as long as you’re with me, i’ll be the one taking care of you.” no doubt was in her voice. 

“‘kay, sweet girl?”, she asked, and you nodded. ellie smiled at you and her lips pressed against your cheek. 

“i love you.” your heart warmed up and your stomach erupted with butterflies. it always took you by surprise how much of an effect ellie had on your body. 

“i love you, ellie.” 

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #the last of us #the last of us ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fluff

[lilacfiresoul]

needle, april 3 -- @jegulus-microfic -- 669 words

content warnings for talk and depictions of sickness (reg has hay fever), very very brief mention of regulus' parents (gross), and talk of vaccines, and needles! there is no actual description of either vaccines or needles, but it's talked about by james and reg.

this one is another cute one idk what's wrong with me, i can't stop writing fluff aaa

----

There’s something ironic about the fact that every time springtime rolls around, Regulus gets ill. It’s like clockwork, every year.

Once the usually drab English sky starts becoming less grey and a little bit more blue; once the flowers start to push up from the soil and unfurl their petals in the sunlight; once baby lambs start being born in the farmer’s fields; once the clouds get fluffy, the days longer, nights shorter—there’s an inevitability that Regulus will get sick.

James is no longer taken by surprise by it anymore. Living with Regulus for three summers already, he’s more than accustomed to help him deal with his hay fever. He’s used to seeing Regulus with red and puffy eyes, nose blocked and sneezing into tissues before he can finish his sentence.

Usually he can cope pretty well, but this year seems to be the worst. With the pollen levels being high, Regulus is staying indoors, lying in bed until around midday, when he finally drags himself out of his nest with a headache and itchy eyes.

“It’s a pity that there isn’t a vaccine to help you cope with this,” James comments off-handedly. It’s one in the afternoon, and the two of them are cuddling in their bed, binge-watching a new Netflix series.

Regulus shakes his head, the ends of his hair brushing lightly against James’ jaw. “I’m glad there’s not.”

“What? Why? Are you afraid of needles, or something?”

On the screen, the main character screams and starts fighting the approaching zombies. Regulus doesn’t reply, gaze fixed determinedly on the TV show.

James’ stomach drops, and he reaches over the pause the show. “Wait, are you?”

“Kind of,” Regulus admits. “My mother used to force me and Sirius to get the flu jabs back in school."

At the mention of Regulus' parents, James frowns. "I'm sorry, Reg."

Regulus shrugs. "It's fine. It was one of the good things she did for me, I guess, but it didn’t mean I didn’t cry. Sirius was never afraid of them.”

“Yeah, with the amount of tattoos he has, I wouldn’t think so,” James agrees, and Regulus chuckles.

“He wasn’t allowed to, but he used to—”

Suddenly, Regulus lunges for the box of tissues, able to catch his sneeze just in time. The tissue, quickly scrunched up into a ball, is tossed towards the other end of the bed, joining its equally as screwed up friends.

Sniffing, Regulus continues, “He used to sneak out of class to sit with me whilst I had it done. I could tell the nurse hated it, but she never said anything because it meant I took the jab. He would— Wait, James, this is silly, promise you won’t laugh.”

When James glances down at him, he notices Regulus is doing that thing he does when he’s embarrassed or stressed, clenching and unclenching his fists, digging his nails into the palm of his hand.

“Why would I laugh? I bet it’s not silly,” James tells him, meaning every word. “My dad’s afraid of needles, you know. Used to absolutely refuse whenever he had to get his flu jabs topped up. I think he still does, and he has to get them with my mum. My mum holds his hand—”

“Sirius used to do that with me!” Regulus cuts him off, seeming less embarrassed now because James’ parents, who are old and have grey hairs, and who seem very much still in love, do it too. There’s even a smile on his face which James can’t help returning.

Leaning closer, James takes Regulus’ hand, pressing his lips to his skin, murmuring, “Want me to hold yours if there ever is a hay fever jab?”

“No,” Regulus says, looking away to hide his blush.

There’s a beat.

And then, Regulus says sheepishly, “Actually, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

#frost's microfics #frost writing fluff again?? someone call the doctor this isn't me #bring back frost's angst (i swear i'm writing angst again soon) #jegulus fic #jegulus microfic #james x regulus #regulus arcturus black #james fleamont potter #regulus x james #james potter x regulus black

[wetsnifflesneeze]

F/F STORY

Girlfriends! Cold! Caretaking! That sums it up.

Btw, I’m really not a writer. I don’t even have a title for this.

……………………………………………………………………….

Although she did have allergies she could tell by the afternoon that this was more serious, her temples and head were starting to ache and she just felt exhausted. So it was a cold. I can handle it, no big deal she thought. Although she did feel slightly deflated about it since she was visiting her girlfriend tonight. It felt overdramatic to cancel because of a cold. As the day went on the minor headache got worse until just about everything was hurting. It was definitely too late to cancel now, she was already on the way to Harper’s house. She sighed, walking through the crisp air wishing she could be feeling better. She blows her nose before texting Harper she’s outside, hoping she might be able to hide her cold for at least the first while.

Harper opens the door with a big smile, kisses her, and pulls her inside. “Come in love, it’s freezing out”

“Yeah, it is” Bella agreed, she cringed slightly at her voice still sounding a bit congested despite the fact she’d just blown her nose. The warm air in Harper’s house was already making her irritated nose tickle. “Huh.. hh.. NNgTSSHHHOO” an absolutely futile attempt at stifling, she was still in Harper’s embrace but managed to turn away slightly and sneeze towards her shoulder. She had to sniffle deeply afterwards, her nose as congested as ever already.

“Awww bless you baby, did you catch a cold?”

“Yeah.. *Sniffle* it was fine this morning but, I really don’t feel good now.. m’sorry I sneezed on you” she added shyly, blushing a bit. She sniffled miserably, quickly realising there was no use in trying to hide how she felt. Her cold was far too obvious already.

Harper gently cupped her cheeks in her hands as well as feeling her forehead, she pouted and made a sympathetic noise. “Oh darling, you should have told me you weren’t feeling well” she says, her voice laden with sympathy but Bella in her self conscious state somehow misinterpreted it.

“Uhm yeah sorry I probably shouldn’t have come over *sniff*”

“No silly, I don’t mean like that. I’m a pharmacist I could’ve just grabbed you some medicine before I left work. I always want you to come over.”

“Oh! right” Bella smiled dumbly “I honestly didn’t even think of that.”

Harper knew Bella came from a less than empathetic family so it did make some sense to her why Bella would’ve tried to pretend she was fine.

“Well, we’re here now and I do have some paracetamol we can use for your fever. Just make yourself comfy on the couch okay darling, I’ll be right back”

“Okay *sniffle* umm Harper could we light the fire? I feel really cold.”

“Of course we can, and by WE I just mean me, I don’t want you to do anything except rest.”

Bella flopped down onto the couch straight away, instantly sinking into the comfort. She felt so weak but she knew she could just rest now and her girlfriend would take care of her.

Harper took in the sight of her girlfriend curled up on the couch. She was pale and still shivering a little bit. Her caretaking instincts took over immediately. Tonight was no longer for drinking wine together and doing other things she had planned. Bella’s breath gets shaky and she takes hurriedly takes out a tissue from her pocket, which clearly had been used too many times already, she held it all balled up to her nose and it did nothing to contain the “hehTSSSSHOOO!” that tumbled out. Harper just smiled fondly, she somehow looked incredibly cute.

“Bless you sweetheart, here I got you some tissues.” She takes one out of the box and hands it to the younger girl.

Bella took the tissue and blew her nose as politely as she could manage before putting the tissue back beside her on the couch. “Sorry, disgusting.” She said, using as few words possible.

“Don’t apologise sweetheart, and you’re not being disgusting at all, not in the slightest.” She gently rubbed the sick girls back in reassurance. “Here, I brought you something more comfortable to wear” she produced a hoodie, very thick and warm. It seemed almost new. “Oh, thanks” Bella slowly got up into a sitting position wincing as she did so. If she had any energy she would’ve argued that the hoodie was too nice just for her to get her snot and germs all over it. But she submissively allowed Harper to help her put it on. Her girlfriend covered her over with a blanket afterward.

“Okay that’s better. Poor baby, I know everything hurts right now. Here, take these painkillers they should help you in a bit. I’m sorry it’s not going to be instant but just hang on for a while okay, try to get some sleep” she gently stokes her face and kisses her forehead and lips. “Kay.” The weak monosyllabic response told Harper everything she needed to know about how the sick girl was feeling. She fell asleep feeling the older woman’s hands slowly massaging her head where it hurt, and her shoulders and back.

While Bella slept Harper ordered them some food including her usual favourite but just some chicken ramen for Bella. Much blander than what she usually preferred to eat but this wasn’t a usual night.

Bella woke up a couple hours later after Harper shifted on the couch to get their food. She was a bit disoriented at first, they had been dating for a few months but she wasn’t particularly used to waking up from a deep sleep on this couch. She shivered and whined a bit. Everything was still hurting. Almost instantly after waking up her nose started running again, she grabbed a tissue before it got down to her lips, as soon as the tissue touched her nose it started to tickle “TSSSHHHH”

She was just about to remove the tissue from her face when she glanced up as Harper got back with their food. “Hi sleepyhead” she smiled at her indulgently.

“Hey” Bella replied quietly. Still sounding sleepy and dazed.

“How was your nap?” Harper asked as she sat down on the couch and guided Bella into her lap.

“Good, I really needed that”

“Yeah? Are you feeling a little better?” Harper inquired, one eyebrow slightly raised.

“Honestly no” Bella shook her head. She shivered a little, proving she still had a fever.

“Poor little thing, this cold seems pretty nasty huh?”

“AIIISSSSHHHOO… Mhmm” Bella equally agreed and moaned at the same time.

“I’m so sorry love, I thought you’d feel better after a little nap.”

“KSSTTTTTCCIEW… ugh… nDot your fault.” Bella replied, kind of unsure what to say. She really wasn’t used to anyone feeling sorry for her. Her voice sounding so deeply congested it was almost hard to understand what she was saying. She sniffled and sniffled again, and again.

Harper knew she was self conscious about blowing her nose in front of her so she didn’t push it. Instead she kissed her neck and soothingly rubbed her back. Bella nestled her head in the spot between Harper's neck and chest and sniffled again.

“How do you feel about chicken ramen, do you like it?”

“I do…” Bella’s voice trailed off.

“But... you’re not hungry, right?” Harper guessed.

Bella quietly raised her arm to try sneezing into the elbow, her head ducking down towards Harper’s lap “hehTSHHHCHEW *gasps* HahTTScchiew… TTTCHIEW”

“nDo, nDot hungry” *SNNNF* “ugh” Bella sighed clearly frustrated that she had to blow her nose.

“That’s okay darling, I thought as much. Bless you” she kissed her cheek. “It would be great if you could just eat a tiny bit, a few spoons. I don’t like the idea of giving you more medicine on an empty stomach. Please? For me?”

Bella just nodded her head, smart enough to know it would be useless trying to argue with Dani about this - as much as she wanted to. Maybe she was acting a bit like a brat but she couldn’t help it.

“Good girl, and then we’ll go to bed where you can get some proper rest.” They got into bed shortly afterward. Harper was naked. She guided Bella, wearing just the hoodie now, to rest on top of her. Bella sighed, contentedly this time. It felt good feeling her girlfriend’s soft skin, feeling her warmth, unfortunately she couldn’t smell her perfume right now but she knew she smelt amazing, she always did. Bella felt like an absolute mess in comparison.

“Sorry I’m not fun tonight” she said, as a way of trying to apologise for well, everything about her current state.

Harper’s soft sigh followed by “Baby, I don’t expect you to be fun all of the time.” Soothed her a bit. She continued “I know this isn’t how we normally spend our nights together, but I really love being able to take care of you like this.” She gently slipped a hand down to Bella’s lower back and gently rubbed it. Kissing her again on the forehead.

Bella sniffled, her nose tickled and she felt a sneeze coming but with Harper’s arms were wrapped tightly around her it was hard to move. She tried to sit up, but Harper didn’t let go. “What’s wrong love, you not comfy?” She asked

“I n’deed to sneeze..”

“It’s okay baby, you can sneeze on me”

“AhTISSHIEW”

“Good girl” Harper praised her, feeling her girlfriend’s warm breath against her chest as a tickly sneeze exploded out.

“HITCCSHHIEW”

“Bleeesss you, darling”

Harper praised her again with that sultry voice. That combined with the way her hand was placed on her lower back honestly would’ve turned her sick girlfriend on had she not felt like she’d been hit by a bus. She could, however, still appreciate the attention the older woman was showering her with and it did feel good.

“HAAIIIPPPPSHHTTTTIEW! ugh *SNRF* fuck”

Harper instinctively knew Bella needed a tissue, it was a particularly messy sneeze “It’s okay my baby, I got you” She pulled a couple tissues from the box and cleaned up her girlfriend’s upper lip. Before asking ”Will you blow for me?”

Bella didn’t say anything but obediently gave a hearty blow into the tissue being held around her nose.

“There we go, that’s a bit better. My poor sneezy baby”

“Love you.” Bella mumbled softly, still exhausted.

“I’m so in love with you, Bella”

Shortly after they both drifted off to sleep.

#snzbian #snzfucker #coldfucker #snz kink #cold sneezes #snzblr

[goldenempyrean]

Too Late For A Booty-Call?

❥ Valentines Drabbles: Day 10

❥ Pairing: Natasha x Sick Reader

❥ Wordcount: 770

[ Previous || Next ] AN: this is totally unedited, excuse mistakes :)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

Nat hadn’t heard from you all day. Every so often she’d look over to her phone, to her unanswered texts just waiting for a response. But as the hours ticked by, her phone was silent. So when the screen lit up and her ring tone played she was sure to answered it hastily.

Only what came wasn’t the cheery, happy sound of your voice. Just… silence? Silence broken up by the occasional muffle of the sound of fabric rubbing together.

“Y/N?” Nat repeated your name to no response, she was about to again when the call declined from your side of your phone. Natasha stared down at her phone in confusion. She sat there for several moments before sighing to herself as she shoved her phone in her back pocket.

Nat knew she wouldn’t be able to put her mind at rest until she saw you. So that’s what she did, jumped in her car and headed straight towards your apartment.

She had her own set of keys so at least she didn’t need to worry about how to let herself in. She knocked first of course but there was no answer. And Nat soon found out why.

She let herself in and made her way to the living room. And her little heart sank as she saw you. You were laying on the sofa, wearing a onesie, with a thin blanket draped over you.

Your hair hung loose in messy threads while your skin held a crimson red tinge to its colour. You definitely didn’t look well.

Kneeling down infront of the sofa, Nat carefully ran her finger down your cheek, slowly lulling you from your slumber, “Y/N? Honey, wake up baby.”

“Natty?” Your voice was hoarse yet thick with congestion, “What are you doing here?”

“You called me? I’ve been texting all day and you’re not one to not respond immediately so I got a little worried. Is it too late to hope this was for a booty call?” Nat chuckled as she came to sit beside you, cupping her hand on the back of your neck as she checked for a fever.

You sniffled thickly as you sank into her touch before reaching back into your pocket to grab your phone, “I think I might’ve butt dialled you by accident, sorry darling.”

“Thats alright my love, Im still glad you called me either way.” Nat smiled sweetly, leaning forward as she gently tucked the fallen strands of hair back behind your ears, “I guess this is why I haven’t heard from you all day?” She said, looking down to the small mound of tissues that had covered the coffee table.

“I think I’ve got that bug going round.” You sighed, coughing into your elbow lightly afterward, “I didn’t mean to ignore your texts, I’m sorry.”

Nat shook her head, dismissing your apology, “Dont worry about it sweetheart, you’re sick. I’m just glad you’ve been resting,” She smiled as she leant over to kiss your feverish cheek, “Now you’re going to let me take care of you, okay?”

You nodded and shuffled across the sofa to come to press your body against her, desperate for her warmth. The thin blanket you had draped over you was doing very little to keep you warm as you shivered helplessly. Nat saw this and tapped her shoulder, signalling for you to rest your tired head. You did as she wanted, letting your tired head fall against her.

You breathed deeply, longing to smell her Nat’s familiar cherry perfume but even if you wanted too, you couldn’t smell anything through your stuffy nose. Infact all the action served to do was irritate your tingling sinuses resulting in you having to quickly burry your face into your blanket as you sneezed loudly.

“H’eptshhiew! Heh-Hh’KSshhiew!”

Nat’s face shifted into a sympathetic pout as she sniffled, rubbing the back of your wrist against your nose, “Bless you sweetheart, do you have any tissues left or do I need to go and get you some more?”

“I have some left.” You answered and leant down to pick up the box from the floor, setting it in your lap as you took a handful

You sniffled and swiped at your running nose with the tissues. As you did so, Natasha let her hand run down your back, rubbing soft circles down your spine and your lips curled into a small smile as Nat gently guided you so that your head came to rest in her lap as you lead down on the sofa, “You just sleep tight princess, okay? I’ll be right here the whole time.”

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#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x sick!reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff sickfic #natasha romanoff comfort #natasha romanoff whump #natasha romanoff #blackwidow x reader #blackwidow sickfic #black widow sickfic #sickfic #marvel #marvel sickfic #mcu #avengers #avengers sickfic #fluff #comfort #whump

[aalyssah]

I’m Not Sick

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff X Reader

Word Count: 609

Warnings: Fluff!

Summary: Wanda takes care of you when your sick.

A/N: Hope You Enjoy!

Wanda was out on a mission and you just woke up with a runny nose. You didn't think of anything so you got up to start your day. You showered and went downstairs to the kitchen.

You wanted to make breakfast for the avengers as a thank you for saving the world but, you didn't feel like you had the energy. So, you went back upstairs and sat on the bed and fell asleep.

Wanda just got off the quinjet and entered the Tower and made her way upstairs to say 'Hi' to her girlfriend. She opened the door and saw you still sleep. You don't usually sleep in this late. "Lyubov (Love) wake up I'm home" You mumbled "Hi baby" you said groggily as you woke up.

Wanda finally got a good look at you and saw how you were sweating even though you weren't under the blanket. You let out a nasty cough "I missed you" you said as you tried to hug her. "Uh-huh why are you sweating and coughing? Are you sick?" She said as she backed up "Babe, I'm not sick, I'm fine come cuddle." You made grabby hands.

"Hold on, I'll be back." Wanda then left to get a thermometer. She came back "Come here honey." She checked your temperature and was shocked when it said '100.4' She let out a gasp "Malysh!(baby!) you have a high fever!"

"I'm ok Babe I'm not sick I-" you were cut off "Y/n you're sick and I'm going to take care of you stop arguing with me." You knew she was right, so you stayed silent. "But what if you get sick?" you asked "Look I care for your health more than mine but, the good thing it's just a common cold." She grabbed her car keys in the dresser. "I'll be back."

30 minutes

It's been 30 minutes and Wanda comes through the door with a bag full of drinks, chicken noodle soup, your favorite candy and more. "Awe babe you didn't have too." you said as you sneezed. "Drink some water and I'll make you soup. It will help your throat."

When Wanda was done making the soup she carefully fed it to you "Babe I can eat myself" you assured her "No I'm taking care of you. Open up." She even washed you. She would take 'No' for an answer. She took care of you like you were her child. To say you might be into ddlg wasn't a lie. You were grateful to have such a caring girlfriend like her.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You woke up to feeling normal. No headache, Your throat felt much better than before, Nose isn't runny or stuffed, you felt just fine. Good morning baby!" You said happily. Then Wanda woke up with a nasty cough. "Morning Moya Lyubov." (My Love)

"Oh no Wanda I told you, you would get sick." You said getting up to get the thermometer. " Lyubov.

"I'm not sick" You gave her a side glare. "Ok ok maybe I do feel a little bad." You checked her temperature and said "Yep common cold and now it's my turn to take care of you. I'll go make soup and get you water." Wanda couldn't help but let out a chuckle because you were acting like her.

You took care of her like she did you and y'all were both better. "Mylash let's not get sick ever again." She laughed. "Yeah what if we're both sick? Who would gonna take care of us?" You joked. "Nat"

Wanda said, "Then she will get sick." Yall kept joking and "Love you Wanda" "Love you too Y/n,"

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff angst #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximilf #wanda x fem!reader #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda smut #wanda fluff #wanda fanfic

[greetings-and-salutations]

“24-Hour Bug”

Jonathan Byers x Reader

Day 11 of the Stranger Things Summer Write-a-Thon!!!

Masterlist

(Gif not mine)

Requested? No

Summary: Date plans change when (Y/n)’s too sick to get out of bed, but when her cancellation phone call leaves much to be desired, Jonathan goes over to her place, upset with her for flaking out on him. That is, until he realizes she’s got a fever and the sniffles…

Warnings: starred out swear words, sickness, Jonathan being stupid

Pairing: Jonathan Byers x Fem!Reader

Jonathan was a tad annoyed; he wasn’t going to lie. He’d put a lot of thought into this date. And for (Y/n) to cancel so suddenly, and with little to no explanation? He figured he had the right to be p*ssed. More so, he figured he had the right to let her know just how much…

“(Y/n)! I’m coming in!”

For some, Jonathan showing up randomly to a girl’s house in the middle of the day uninvited would be frowned upon. But, as her boyfriend of two years, he’d been given a key a while ago, and what was it for if not barging into her bedroom after a concerning cancellation call.

“I wanted to talk about…” He trailed off, suddenly realizing why she’d sounded so weird on the phone, and feeling immensely guilty for the outlandish conclusions he’d jumped to.

“Jonathan?” (Y/n) mumbled sleepily from under dozens of blankets, her nightstand covered in tissues and various medicine bottles. In short, she looked awful. The boy crossed the room quickly, worry overtaking his face, as he dropped to his knees at her bedside, a hand coming up to carefully flick some hair from her face.

“Hey, baby… how you feeling?” He asked, flipping his hand over to feel her forehead for a fever, his frown deepening at the realization that her skin was, in fact, considerably hot. Her eyebrows were scrunched up in confusion when he removed his hand.

“Did I forget to call you?” She asked, clearly extremely out of it. Jonathan frowned at the thought.

“No. No, you did. I was just worried.” He assured, sitting down next to her on the bed, cautious to avoid jostling the sick girl too much. He was a little more than worried, but figured it would be better to bother her with his irrational fear of her leaving him when she wasn’t half asleep and burning up. Jonathan’s fingers grazed her cheek lovingly, as he spoke up again. “Do you know what it is?” He asked, hoping it wasn’t something too bad. (Y/n) just shrugged her shoulders, as best she could from under the mountain of blankets.

“Some 24-hour bug. Keith was sick at work yesterday. I think I got it from him.” She explained tiredly, before reaching towards her nightstand for the tissue box. Jonathan grabbed it for her and placed it lightly on her lap.

“What a douche.” He said with a playfully angry expression, that earned a soft giggle from his girlfriend, before she sneezed loudly into a Kleenex. Jonathan frowned a little, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly.

“You should go. I don’t wanna get you sick.” She began, but he just waved off her worries.

“I’ll be fine. Besides, you need someone to stay here and take care of you.” He ruffled her hair, as he got to his feet. But (Y/n)‘s frown deepened.

“Jonathan-“ She tried to argue, but the boy wasn’t having it. He’d spent the whole morning thinking up terrible reasons as to why she’d cancelled their plans, when, in reality, she was here, feeling sick and miserable. The least he could do to make up for being a crappy boyfriend for the first half of the day, was by being a great one for the last. Besides, technically speaking, his plans for the day were to spend it with (Y/n), which is exactly what he would be doing… more or less.

“Shh, don’t even worry about it. You eaten anything yet today?” He asked, as he took off his jacket and tossed it on her desk chair, a clear indication that he wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.

“No…” She mumbled through another tissue. Jonathan kneeled next to her once again, running his thumb across her blanket-covered knee in a soothing back and forth motion.

“How about I go make you some chicken noodle soup and then, after we’ve got some food in you, we can cuddle and take a nap, what do you say?” He asked, (Y/n)’s little smile not going unnoticed by the boy, as she finally nodded her head slowly.

“That sounds nice…” She said, causing Jonathan to grin down at her, before giving her knee a final squeeze and getting to his feet.

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” He promised, making it all the way out her bedroom before turning back around to poke his head around the door frame.

“Hey, Baby… I love you.” He watched her grin widen at his words and felt his heart flutter when she responded.

“I love you too.”

True to her word, when the 24-hours were up, (Y/n) (Y/l/n) was good as new, her bug having been exactly what she’d thought it was, and, while miserable, short living.

Jonathan Byers, however, spent the 24-hours after her recovery sneezing and with a massive headache of his own…

Tag lists are open!!!

Tags: @electriclcvewp @kaqua @m-rae23 @yellenabelovaa @peachycupotea

#Stranger Things Summer Write-a-Thon #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #jonathan stranger things #jonathan byers fluff #jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers fic #jonathan byers

[jomiddlemarch]

gingerbread

6. There was the lightest rap on the door, which meant Anne could ignore it if she wanted to doze or was too fatigued to visit with whoever it was on the other side, but as weak and worn out as she felt, she was beginning to be bored and missed the world that wasn’t bounded by the four walls of her bedroom in Ingleside, for all that she had a view into the garden.

“Come in,” she said, making an effort to sit up and failing, until Gilbert hurried over and plumped the pillows behind her, his strong arm gentle around her ribs as he helped her up, dropping the briefest kiss on her cheek before he smoothed back her loosened hair and let her go.

“We’ve brought you something good, Mother!” Jem announced. He had such a look of Gilbert about him, sturdily built, his expression always open and frank, his little jaw square as his father’s.

“Yes, something very good,” Walter piped, the very sounding much like Sandy McPherson’s verra. He was slighter than Jem and she could see he was working hard to hold up his end of the tray they’d carried in. “Papa says it’s good for you—”

“Father,” Jem corrected, quite determined to be the big boy of the family, but so cheerful and stalwart that Walter was clearly untroubled by it.

“Father said so and he’s a man of since, Susan says, so he knows,” Walter went on.

“Science,” Jem said. “That means he’s a doctor, he knows all about people’s insides and what they need to get better and strong. Even if they’re very sick after having a baby.”

“I’m not very sick,” Anne said. “It’s just taking a little while for me to get my strength back and Susan is helping so much with the new baby and Miss Cornelia with the twins.”

“Nan cried for an hour after Miss Cornelia said she had to eat all her porridge,” Jem announced. Gilbert caught her eye and nodded in agreement, raising an eyebrow. “She didn’t finish it though and Miss Cornelia said she’d never seen the like and then Di asked whether angels could have mustaches and they forgot all about the porridge.”

“I put in the garden. I thought it might be good for a fairy,” Walter said.

“A fairy wouldn’t eat porridge, Walter,” Jem said.

“You never know,” Gilbert interrupted. “Shall we give Mother the treat you worked so hard on?”

“It was mostly you, Papa,” Jem said, forgetting to call Gil Father, which made Anne smile.

“It’s sweets and Papa let me put in the ginger,” Walter said. “I sneezed but it most all went in.”

“I mixed up all the flour and sugar and m’lasses,” Jem said. “It was hard work, it seemed as if it didn’t want to be all stirred together, but it must be, otherwise it would be ruined. It was lumpy for a while, then Papa fixed that too.”

“I think I know what it must be,” Anne said, lifting her hand to beckon the boys closer. They were old enough they wouldn’t clamber onto the bed the way the twins did. She could probably invite them up to give them a cuddle after she’d eaten, one on each side nestled in, Walter sure to lay his head against her breast, Jem more reluctant to leave, though he’d refuse to say why.

“You do? Are you a witch?” Jem asked. “Milton Derry says witches have red hair and queer powers like owls seeing in the dark, and they’re not all bad, he says.”

“No, I’m not a witch,” Anne said, glancing at Walter. “I’m not a fairy either. I just know Papa very well, so it must be the Blythe gingerbread. That’s his specialty.”

“I thought he liked to fix people’s hearts the best, that was his specially,” Jem said.

“He does,” Anne said. She looked up at Gilbert and held his eyes for a moment. He smiled and she saw how it lightened the fatigue in his face, how he looked like the boy she’d once known and fretted over. “Sometimes he uses his stethoscope and sometimes medicine in big brown bottles and sometimes he makes the Blythe gingerbread. And now you’ll be able to as well.”

“We tried it,” Walter admitted. “It’s good, but a little spicy.”

“That’s how it works,” Jem said. “The spiciness is how it fixes you, makes you all warm inside. That’s zactly what Mama—what Mother needs, because otherwise why would she have to stay in bed under her blankets all day long?”

“Let me have some and we’ll see how much better it makes me feel,” Anne said.

“Don’t feel you have to finish it,” Gilbert said. “Just take as much as you like.”

“The boys will help me, won’t you?” Anne said. “Come up here with Mother and let’s have some of this lovely gingerbread and then you may play in the garden for a bit while Papa stays here with me and helps fix my heart some more.”

#anne of green gables #anne of ingleside #shirbert #anne/gilbert #married life #gingerbread #baking as a love language #kidfic #jem blythe #walter blythe #post-shirley childbirth #the blythe twins giving Miss Cornelia a run for her money #fluff #romance #fruitloopsforlife #prompt fill is complete! #happy new year #the gif was the best I could do under the circumstances #aogg

[kpopsickies]

Because I Care

Sickie: Vernon

Caretaker: Seungkwan 

{thanks to my lovely editior, you know who you are (= }

~appx 2020~ 

Seungkwan p.o.v

I had noticed that Vernon had seemed off all day. And if I didn't know any better I'd think he was avoiding me. This morning when I woke up he was already out of our room. Which never happens. During schedules he was quiet, even more so than usual, and he was often unseen when we weren't filming. And after filming when I asked him if he wanted to go out to eat with me, he quickly turned me down and left the room without even looking back at me. I began thinking about what I could have possibly done that made him this mad at me. 

That night when the group got back to the dorms I quickly followed Vernon, he went straight to the bathroom. I stood outside the door waiting for him to come out. That was when I heard something coming from the bathroom. I pressed my ear to the door and realized the sound was sneezing. I grew concerned. I knew Vernon had allergies because he'd mentioned it one time, but I didn't think it'd be this bad. He sounded like he was in pain. I tentatively knocked on the door. "One sec" he called, his voice was stuffed up. "Vernon, it's me. Hon let me in" I knocked again. It goes quiet on the other side of the door, "Baby?" I said I knocked again. "You okay?" I asked, hearing another sneeze. I heard him cough, it sounded itchy. "Yeah" 

"Please let me in. Whatever it is I did I'm sorry" he went silent, then the lock clicked. He opened the door. I tried not to totally freeze in shock when I saw him. I put my hand on his cheek, "oh baby." He sniffled, "Kwan, you didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry for a-hh-hhtChhUh- hh-tchHuUh, *snf* I'm sorry for avoiding you." 

"Nonnie, why didn't you tell me you didn't feel good?" 

"I feel fine" he turned away and coughed. 

Vernon p.o.v 

I felt bad for avoiding Seungkwan, especially how sad he looked after I turned down his dinner offer. Once I got back to the dorms I quickly ran into the bathroom. It was rare, but every once in a while my allergies would get so bad they made me feel sick. My whole face itched, my eyes were swollen, it was hard to breathe, my throat was itchy and because I had spent so much time today holding back and stifling sneezes it seemed to have snowballed. Now it felt like I couldn't stop.

When I was in the bathroom I heard a knock on the door. I didn't want to let the members know about how much I was struggling so I tried to make my voice sound as natural as I possibly could. I was shocked to hear Seungkwan on the other side. He seemed worried, I guessed he heard me sneezing. 

I felt guilty when he told me he was sorry. I quickly opened the door. He stared at me and gently touched my face. I felt a wave of guilt hit me when I saw how concerned he looked. I apologized as quickly as possible. He shook his head, "Nonnie why didn't you tell me you didn't feel good." I tried to hide my blush at his nickname, "I feel fine" I coughed after. He shook his head again, "Vernon, what's going on? Have you been sick all day?" I shook my head, I avoided his eyes. "Vernon, look at me please" I glanced back to his eyes, I saw nothing but care and love. "I'm sorry for avoiding you. But I'm not sick. It's my allergies" 

"I didn't know they were this bad" he brushed an allergic tear off my cheek. "Uh.. I usually try to hide in the studio when they get this bad. I couldn't today, because of our schedule" I sniffled, "Nonie, why didn't you say anything? I could have done something." He looked so genuine and sincere. "I didn't want to bother you" he shook his head, "are you kidding me? You? Bother me? Hon, you could never bother me. I will always take care of you. No matter what." I hugged him, and kissed his forehead. "Thank you" 

"Allow yourself to lean on me. I may be short but I'll be here to hold you up" I smiled, "thank you" 

"There's nothing wrong with showing weakness baby. I know you don't like to have a lot of attention. That's my job" he laughed at his own comment. "But you still are allowed to show weakness" he kissed me. "I love you Kwannie" 

"I love you too" he smiled and tapped my nose, "let's get you some allergy medication before you stop breathing." He kissed me again. I smiled and nodded, he took my hand and pulled me into our room. 

~two years later~ 

Seungkwan and I had been dating for nearly 6 years and I still get nervous being sick or showing weakness at times. No matter what. Seungkwan noticed this and began being extra sweet and gentle with me. It still didn't mean I was any more comfortable with sneezing in public. I still hated sneezing or coughing in public. So whenever we had schedules or concerts or anything like that on days when my allergies were bad or I was sick I noticed Seungkwan would go out of his way to be next to me.  

There was a nasty cold that had gone around the group and I was the first one to get it, it then spread to the rest of the maknae line and eventually the group and while everyone had recovered, I was still here, suffering from it. Curse my shit immune system. But still, our manager decided I was well enough to resume schedules. Unfortunately I still had a stuffy nose and a cough. Plus I was sneezing more than I usually did. Seungkwan seemed to notice my apprehension when the company informed us we would be doing a full group vlive. 

Seungkwan p.o.v 

I saw the color drain from Vernon's face when they said we would do a group vlive. I knew he wasn't feeling good and therefore was even more sensitive than usual. Especially because I knew he really didn't want to cough or sneeze on camera if he could avoid it. I pulled Jeonghan and Seungcheol to the side. "Hey hyung, if it's not too much to ask can I please be next to Vernon during the group live?" I asked them, hoping they wouldn't ask too many questions. "Sure, is he okay?" 

"Yeah, because he's still recovering I want to keep an eye on him." they both nodded. 

Once the vlive started I stayed close to Vernon, I kept my arm around his waist and would occasionally lean my head to his shoulder. Just wanting him to know I was there. I could feel him relax every time. Which made me feel better. 

About halfway through the live I felt him tense up suddenly. I glanced over at him and saw him sniffling, he kept swallowing, anxiety showing on his face. I leaned close to his ear, "Don't worry. It's okay" he smiled at me. He leaned away from me slightly and coughed into his elbow. I smiled encouragingly at him. He sniffled, and sneezed once. "Bless you" I whispered to him, I placed my hand on his thigh. He glanced at me and smiled. "You okay?" I whispered. He nodded. 

"Vernon, some of the comments said bless you" Hoshi said, this brought attention for the members over to him. He blushed and nodded. I wrapped arm around his waist I pulled him closer to me. "It's okay. They do it because they care." I whispered. He smiled at me. "Thank you" he said. "Anything for you baby" I whispered, not really caring if anyone heard me, "I love you." he blushed, "Love ya too." 

#Seventeen #verkwan #vernon #seungkwan #sickfic #sneeze

[birdy-bat-writes]

Head cannon: SuperFam taking care of a Sick Lois

Author’s Note: Heyyyyy. Can you believe it? I posted something! I know, I’m baffled too. So, I want to apologize once more for how absolutely inactive and DEAD I have been, like I’m pretty sure this is my first post in 2 years. I’m hoping this post commemorates the end of my slump and I’m so excited to be back into this community and talk to you guys! You don’t even know how much happiness I get from talking to you all!

In other news, I have COMPLETELY forgotten how to do this. I’m trying to remember and get used to the process of titling, adding the authors note, content warnings, tags, and linking this in my Masterlist and stuff. I had to dig through the depths of my computer history to find my taglist but I guarantee you guys I’m missing some things that are the traditional norms in tumblr content posts. Please let me know how I can improve! I imagine my writing has probably changed or gone down a bit in the time I’ve been inactive so I would really appreciate any comments either on the posts themselves or in my inbox or even chat me up! I love talking to you all! Anyway, without further ado, let me present to you, the shenanigans of the superfamily.

@offendedfishnoisesoises deserves majority of the credit because 1, my favorite enabler Is back at it again and enabling me and 2, they basically cowrote this entire thing! Love you fishhhhh!

____________________________________________________

Clark, Jon and Kon tend to be impervious to the majority of human illnesses. They do occasionally suffer a small cold from overusing their power and burning themselves out, and sometimes Jon and Kon’s human genes leave them a little more susceptible to the rare fever but for the most part, the superhumans of the Kent family don’t often get sick.

When they do? They are absolute babies, and Lois is the perfect loving caretaker who soothes them through it all. She’s taken care of countless colds, fevers, super sneeze attacks and more.

That being said, Lois is also the only one of the 4 who doesn’t have superpowers (the Kryptonian kind, her mom powers are unmatched and sharp as a knife), meaning she can get sick a little more often than the rest.

The first time she got a fever when Jon and Kon were both old enough to notice was a real experience. You can imagine how 3 supers (all of whom are very protective of their dear mom and wife) would be a little overwhelmed and panicked at the sight of Lois sleeping in until 2:00 pm, all pale and warm.

Jon: “No, this is freaking me out, should we use the ice breath?”

Clark: “No!”

Kon: “She’s breathing really heavily! Does this happen with colds?”

Clark: “Sometimes…”

Kon: “Sometimes?! What is ‘sometimes’? Does this happen to you? Did you recover fully?”

Clark: “Well, this doesn’t happen to me that often, but I think this is normal.”

Jon: “You THINK? No, no, I’m calling Grandma.”

It’s quite funny to watch because they think it’s way worse than it is. Lois is comfortably out with her Nyquil and sleeping through all of it.

At some point while Clark is being told what to add in the chicken soup by Ma Kent, Damian calls to ask if Jon wants to hang out.

Damian: “You busy?”

Jon: “Not now, Damian! I can barely hear my mom breathing.”

Damian: “WHAT? What’s going on? Is everything okay? Where’s your dad?”

Jon: “He doesn’t know what to do. None of us do. I’ve never seen her like this. I think I’ll get her some tissues to stop the leaking.”

Damian: “Oh my gosh, stay right there.”

So, then Batman, Robin, the Flash and Aquaman show up, because the JLA signal went off. I mean, clearly this is a JLA level threat.

Damian: “Where’s the blood?”

Jon: “What blood?”

Flash: “Oh my god, There’s bLoOd??”

Batman: “Clark, what happened?”

Clark: “She…. has a cold��.Why is half the Justice League here?”

Jon: “There’s no blood, Damian, I got tissues to stop her nose leaking!”

Aquaman: “A cold? I thought this was serious!”

Clark, Kon and Jon in unison: “THIS IS SERIOUS!”

This is about when Lois woke up and opened her eyes to multiple superheroes in her living room waving around tissues and instant noodle soup, arguing over much water to add.

*Proceeds to check the expiration date on the NyQuil*

Deciding this was a fever dream, Lois closed her eyes and went back to sleep.

Damian: “This was your emergency? Grayson works through this all the time!”

Kon: “That might speak more to Dick's terrible self-care routine and even more terrible self-preservation.”

Flash: Maybe we can google some Home remedi- Aquaman! We talked about this! You don’t find a human being’s pulse in their feet!”

Aquaman: “Well how am I supposed to know? You think I’m a normal human?”

Flash: “Well don’t look at me! I heal quick.”

They all look at Bruce.

Bruce: *Sweats* “Don’t look at me, I have no clue what to do. It’s all Alfred.”

After a very long call with Alfred, everyone went home, and Clark carried his wife and kids to their rooms. He noticed that Lois ate some cheerios and the soup he brought to her before she fell asleep and stayed with her through the night to make sure she had everything she needed.

The next morning, Lois found the table laid with breakfast ready for her.

Lois: “Aww you guys! Thank you for taking care of me, you’re all so sweet. You know, it’s so funny I had the craziest dream yesterday.”

*Proceeds to tell them about how a chunk of the Justice League was in her house arguing over soup and how she thinks it’s a dream because such a bizarre thing would never really happen*

Them: “Haha, yeah, that’s sooo crazy. We would never actually let that happen….”

So, they denied it because in hindsight, it seemed pretty silly to be so worried. That’s not to say that they didn’t react the exact same way the next time Lois had a cold.

They couldn’t keep this secret forever though, as Alfred called to check up on Lois. It was at that moment that she knew, her boys had absolutely NO idea what they were doing, but she loved them all the same.

Lois: “Hey guys, I think my friend is sick. She’s feeling all dizzy. And a little warm.”

Clark: “Oh no, should we go to her?”

Lois: “Well, I was thinking we could the JLA and Alfred :D”

Busted.

Heads turn to her at breakneck speed, and she starts laughing.

She was definitely going to coach them later but for now, she just stood there with her family, taking in how much they all cared for each other.

_______________________________________________________

Thank you all so much! Leave a comment and tell me how you've been! I love you all!! <3<3<3

Taglist: @anothertimdrakestan @offendedfishnoises @comicsandhoney @river-bottom-nightmare @catxsnow @cries-in-fangirl @batarella @idkmanicantenglish @musesofliterature @l-horizondepeu @subtleappreciation @ereaaa @foenixphire @screennamealreadyused

I imagine some of you have changed usernames so i will look for your new names and try to add them! for now, Let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist! <3

#superman #superbat #superboy #dc comics #dc fluff #fluff #batman #superfamily #lois lane #dc headcanon #jonathan samuel kent #jondami #kon el kent #conner kent headcanon #clark kent fluff #clark kent #aquaman #alfred pennyworth #batfamily #jonathan kent #dc #all the floof #superman fluff #jon kent fluff #kon kent fluff

[fluffyllamas-23]

I love your new girls!! feel free to ignore this, but I'd love to see Audrey watching Taylor (my grumpy fav) try to power through something that like. actually freaks Audrey out? like a REALLY high fever that has her confused and weak, or appendicitis symptoms or hitting her head really hard or a peritonsillar abscess or something. idk, i just want to see them argue about whether or not they need to go to the ER, lol. if u don't like this as a prompt then just consider it a Nice Thought(TM) :)

Oooooh that IS a Nice Thought™. I know this was left years ago, so they’re not quite new anymore. This probably won’t be super long and also just kind of ends, but I hope you like it! Enjoy some “Taylor being a silly goose and worrying Audrey”

“Taylor, we’re going to the Emergency Room.” Audrey says urgently, hovering over her with concern plastered all over her face. “Let’s go.”

“No,” Taylor snaps weakly, blinking rapidly to try and clear the dots forming in her peripherals. Her head is swimming, and she feels so woozy. It’s probably the fever she knows she’s spiked. She squeezes her eyes shut, hoping that does the trick and stops the world from moving. 

“You fell down the stairs. What do you mean ‘no’?” Audrey is nearly hysterical at this point.  

“I mean…I’m fine,” she grumbles.

Taylor had woken up with what they think is probably the flu. She’s feverish, headachy, shivery, and just downright exhausted and miserable. Despite Audrey’s protests, Taylor was fully intended to get some work done anyways. She had a few photoshoots she’d done that have yet to be edited, and she was adamant that it be done today. She was wildly optimistic, though. She spent more time sneezing and sniffling and coughing and fussing with her ears than she did actually working. Staring at the computer screen did nothing but make her headache about ten times worse, and now all she can focus on is the jackhammer that’s taken up residence in her skull.

Audrey was downstairs in the kitchen making Taylor some tea and something to eat when she heard Taylor fall down the stairs. It was a horrible noise, one that Audrey hopes to never hear again. 

One that sends her running faster than she’s ever ran in her life. 

So that’s where they currently are. Taylor is at the bottom of the first landing, flat on her back and staring straight at the ceiling. Audrey’s not sure how or why she has the energy to be arguing about going to the hospital, but she is not pleased. 

Audrey purses her lips. “People who are fine don’t just fall down the stairs, darling.”

“I just got kind of dizzy,” Taylor admits with a cough, and then adds quickly “but I’m fine!”

“You’re not fine!” She shouts. 

Taylor winces at the volume level, the throbbing in her head increasing.

“Audrey,” Taylor groans, “stop yelling. My head….”

“Sorry, sorry,” Audrey says softly, helping her sit up. The change in position makes her vision swim again, and she has to sit with her head between her knees until it passes. She straightens up and looks at Audrey. Audrey sighs, brushing the hair off of Taylor’s face. “I’m not mad, I’m just worried. Does it hurt because you have a headache or because you hit your head?”

Taylor chews on the inside of her cheek, avoiding Audrey’s gaze. “Both.”

“Okay then you need the ER,” she says firmly. “Will you please just let me take you?”

Taylor bites her lip, looking up at Audrey. “Can I admit something?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I’m not sure I can stand…I’m still dizzy, I might need help,” She admits sheepishly.

“Taylor,” she grins, cupping Taylor’s fever-warm cheek. “Have you been this stubborn because you’re embarrassed?”

Taylor scowls at her, “yeah. So what.”

“Sweetheart,” Audrey chuckles. “I can help you to the car. you just fell down the stairs.”

Taylor bristles. “I know. I was there.”

Audrey strokes her cheek. “Baby, I just meant you don’t need to be embarrassed. You’re sick, it’s okay.”

She sighs, turning away from Audrey to cough into her elbow. She really does feel ten shades of miserable, and all she can think about is how nice it sounds to just go back to bed. 

“Okay,” Taylor relents in a small, weak voice. “But can we stop for a milkshake on the way back?”

“Baby, you can have anything you want. Name it, it’s yours. Now, are you good to stand? I’d really like to get going.”

Taylor nods, holding out her hands for Audrey to help her to her feet.  She stumbles a bit, knees giving out once she’s standing upright.  Audrey wraps an arm around her waist, steadying her. 

“Sorry,” Taylor mumbles. “Thank you.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah…just…don’t feel great.”

Audrey frowns, “I’d say ‘not great’ is probably an understatement, my love.”

“Yeah…definitely is,” Taylor mumbles, suddenly feeling much worse.

“Then let's get you feeling better,” Audrey murmurs into her ear before kissing her cheek.  

Taylor is just relieved that maybe she can get some meds and this will all be over soon. 

She's also looking forward to the milkshake.

#sickfic #coughing #flu #Taylor and audrey #ocs #endings are too hard tbh #I didn't edit this bc of course I didn't but it's fine probably just excuse all the spelling errors lmao #ty for this ask bb