#big comfort... snff...

[nordidia]

vent/comfort art to keep myself present during ptsd flashing

[wetsnifflesneeze]

Contagion Filth. Lil bit Dom/Subby. A + B.

Listen guys this is kind of gross haha so if you don't like intentional contagion probably don't read it. This part is about A but obviously B is going to get sick too, I just need to write another part for that!

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"Hey" A sniffles and faces B.

"Hi honey"

"I *SNFff* I caught a cold"

"Come here darling" B gestures to their lap, inviting A to sit there.

Once A is seated comfortably B gently cups their face and looks at their sniffly nose, starting to turn a little bit pink at the edges. B gives their nose a little kiss and A sniffles again in response.

"And is this going to be your cold or our cold?" B asks.

A smiles gently and confirms "Our cold"

"So you know what you need to do?" B asks.

"Yeah, when I need to sneeze I need to sneeze on you or at you. Or if you're not close by I have to sneeze into the air or on some of your things"

"Exactly my love." B gently kisses A's lips and feels a little bit of the clear snot dripping down from their nose. A continues sniffling. It wouldn't be long before they would need to sneeze.

B loved catching A's colds and vice versa. Rather than inducing A's sneezes there was something about letting the sneezes come naturally. That way it was all of A's poor noses fault they would end up sneezing too.

A's breath started to hitch.. "I'm.. huh.. going to sne.. sne.. uhEEIISSSCHOO" B watched as A's nostrils flared and felt a light mist after the explosion from their sniffly nose.

"Bless you gorgeous. That's it, I want you to sneeze for me like that"

"*SNFFGH did you like it? Could you feel it?"

"I did baby, I felt your wet sneeze on my face. I love you." B gave A's face some light kisses"

A's head tilted back a little, nostrils twitching and flaring again as they sneezed a double "huhEIISHTCHIEW.......hehIIISSSSHHH ugh"

The second sneeze the wettest so far. Giving B's face a nice bit of spray with their germs.

"Bless you my love. This cold is giving you some nice sneezes already. Thanks for sharing them with me, you're a good baby."

B was out of the house stocking up on some tissues and other supplies for this sneezy cold they were going to share.

While B was out A took a shower and sneezed "EEIIIKSSSSHEW" in the bathroom afterwards spraying their mirror. Perhaps it would be still visible to B when they came home later. Then afterwards in their bedroom A felt another tickle, they had time to grab B's water bottle from the nightstand, unscrew it and let out a "HAHIIIISSSSSHHHHCHOO". They screwed the lid back on. That sneeze was pretty big and messy they were left with a couple strings of snot coming down from each nostril. They really needed to blow their nose now. They got some tissues and blew enough to clean themselves up and ease the congestion. They left the used tissues on B's side of the bed after rather than in the bin. As is the cycle with a head cold they could already feel their nose getting stuffy again and their sensitive nose was already starting to tickle they sneezed "EEIIIKSSSSHEW" onto B's pillow. They knew B would be happy to hear about this later.

B came home and not long after A felt a sneeze coming. They quickly got up and tried to make it as close to B as possible before sneezing. They made it to the living room where B was but not close enough to actually sneeze on them.. so they sneezed "HAHTIIIISSSSSHHHHCHOO" across the room. B watched the small cloud of spray lingering in the air in awe as it began to fade away some droplets lingering on the coffee table.

"Bless you baby, that was a big sneezie, c'mere" they bring A onto their lap again and used their t-shirt to clean some snot dripping from A's nose. "That was a nice welcome home" they add and kiss A's cheek. "Did I miss any more sneezies?"

"I sdneezed in the bathroom, ond our mirror. Thend I sdneezed ond your water bottle ahnd your pillow *SNDF SNFF*"

"Oh baby, you're doing everything you can to give me your cold"

"Sharing is caring *Snf*"

"Here let's blow your nose, you're getting all stuffy my love" B holds a tissue to A's nose and they give a soft but productive blow.

"Better?" B asks kindly

"Yeah, much. It won't last for long though... honestly my head is starting to hurt from all the congestion" A replies a little bit dejectedly.

"Oh love, you're really starting to feel under the weather now huh. Don't worry, I bought some medicine and we'll order some nice soup for dinner. I'll make you some tea right now too. You won't feel bad for long, promise" B leans in and give them a gentle kiss before going to prepare the tea.

A needs to sneeze again and doesn't want to get off the couch, they sneeze openly towards the coffee table "hehtIIISSSSHHHIEW" where the tv remote and B's phone were.

B came back with the tea and let A rest their head in their lap until their dinner arrived, B played with their hair and helped them to blow their poor runny nose every so often. The room punctuated with A's wet sniffles and a little bit of background noise from the TV which neither was really paying attention too.

Not too long after they were having their soup. It felt good on A's throat which hurt a little bit and helped with their blocked nose a little too. The warm steam was tickling their nose a bit and B noticed they had out down their spoon and had that distant look right before they closed their eyes and snapped forward with a sneeze "TIIISSSSHHHIEW" aimed towards their bowls of soup and teacups.

"Bless you, my love" B gently rubbed their back.

A was silent, because they were building up to another sneeze "EETIIIKSSSSHEW" spraying their soup once again.

"Bless you love"

"Ugh thandks *SnNgFF*"

They finished eating their soup, B turned on that they were eating soup sprayed by their sickie's germs.

"Shall we go to bed my love?" B asked

"Yeah, I'mb tired."

"I bet you are, poor baby."

They got into bed, B gave A some cold medicine and rubbed their chest and back with vaporub. Ready to sleep A layed their head down on B's chest and made a little whiny noise. B rubs their back reassuringly. "HEAATTtSSSHHOO" A sneezes onto B's chest and they feel the mist of fine droplets settle onto their bare skin some reaching as far as their neck and chin.

"Bless you honey" B kisses their lips which were nice and moist after the sneeze. A's breath gets shaky and they explode with another "hahTTIIIISSSSSSHHHU" into B's neck.

"Bless you again darling" they grab a tissue and clean up around A's drippy nose before giving it a kiss. "My poor sneezy baby."

"Ugh, just want to sleep now but my ndose won't let me" A whined and pouted.

"You'll sleep soon my love, your body must be exhausted fighting off this big bad cold. Just lay here on me, don't move. I'll take care of your nose"

A's breathing changed and B knew in an instant what was coming, they gently covered A's nose and mouth with one hand and caught the "APTTIIIIISSHEW".

"Bless you, beautiful" B grabbed a few tissues and secured them around A's nose. "Now blow for me."

A followed B's instructions and B felt the way their nose vibrated as A tried their hardest to clear their nose. This just started to make their nose tickle and they sneezed a "HAPTTtSSSSHHOO" into the tissues.

"Bless you, poor little thing all the cold germs inside your nose are getting it all irritated." B discarded the tissue into their bed and A let out an uncovered "HAHTIIIISSSSSHHHHCHOO" and another "hehIIISSSSHHH" onto B's face

"That's it baby sneeze it out, get it all out. It's meant to be shared, share it with me"

"I can breathe a bit better now." A said.

"I'm so glad baby, now get some sleep" B kissed their forehead.

"Okay, love you"

"I love you too"

[rykno-j]

Thinking of you (j/jk)

(after writing the whole thing out, it actually got pretty long, arghsgd.)

I wrote this with s/atos/ugu in mind but I ended up not establishing it explicitly, so I'll leave that up to interpretation.. but obviously they are in love.

Anywayy, my first full fic for j/jk? And it's for them? I mean of course it is. Who else would it be for?

2.9k words

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They were currently in another city, on a mission, having been specially requested.

The exorcism was done quickly (of course) and Gojo suggested they shop for souvenirs to bring back for their friends, to which Geto agreed with a rather reluctant sigh.

Unbeknownst to Gojo, Geto had been struggling through a suppressed cold for the past few days, and it was making him become easily exhausted.

However, in an attempt to avoid the stew of questions that would follow if he turned Gojo down, Geto opted to go to the nearby mall instead of returning to the hotel for much needed rest.

He followed Gojo around for an hour before he felt his body begging him to stop, to let up. At the moment, Gojo seemed to be absorbed in the wide array of sweet snacks on display. Geto considered this to be his first little glimmer of luck for the day.

"Satoru- I'll just be over there alright? There's something I want to look at."

"Mm, yeah, okay-" Occupied with his basket full of goods, Gojo didn't spare Geto a second glance nor did he notice anything, much to Geto's relief.

Making quick escape from the store, Geto looked around desperately for a bench, a stool, anything for him to sit down and rest.

And he found one, an empty seat by the side of a big fountain right in the middle of the mall.

As Geto sat down, he resisted the urge to curl his knees against his chest. Isn't is supposed to be summer right now? Why is he freezing?

Water from the fountain splashed around him. He had noticed the slight temperature drop due to the flowing water. Normally, it would have been a good relief from the heat. But right now, it only served to make him shiver harder.

He should really move to a warmer spot.

Geto considered getting up from his seat, but his eyelids felt heavy, and his legs were begging him not to stand up for the next few minutes.

It wasn't as if he could find another place anyway. Everything suddenly felt really blurry, and Geto was sure he could fall asleep right there and then, if not for the dull tickle that formed at the back of his nose, courtesy of the cold temperature.

"..h'-hngxtt!! hh-tch'gxt!!"

They came out louder then normal, due to Geto having no energy left to stifle them into complete silence. He crossed his arms around himself, pulling the jacket he was wearing tighter around his body.

He shivered. Not warm enough.

"..hhH'-!!"

And to make matters worse, the urge to sneeze creeps back up on him. Preparing a fist in anticipation..

It never comes.

"hh'H-!! a-ah'.. m'n.. snff-"

A quick glance around the mall gave Geto the comfort that he was indeed alone. If need be, he could always give his nose a mildly rough rub to send him back into a building hitch. But doing that has only ever led to sneezes that came out harsher, and that would be hell on his throat. He'd rather avoid that at all costs.

As if fate was playing with him, some of the water from the fountain splashed onto the bit of exposed skin on his neck, causing rapid shivers to run down his spine.

Raising an arm to wipe the droplet away, it was quickly re-directed away from his back and in front of his face-

"..haH'-ngXxt'chh!! hH'..hNgxt! "

The first one manages to escape due to how unexpectedly it came. However, the second that followed was quickly pinched into submission.

Geto sighs inwardly, rubbing his nose softly. He could feel a dull ache starting to pool between his eyes. Tomorrow was going to be a lot worse. He could already hear Gojo reprimanding him for not taking care of himself, all while begrudgingly making a cup of warm tea for him.

(of course i meant 'begrudgingly' here not in a literal way but more of an endearing 'take care of yourself, dammit! or i'll do it for you.' way)

It may not seem like it most of the time, but Gojo cares about people in his own way. Geto had been on the receiving end of several of such telling acts before.

As an example, Geto was half sure that Gojo had put a little more effort into the exorcism this morning than he normally would have, allowing Geto to take is easy.

Or it could have been sheer pure coincidence. Whatever it was, he was grateful.

Speaking of which, where was he? Geto was fairly sure a good chunk of time had passed since he made his timely escape. A quick check of his phone showed no missed calls or messages.

All he wanted to do at the moment was to burry himself under the covers of the hotel bed. Why did he even agree to follow Satoru here in the first place? Oh, right. It was the fear of being alone in this state.

Gojo was as much of his weakness as Geto was sure he was to the other.

Geto leaned forward to hold his head in his hands. He must be having a mild fever, if these thoughts running through his mind was any indication of the fact.

"..hH'tchh'w!! hah'dtchh!!"

With his hands still covering his face, Geto decided against stifling those. His head hurt, and the sneezes were soft enough that the noise from the fountain behind him muffled the sound. Besides, nobody was watching.

Geto remembers the first time he sneezed in front of Gojo. it was an accident, one that he normally didn't make in front of people. He remembers Gojo reaching for his wrist and pulling it away from his face as he geared up to stifle another.

"..Suguru, don't do that."

Nothing else was said, but Geto distinctively remembers the way Gojo was looking at him. No disgust in his eyes at all. Just pure tenderness.

"..haH'dZzch!!"

"See? That's a lot better, isn't it?"

There was just something about that interaction that melted Geto's heart.

Back to the present, Geto had shut his eyes, and was starting to drift off into a light sleep when a gentle hand on his back made him jolt up in surprise.

"Bless you."

"..Satoru? are you done shopping?"

"Suguru- are you feeling alright?" He had completely ignored the question about shopping.

"Yeah, I'm fine, what makes you think otherwise?"

Behind the sunglasses, Geto could make out an unamused look coming from the other. Then, he notices the cool palm resting against his forehead. How long had Satoru's hand been there for? Had he really not felt the touch until now? Maybe he was more out of it than he gave credit to.

"Well I don't know. Maybe the fact you've left my side for a good half hour? I thought you were going to come back once you were done looking at whatever you left for. I was waiting, only to find you crouched over here! Not to mention the fever you're running right now."

Geto winced at the scolding tone of Gojo's voice. Moments of silence passed before he heard a soft sigh.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to shout. Want to head back? Can you walk?"

Geto nodded in response to the question. Using Gojo as a crutch, he rose to his feet, making sure the world stopped spinning before he opened his eyes.

The comforting hand that was on his back never left its place throughout the whole trip back to the hotel. Halfway through, the coat that Gojo was wearing even found its way onto Geto's shivering frame.

"Suguru, go lie down. I'll make you some tea."

There it was. The tea, just like he had expected.

"I was wondering if this morning was a fluke. Guess it wasn't after all. I have quite the foresight, don't I? Putting in a little more effort so you didn't have to," Gojo remarked rather smugly, though there was a tone of softness behind it.

"You're lucky exhaustion only caught up to you at the mall, what was I supposed to report if you collapsed while the exorcism was still happening? You need to take better care of yourself, Suguru."

And there was the scolding, just like he had expected. But he wasn't going to take that sitting down, fever or not.

"You're one to talk."

"HaH?? I take perfectly good care of myself."

"Says the one who passed out through lessons last week."

Gojo grumbled something that Geto couldn't quite catch in response to that statement. When he finally turned around, mug in hand, Geto could have sworn he saw a look of concern flash past Gojo's features.

Either that, or it was the fever making him see things. No matter what it was, Geto reached out a shaky hand to clasp at the steaming mug Gojo held out for him. He hopes the shivers had went unnoticed.

"You know, a few more sugar cubes would never hurt."

Geto couldn't help but smile.

"Well, I'm not you. Thank god I'm not you, a-actually. hH'..having two of y-you running around would cause our teachers a b'hH!! ..bigger headache, I'm sure."

Gojo watched, unamused as Geto turned to the side to stifle three itchy sounding sneezes into silence.

"A bigger headache than you're giving yourself by doing that?"

"..Yes."

Gojo let out a small sigh of defeat before making his way to where their luggage was. Carefully, he pried Geto's open, before realising that he should actually ask where the thing he was looking for was.

"..So where's the medicine?"

"..Medicine?"

"Yeah, for your cold. You packed some, right? There's no way you just caught that today."

Geto felt his legs curl up under the blanket. He considered lying, saying a quick "I didn't" or a quick "it started today". But then Gojo would probably leave the hotel to go buy him some, and he didn't want the other to leave his side, not yet.

"..Top half, middle pouch, shoved all the way to the bottom."

After a bit of digging, Gojo pulls out a small packet.

"When's the last time you took this?"

"..In the morning."

Gojo hummed in reply, moving to push one of the pills out before returning to Geto's side.

"It's a new pack too. Recently bought from the store? Is that why you randomly left school alone the other day?"

"..Maybe."

"How long did you intend to hide this for?"

"..Until i got better.

"You weren't going to tell me?"

"No."

"Why? You don't trust me?"

"..I didn't want you to worry."

"Suguru- you know I only worry because I care."

Geto had to laugh at that, softly. "You're saying weird things, Satoru."

"It's weird that I care about you?"

"No. It's weird that you're expressing it so openly."

Gojo let out a small sound of exasperation, holding out his hand as he looked away. "Take it, you need to get that fever down."

"Mm, thanks."

Once the mug was empty, Gojo made a quick trip to the sink to clear out the teabag, before he returned to the bed, this time crawling onto it from his end instead of standing by the side.

He flops onto the pillows, fluffy white hair spanning out. A hand makes its way onto Geto's chest, tapping it lightly, an unspoken invitation.

Beside him, Geto sighs. "It's still early, Satoru. You sure you don't want to go walk around a little by yourself? We're heading back tomorrow anyway."

"M.. yeah. I already bought everything I need. And besides, there's no way I'm leaving you here alone."

"Because of your 'worry' again?"

That same little sound of frustration left Gojo's lips as he threw the blanket over himself rather haphazardly.

Right. The only person he'd get this worried about was Suguru. It always has been this way, and probably would stay this way. He was the only one Gojo would show this side of himself to.

Instead of a response, Gojo slipped his arm under Geto's chest, pulling himself closer to the other.

"..Enough about that, you should rest now."

Geto allowed himself to get pulled under the covers, allowed Gojo to press his head softly against his chest.

He could feel Gojo's heartbeat, steady but fast. The rhythm slowly lulled him into a state of drowsiness, and Geto would have fallen asleep right there, if not for yet another tickle that buzzed at the back of his nose.

"S-Satoru.. hH'-!! I- I have t'hh-!!"

Gojo made no signs to move despite Geto's light tapping against his back. Just his luck that his arms were trapped under Gojo's sleeping body.

The light tapping turned frantic, before Geto squeezed his eyes shut, bracing his forehead against Gojo's chest, trying his best to keep the outburst as quiet as possible.

"hiH'tchh-w!! hah'zchh!! ..snff- hh'ngxt!!"

The last one, painfully stifled without his fingers, sent a shiver down Geto's spine from the effort it took.

"..Suguru, you should just let them out."

So he was awake after all. The bastard just wanted to watch him suffer.

Geto sniffled, pulling his arm from under Gojo's body.

"I.."

"If you're worried about it getting everywhere, you can just use my shirt, you know?"

Geto blinked once, twice. Did he hear that right?

"Why do you think I'm wearing this one? It's the softest I've got." Gojo pulled up the edge of his shirt in demonstration, bringing it to Geto's cheek and wiping is softly. "See? You can just use it, it won't irritate your nose further."

Geto opened his mouth to argue, but was interrupted by a hitch in his breath.

"hH'-!!"

Taking advantage of the other's sudden vulnerability, Gojo grabbed both of Geto's wrists, pinning it against his own chest.

"Trust me, Suguru."

"Let.. m'hH-!! ..me g-ghh'!! ..go-"

"Not until you-"

"..hH'!! ..haH'dzZchh!! ..hiH'zzch-w!! ..hH' haH'DshH!!"

"There we g-"

"..heH'DzZtchh!!" hah-hH'dtch-iww!! I'm s..shH' haH'tzcHH!!"

Geto refused to lift his head, instead choosing to ram his forehead into Gojo's chest. Underneath his fingertips, Geto could feel Gojo's heart racing.

"See? That wasn't so difficult, was it?"

When he was met with no response, Gojo reached under his shirt with the hand currency not occupied with securing Geto's wrists to his chest. He lifted the soft fabric with careful fingers, bundling it before gently pressing it to the base of Geto's nose.

Gojo felt the other stiffen against him as his shirt made contact with the sensitive skin. Geto could feel Gojo's slender fingers through the cloth. If he didn't know better, he would've sworn that they were quivering.

After a moment of silence, Gojo was the first to speak.

"See? It's okay. Don't worry."

"..You don't think I'm- ..it's ..disgusting or anything?"

"Of course not. Why would I?"

If there was any point in time that Geto felt like crawling into a hole, it would have been this moment. He was sure inside his ribcage, his own heart was beating as fast as the one under his palms.

He sniffled uselessly, the thought of pulling away completely leaving his mind. Satoru was right, the shirt felt really soft against his nose.

"Suguru, You're shivering."

Was he?

Gojo sighed, letting go of his wrists to reach over, pulling the blanket over to cover up to Geto's neck.

"Get some rest, okay? We have an early flight tomorrow."

"..snff- That goes for you as well."

"I'll sleep, after you."

Soon after, Geto drifts off into peaceful sleep, his head pressed against Gojo's warm chest, arms wrapped around the other as if Gojo was the only thing grounding him to reality.

Gojo on the other hand, watched with endearment as Geto shifted in his sleep, letting out muted stuffy snores every now and then. The hand on Geto's back remained through the night, all whilst rubbing comforting circles into it.

He remembers the words that Geto once told him a while back when he was in a similar situation, knocked out from a bad cold.

"Satoru, you've been too strong for too long. Let me take over, even if just for a little while."

And now it was his turn. Gojo lowered his head to Geto's, his voice a soft whisper, afraid that he would disturb this much needed sleep.

"Suguru, I'll take over from here. Get some rest, okay? I'll be here when you wake up in the morning."

With that, Gojo let his chin rest softly atop Geto's head, palm finally slowing to a stop. And if they shifted in their sleep such that they woke up with their limbs all entangled with each other? That would be a memory for another time.

And the shirt? Gojo had folded it gently into his bag in the morning, only to take it out on their flight back home to be used as a pillow for Geto as he dozed off against his shoulder. And if they held hands under the armrest, fingers intertwined? That never happened.

Gojo's lips curled into a contented smile as he tilted his head to rest against Geto's. Truly, he did not even remember the grade of the curses that they had exorcised last morning.

Not that it's important, Gojo thought. Nothing is. At least compared to you.

-end-

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My first full fic for j/jk, and my first fic in a long while too ahhhhh

oh god i hope i did the characters justice. it was rly fun to write this one, i won't lie about that.

Maybe gojo was a little ooc in this, but i genuinely think that when he's alone with geto, especially with the state that geto is in, his soft side would shine a little more.

This started out as a 100-200ish word scenario, but i have NO IDEA what happened, but i kept typing, and this was the outcome

▪︎•▪︎

but anyway, i hope it was a nice read either way

Edit: theres a sequel now shsjhs

[gogenana]

Megumi

Megumi Fushiguro had endured plenty of things: cursed spirits, missions gone wrong, and troublesome teammates. But right now, none of those could compare to the misery of his current situation—his sinuses were a wreck.

His head throbbed, his nose itched incessantly, and the sneezing wouldn’t stop. Each breath was a ticking time bomb, ready to unleash another explosive sneeze at any moment. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, but the pressure did little to stop the irritation bubbling inside his nostrils.

Shivering slightly, he sat cross-legged on the floor of his apartment, tissues scattered around him like fallen leaves. His nose was red and raw from constant rubbing, and he was exhausted from sneezing every few minutes. But what really sealed his fate was the decision to summon Shiro, his Divine Dog.

The moment Shiro padded closer, tail wagging and fur ruffling in the slight breeze, Megumi felt a shred of relief. The thought of burying his face in that soft fur was too tempting to resist. Desperately sniffling, he leaned forward, pressing his face deep into Shiro’s thick coat.

The warmth was comforting, and at first, it felt like heaven. The plush fur muffled the wet, exhausted sniffles that escaped his irritated nose. He sighed in relief, taking in a deep breath—

—Big mistake.

“...Hh-hhh’TSCHHHHH’uhh! Hht-TSSHHHHHh!”

The sneeze exploded out of him, shaking his whole body. The fur was soft, but it also tickled, horribly so. It clung to the sensitive tip of his nose, teasing it mercilessly with every tiny shift of his head.

Shiro whined softly, tilting his head in confusion as Megumi continued to smother his face in the dog’s fur. But the combination of comfort and torment was impossible to resist. Even though the sneezes kept coming, Megumi couldn’t bring himself to pull away.

“Hehh… hhh’KSHHHuhh! Snff! Hhhh-TSHHHHHhh! Hnnngh…”

His shoulders trembled as another fit hit him like a wave, one sneeze after another tearing through him with no end in sight. Shiro nudged at his side, sensing Megumi’s distress, but all he could do was let his master continue to bury his face in his fluffy coat.

“Hh-! Hihhh—hhh’RRSHHHh’uhhh!! D-Damn it...” Megumi gasped between sneezes, his voice hoarse. His nose twitched violently against the soft fur, each movement dragging more of the tickly strands across his nostrils. The itch seemed to crawl deeper with every second, refusing to give him even the briefest moment of peace.

He groaned miserably, trying to sniff back the mess forming around his nose, but it only resulted in a pitiful wet snuffle. “Snff! Snffff!Hh’KCHHHHhhuhh!!”

The sneezes kept coming, rapid and harsh, leaving him breathless. He felt like a broken faucet, leaking from every part of his face. His hands clutched Shiro’s fur, desperate for some kind of comfort, even though the same fur was the source of his torment.

Megumi managed to lift his head for just a moment, gasping for air through his stuffed nose. His eyes were watery and unfocused, lips parted as if the next sneeze was already on its way. Shiro gave a small huff of concern and nuzzled closer.

The action sent another puff of fur brushing against Megumi's nose—and that was the final straw.

“Hh-HIHH!! Hh’tCHHHTtt! IHHH-’TSCHHHuhh!!”

He collapsed against Shiro with a defeated groan, utterly spent but still helplessly caught in the endless cycle of sneezes. The only thing worse than the sinus infection was knowing he’d brought this upon himself. But the soft warmth of Shiro was too soothing to let go of, even if it meant sneezing his soul out for the next hour.

Shiro gave a low, affectionate whine, curling around his master protectively as Megumi let out another exhausted “Hh’hhht-TCHHHuhhh!” into his fur. At least if he had to suffer, he’d do it somewhere warm.

“...Snff Hhh-TSSHHhh... Damn dog,” Megumi muttered weakly, already bracing himself for the next fit.

[bewitchedfeathers]

Unnoticed

Sick Steve and Eddie the only one noticing he's sick

Thank you @sunrise-curve-dd for the prompt! I hope you like it!

—-

Eddie had been watching Steve all afternoon while the party hung out at Steve's house enjoying the pool on such a hot day. Steve has been sniffling off and on but had easily waved away Dustin's brief concerned look as the pollen in the air. But Eddie wasn't convinced.

Eddie frowned as he noticed Steve stumble over nothing, that paired with his slightly flushed skin, sweat beaded brow and chafed looking nose could mean only one thing. Steve was sick. 

But no one else seemed to have noticed, distracted by the warm spring weather and the pool. 

Eddie casually joined Steve in the kitchen where he was grabbing another soda. "You doing all right man?"

"What? Yeah, of course," Steve said waving off his concern with a smile that seemed strained around the edges.

Eddie stepped closer and pressed his hand to Steve's forehead, he hissed at how warm Steve felt. Steve jerked backwards looking like a deer in the headlights.

"You're burning up, man."

"It's just warm out and I've been snf running around."

Eddie raised an eyebrow before his expression softened at Steve's obvious anxiety. "Steve…it's okay if your sick," he said gently.

"I'm really fine," he insisted followed by another wet sniffle. 

"You look like you're about to fall over," he frowned, "Even if you're not sick, will you at least lay on a pool lounger for a bit and take a load off?"

Steve's expression was pinched and confused at the offer so Eddie decided to play his trump card. "Please? For me, Steve, so I don't worry?" He said with wide brown eyes and a pleading expression.

Steve's resolve collapsed like a house of cards. He darted his eyes away, pink-cheeked. Then let out an exasperated sigh. "Yeah, alright. Since you insist," he said like he was doing him a big favor. And then his nose wrinkled and he whipped his hand up to his nose pinching it roughly between two fingers.

"Hh-hh-hh….Huh'ehrSHXT…Hhhhhh'IT'ksxxt-sshu..snf.."

"Oh sweetheart, how long have you been doing that?" He asked softly, reaching up to brush a few fallen locks of hair off Steve's forehead.

Steve's cheeks flushed darker at the petname, and it spread to the tips of his ears at Eddie's gentle hand brushing over his skin. He unconsciously leaned slightly forward chasing the feeling of Eddie's touch. 

He tried to pull it together but he was so tired and Eddie was being so kind and soft. "Since this morning. Snfff," he admitted reluctantly, voice slightly rough from his stifled sneezes. 

“Why’d you try to hide it?” he asked, giving Steve’s shoulder a comforting squeeze and trying to ignore his own heart fluttering at Steve’s display of vulnerability.

"Snf. Didn't want to cancel the…hehh…Snff party. Or have anyone worry about me. It's snf just a…hah…hhh-hh," Steve raised his hand to hover just below his nose ready to catch the building sneezes,"…Huh'EHsshh…ETSSHoo..snffff…scuse me. Just a cold," he finished with a snuffley tired sigh.

"Bless you. Well the others will be fine if you go take a nap, Stevie. I can tell them you weren't feeling well but not to worry," he reassured the younger boy. 

Steve nibbled his lower lip as he considered the offer but gave in after another particularly congested sniffle. "Yeah, alright. Thanks Eddie." He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Eddie's cheek in gratitude without thinking about it. And then wandered upstairs leaving a stunned and smiling Eddie in the kitchen.

(Masterlist of Fics)

[softsnzstuff]

Sicktember Day 6 - Sick on Vacation

@sicktember Day 6

Prompt: Sick on Vacation / paired with an ask: Streamer Steve and Eddie at a convention? Steve has a cold but was insistent on coming to meet his fans, he even made little signed photo cards for the first few people. Eddie makes him wear a mask and follows him around, doting on him during the entire day. Has tissues, cough drops, and water for him 🥹

Fandom: Stranger Things, streamer AU

Word Count: 2.6k

CW: None

“Are you sure you don’t just want to cancel?” Eddie pressed.

Steve had been booked to come out to StreamCon in San Francisco this weekend to livestream, meet fans, and do a few panels.

Steve folded a shirt and added it to the suitcase, “No, Eddie, I told you already. The fans would be so disappointed and I already made snFF some signed cards for the first 25.”

“Steve you’ve had this stupid cold for like three days…” Eddie’s voice now tiptoed into concerned territory.

“Yeah snF, three days already it should be practically gone by thehhh-”

“Bless you!”

“HEH ISSSSH! Tisssssh! EHH’ktchEW!”

The last sneeze had been messier than anticipated. Eddie grabbed a couple tissues from the box and handed them to Steve who still had a wrist in front of his face.

“Christ Stevie, what am I gonna do with you?” Eddie scolded slightly, “You should wear a mask when you’re meeting fans since that was more than a little disgusting.”

“Already planni’g od it.” Steve mumbled from behind the tissues.

**

The next day, the boys were at the airport waiting to board the flight to SF. Steve insisted on lunch and Eddie insisted on Burger King.

“Smile Steve!” Eddie laughed as he snapped a photo with his phone.

Eddie tapped away at the screen for a minute and then held the phone at arms length to show Steve what he’d posted.

“Who’s sick, a streamer and coming to a city near you? If you guessed Steve and live in San Francisco - it’s your lucky day! Be prepared to wash your hands a LOT ! Steve is like. Super gross rn.”

“Great Tha’gks. Really captured m’by charmb…”

Eddie laughed as the worker called order 86 and they collected their food.

The four hour flight was pretty uneventful. Steve was asleep, restless against Eddie’s shoulder in business class. every now and then, the older of the two would reach over and pull the younger closer to him, rubbing his arm to comfort him.

The rest of their evening was filled spent checking into their hotel and going out to find some early dinner so Steve could rest before StreamCon started tomorrow. They settled on a small Mexican restaurant.

When they’d finished eating, Eddie noticed one of the waitresses staring at them. He chuckled and ushered her over with a smile.

“Oh my gosh, hi. Sorry I didn’t want to interrupt you guys but I’m a big fan of Steve’s streams.”

A huge smile crossed Steve’s face. “I’d shake your hand, but I’m a bit sick this week. What’s your name?”

“I’m Cassie! I’m actually coming to StreamCon tomorrow! I requested the day off MONTHS ago!” She exclaimed. She couldn’t be any older than 22.

“It’s so nice to meet you Cassie. I’ll see you tomorrow alright?”

The girl nodded enthusiastically with a “thank you”.

“Take care, love.” Eddie said. He was always soft with Steve’s fans. He popped into some streams every now and again - enough that the fans knew who he was.

Eddie glanced over to Steve who was coughing into his shirt collar.

“Let’s head back to the hotel. You sound like you need some rest.” Eddie suggested, Steve nodding tiredly in agreement.

**

Eddie woke up at 8am the next morning. Steve was still snoring beside him, so Eddie quietly left the bed and hopped in the hotel shower, letting the warm spray wake him up.

“Hey sleepy,” Eddie placed a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder and kissed his forehead, “Today’s your big day.”

“Wha times’it?” Steve groaned.

“It’s almost 8:30.”

Steve groaned again, triggering a cough that Eddie didn’t like the sound of.

“Why don’t you take a shower. Might help with some of the congestion.”

Steve nodded sleepily and slowly got up, grabbing his outfit for the day and then heading into the bathroom.

The younger man turned on the water, stepped inside and breathed in the steam, immediately feeling the shift in his sinuses.

“AGKTchew! Tsschiew! Snfff SNF EHH’ktchEW!!”

He sniffled for a minute as he applied and then rinsed the shampoo from his hair.

“TSSSCHEW!”

On the other side of the door, Eddie winced. Steve definitely sounded worse for wear this morning. Thinking ahead, the long haired man had packed a small Fanny pack that had tissues and cough drops. He packed it away for the moment just as Steve opened the bathroom door, a small steam cloud billowing out. Steve emerged, drying his hair with a towel.

“-ssCHEW!”

“Bless you! How are you feeling babe?”

“Ummb..” He coughed, “Ndot great but uh… I’ll be okay.”he did up the top buttons of his shirt and kissed Eddie on the cheek.

Twenty minutes of hair drying, hair styling, and putting on rings (for Eddie), they were out the door ubering to the convention center. They were dropped off at the special backstage door for guests only.

“Hi Steve, Eddie! Thanks so much for coming. We’re just wrapping up the opening ceremony and people will be on the floor soon. I think we’re going to start with some photo ops if that’s alright?” The woman had a managerial vibe about her.

“Sure.” They both nodded.

“Alright, follow me please.”

She led them down a corridor that led to some double doors. She opened them and it led them out behind a curtained area where the photo ops would be held.

“I’ll have you guys in booth B for now. This is Tracy and she’ll be your handler for the day.”

“Nice to meet you guys! Everyone is so excited to see you, Steve.” Tracy was a mid 20’s Asian woman with an artistic air about her. She seemed lighthearted and fun. “So we’ve got about ten minutes before the attendees start lining up, is it okay for the photographer to get a few test shots?”

“Sure! I’ll just stand here?” Steve pointed at a tape ‘X’ on the floor. “Eddie?”

“They’re not here for me, man. This is allll you, big boy.”Eddie smirked and took a seat on a stool just out of frame, near where the attendees would be exiting.

“Alright Mr.Harrington, my names Greg and I’ll be the photographer. If you could just look right here for me… aaaaaaand big smiles!”

The flash went off, bouncing off the light reflectors all over the room.

“And one more please Steve.”

Once more the flash went off and Steve could feel a prickle in his nose.

“Heh-issssh! Hhhh heh’Tisssh!”

“Bless you! Sorry my lights can have that effect sometimes.” Greg joked. He was an older man in his 40’s and was very near bald but very friendly.

“Steve-” Eddie called over now that Greg was done with his test shots.

Steve walked over towards Eddie to see him wearing a Fanny pack and holding out a tissue. He choked back a laugh as he swiped the tissue.

“Is that a fandy pack Mudsond? Where?? Why???”

“It’s full of the good stuff for you today, don’t question it!”

Steve blew his nose and tossed the tissue in the trash can to Eddie, looking a little unsure of what to do with his hands.

“Are you looking for this?” Eddie asked, holding up an industrial sized bottle of hand sanitizer.

“Actually yeah.” Steve cupped his hands and held them out while Eddie squirted some into his hands.

“I’m on sanitizer duty for the fans now.” He smiled.

“Sorry to interrupt Steve, the attendees are lining up whenever you’re ready.” Tracy had left a few minutes ago and was now poking her head back through the curtain.

“Yeah, go ahead and send them in!” Steve resumed his spot on the X as two more volunteers filed in, one at the curtain to let them in, and the other by Steve to help get them in the photos.

A chorus of screams rang out as mostly late teen to early twenties girls came in, a few dudes in there as well.

“Oh my god STEEEEEEVE!! HES HERE!”

“Okay my love, you’re first.” The volunteer ushered her over to stand next to Steve.

“Hi, I’m Steve. It’s so nice to meet you.” He greeted her.

“Thanks for coming!! I know you’re not feeling well. Can I have a hug?”

“Sure.”

Steve wrapped his arms around the girl as Greg snapped the photo.

“Come get some sanitizer, darling!” Eddie called as she exited frame.

“OH MY GOD EDDIE!!” Eddie laughed as multiple girls screamed, only noticing him sitting in the corner when he spoke.

Steve managed to get through a a good twenty photos or so before his nose once again got the better of him.

“Hi! What’s your nahhh - IKT’chEW! Excuse me. What’s your name?”

Steve twisted to the side to sneeze and walked over to Eddie for some more sanitizer before returning to the X.

“Bless you! I’m David. I saw Eddie’s post,” the boy looked to Eddie who smirked, “how are you feeling?”

“I’ll level with you, man, I’ve been better, but I’m having such a great time meeting you all.”

The boy nodded and asked to recreate their characters’ poses from the game and collected his squirt of sanitizer on the way out.

Another 50 people come and go, a few of the girls in their 20’s asking Eddie to join their photo, which he happily does, throwing up the rock n roll hand!

“Ahhhhhh thank you Eddieeeeeee! Thanks Steveeeeee!” They squee as they run out, remembering to collect sanitizer from Eddie.

The girls leave and Steve turns away, pulling the neck of his shirt over his face.

“AK’tchEW! TsssCHUH! Snfff H’NYesshEW!!”

Tracy steps to the side, getting a message in her earpiece. “Steve they’re asking if you’d like a break before we start autographs?”

“I um- TSSSCHEW! Fuck!”

“I think a break would be great Tracy, thank you.” Eddie steps in, standing up and putting a hand on Steve’s back. He was doubled over gearing up for another couple sneezes.

Greg, taking use of his break as well, steps out to give them some privacy. The volunteers following.

Eddie had pulled some tissues out of his Fanny pack and held them up for Steve.

“H’MPTssch!” Steve’s chest expanded as he inhaled suddenly. “Hehh H’AESSSH!”

“Bless you! Damn. That sounded like it hurt…” Eddie handed off the tissues to Steve who started cleaning himself up.

“That’s because it did hurt.” Steve winced rubbing at his throat.

“Here babe.” Eddie unzipped the Danny pack and pulled out a cough drop for Steve.

“You’re the best.”

“Told you I had the good stuff.” Eddie winked and rubbed some sanitizer on his hands. “You want a hit?” He quirked an eyebrow at Steve who nodded and he squirted some for his boyfriend.

“Im gonna go wash my hands actually.” Steve said as he left the curtained area, Eddie in tow.

**

The table for autographs was behind a curtain, trying to give a little privacy, though both Eddie and Steve were aware it was slightly see-through. Fans were already lined up on the other side chatting amongst themselves as volunteers explained how it would work.

Steve was really thankful they had waters already at the table for him. He took a greedy swig and then pulled out the special cards he had made and signed for the first 25 fans.

“Stevie don’t forget-”

“Mask, right. I got it.” Steve pulled out a disposable surgical mask and slipped the loops around his ears.

“Good boy.” Eddie grabbed Steve’s head with both hands and pulled him in for a kiss on the forehead.

Steve rubbed his hands with some sanitizer before gesturing for Tracy to start letting them in. A controlled trickle of fans made their way behind the curtain, giggling with excitement when they could see them.

The first was a group of three girls - about 18. They were all cosplaying as their characters. Steve started signing some of their things, “Wow, guys those costumes are incredible. Did you make them?” He asked.

One girl nodded frantically, tears forming in her eyes. Steve glanced at Eddie, who made a sympathetic face. Steve reached across the table and took her hand. “Hey it’s okay, what’s your name?”

“Julia!” She choked out.

He looked up to get her to meet his eyes. “Julia how about I sign this for you okay?”

Her two friends shrieked. “She’s been watching your streams since you had short hair!!”

Eddie snorted from his seat.

“Oh Jesus…and you still stuck around? Well thank you for your support Julia it means a lot to me.”

“Ohmygodthankyou!” She screamed as her and her friends started to walk away. She turned to one and said “OMG IM NEVER WASHING THIS HAND AGAIN!!!”

Eddie cupped his hands around his mouth to make a megaphone, “PLEASE wash your hands! Steve is SO gross right now!”

Some of the fans chuckled, familiar with Eddie’s humor. Steve just elbowed him as the next several people slid through. Quite a few guys had the case of their game signed. A few had prop swords or costume pieces.

A bigger group of girls mid 20’s came up to the table and started chatting up Eddie while Steve finished signing for a little boy.

“Hey Eddie! We’re so glad you came too!”

“Who me? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Eddie joked. “I’m just here to dote on my favorite princess.” He leaned towards Steve and smiled. Steve would’ve flipped him the bird if there wasn’t an eight year old and his mom standing in front of him.

“Thanks bud, you have a grehhh a great dayyy..”

“Here he goes again…” Eddie teased for the girls.

Despite wearing his mask, Steve turned away,“ihh’TKtchEW! hehh-NGK’tchIEW! snffSNF isssCHIEW!”

“Bless you bless you bless you.” Eddie opened his Fanny pack and handed a couple of tissues to Steve, who started tending to his nose using his mask as a shield.

The girls “awwww”ed at the whole ordeal.

“Sorry! How are you all doing?” Steve turned his attention from his nose to the girls in front of him while signing their things.

“Better than you it sounds like.” One of the girls said.

“We saw Eddie’s post yesterday. Just wanted to bring you these.” Another girl added, placing a small bag on the table.

“Aw you shouldn’t have.” Steve cooed, looking inside. He chuckled when he saw it was a box of tissues. “Thank you, I’ll treasure it dearly.”

“Looks like someone’s already got you covered.” The third girl glanced at Eddie who smiled.

“Great minds think alike, eh?” He reached out and gave the girl a fist bump.

Eddie motioned to Tracy to pause the line for a short break after these girls. Steve was wrapping up signing their fanart and handed each of them one of his special cards that he prepared.

“Thank you so much Steve! We hope you feel better!”

Steve clasped his hands together and smiled gently, “Thank you!”

He sighed and leaned back in his chair after the girls had left the curtained area.

“Think you’re up for another six hours of this?” Eddie asked, resting a hand on his shoulder.

“Mmmm yeah I think I’ll be alright.”

“Okay. I’m gonna get you some tea and come back.” Eddie stood up and gave the shoulder a squeeze.

Steve took another sip of water and cleared his throat before giving Tracy a tired thumbs up to resume the line.

“Hi! Nice to meet you guys, I’m Steve-”

[lavsnz]

if you're still taking these prompts, 🥶💭💙 for the girls pls🥺

hello! i'm sorry this took so long & thank you for the req, i hope you enjoy! i am taking any prompts i've posted no matter the time! the prompts are from this prompt list (with inspiration pulled from this post as well) & with these ocs! i loved writing this, it's so incredibly soft & sweet & i hope you love it as much as i do 🥺

Rowan’s heart drops when she gets the text.

paisley mae💋💗

ro? i don’t feel well… can you come take care of me?

Rowan responds quickly, telling Paisley that she’s running out the door as fast as she can. Rowan’s mad at herself. How could she have missed something like Paisley being sick when they were having lunch together just over an hour ago? She does her best to recall any little signs or symptoms that should have told Rowan that Paisley was sick but can’t think of any. Rowan puts all of her anger and frustration into her speed walk over to Paisley’s, which ends up turning into a run. When she gets to Paisley’s apartment, Rowan knocks on the door a bit harsher than she probably should’ve, but she’s desperate to see her girl.

The door opens to reveal the antithesis of the Paisley that Rowan saw for lunch. Lunch Paisley had her hair up in space buns, her normal amount of makeup on, bright eyes and voice like usual. Lunch Paisley was wearing a sweater dress, tights, and thigh high boots which gave her another inch to add to the three she has on Rowan normally. This Paisley is in sweatpants, one of Rowan’s big sweatshirts that nearly swallows her whole and two pairs of fuzzy socks. This Paisley no longer has makeup on and her nose is so red. This Paisley has teary and tired eyes and was shivering just opening the door. This is a sick Paisley.

Rowan walks into the apartment and shuts the door behind her. After putting down her bag, she pulls Paisley into a giant hug, with Paisley’s head resting on Rowan’s shoulder.

“Oh my baby… What happened to you?” Rowan asks, squeezing Paisley tighter.

“I started feeling a bit bad this morning but it wasn’t enough to cancel lunch. I think it’s hitting me now, I c-can’t stop shivering and I’m so, so cold. I’ve been sneezing and I’m starting to cough. I just feel horrible. Snff! I’m starting to get a bit congested and my sinuses are already bugging me. I’m sorry I asked you to come over,” Paisley says with a few more sniffles and a cough.

“Paisy baby, why are you sorry?” Rowan asks, a slight look of defeat on her face.

“I feel pathetic and needy for asking. I just don’t want to be alone and I love your comfort and cuddles and kisses,” Paisley responds shyly.

Rowan takes Paisley’s face between her hands and softly kisses her. “You are not being pathetic or needy in the slightest. You’re sick, you deserve all the cuddles and love and comfort and warmth. Let’s go get all comfy and lovey. Bed or couch?”

“Bed, much warmer and snugglier.”

“Okay sweetheart, let’s go,” Rowan replies, taking Paisley’s hand in hers and walking to the bedroom. She pulls back the mound of blankets Paisley has on her bed and Paisley lays down. Paisley makes grabby hands towards Rowan and a noise of protest when Rowan starts to walk away.

“Where you gooooing?” Paisley whines in a baby voice, with a fake frown and puppy dog eyes on her face.

Rowan lets out a quiet laugh. “I’m just gettin’ some things for us. Water, medicine, thermometer, et cetera. Don’t wanna have to get up once I’m in bed with you. I’ll be so quick, then I’m all yours, okay?”

Rowan feels Paisley nod as she presses two quick kisses to her forehead. She hurries off to get supplies and comes back with what she said and more. Once Rowan has everything set up on the nightstands she climbs into bed. Rowan sits up against the headboard and Paisley moves to be in Rowan’s lap as much as she can.

“I’m right here baby, right here always,” Rowan says, kissing the top of Paisley’s head. A content noise comes from Paisley, and Rowan laughs softly from above her and kisses her head thrice more.

Rowan gives Paisley some medicine before she gets too sleepy, and turns on the humidifier in hopes it’ll ease some of Paisley’s congestion. The humidifier makes Paisley’s nose run, her nose starts to twitch and her eyes start to flutter.

“haHA-AAITSHIEW! AACHUO’OO! Oh my… I-I’b no-no- aptCHSIO’oo! Nod dode, SNF! SNFF!” Paisley says, all stuffed up and with a few coughs after.

Rowan hands her a strawberry handkerchief - one of Paisley’s favorites - and Paisley blows her nose harshly. Rowan takes another one of the handkerchiefs she brought and cleans up Paisley’s nose. Rowan holds it there when Paisley’s breath starts to hitch, but the sneeze seems to have gone away because Paisley’s breath returns to normal and she lets out a defeated sigh.

“Bless you, gorgeous. My poor love, you just have the stuffiest cold, don’t ya,” Rowan says with a pout on her face and in her voice, and she pulls Paisley closer to her chest. Paisley buries her face into Rowan’s chest and sniffles, and curls up even more into Rowan.

“You just make yourself so small to fit into my lap even with the three inches you have on me, huh, bug?” Rowan teases fondly, kissing the top of Paisley’s ear.

Paisley nods into Rowan’s chest. “Like mbakig mbyself smball around you, mbakes mbe feel safe. ssnff!” Paisley replies, rubbing her nose against Rowan’s chest.

Rowan hums and starts to card her fingers through Paisley’s hair. “‘M always here to make you feel safe and protected, darling. Always always.” Rowan says and nuzzles Paisley’s ear.

Paisley pulls her head away from Rowan’s chest as her breath starts hitching again and Rowan can tell that she needs to sneeze. Rowan knows Paisley well, knows Paisley’s little tells. So, Rowan knows Paisley prefers sneezing into Rowan rather than a handkerchief. Paisley continues to hitch and her nose twitches as Rowan quietly says “You… You know you can sneeze into me right? I know it makes you feel better, I really don’t mind, promise. I’ve got you, sweet girl.”

Paisley looks up at Rowan with wide eyes and a soft smile on her face, eyes fluttering. She ducks her head back into Rowan’s chest and sneezes out a AA-aitSHOO! And an h-HAHTSHIEW! and even more sneezes into Rowan’s chest with a shiver and some sniffles. Paisley then wipes her nose against Rowan in an effort to clean up the mess. Rowan takes a handkerchief and uses her finger to tilt Paisley’s chin up so that she can wipe Paisley’s nose.

“Oh goodness, bug… Some fit you had, bless every single sneeze,” Rowan says, kissing Paisley’s cheek multiple times in a row before finally leaning down to press soft kisses onto Paisley’s lips.

“Thangk you,” Paisley sniffs and nuzzles her face into Rowan’s neck, “I dond’t dnow how you dnow that and how it doesnd’t gross you out, but it just feels so good. SNFF!” Paisley finishes, doing her best to lay down while still in Rowan’s lap.

Rowan starts to lay down as well, and once she is she pulls Paisley into her chest, intertwining their legs. “When you love someone, you notice all these little parts of them with time. Germs don’t bug me. Even if they did, I would still encourage and offer to have you sneeze against me because I know it makes you feel better. Anything I can do to make you feel the best, I will,” Rowan replies, and kisses Paisley’s forehead.

“I dond’t dknow how I got so lucky. I lobve you.” Paisley says, snuffling into Rowan’s neck as she closes her eyes.

“I’m the luckiest. I love you too, my Paisley Mae.”

Rowan plays with Paisley’s hair and listens to the congested little snores and snuffles that come from her mouth once she’s asleep and thinks about how truly lucky she is to have her girl. Rowan hopes she’s always the one Paisley’s sneezing into, always the one loving on Paisley and being loved on right back. She falls asleep and dreams of their future, smiling the whole time.

[marvelousstevetony]

Can you do “I think that has to be a record sneeze sequence” for stony? Just sounds soo cute. Doesn’t matter who the sneezer is :)

Thank you, anon! I’m not gonna lie, this prompt was one of the reasons I reblogged the list, it is just too cute. I hope you enjoy this small ficlet of allergic!Steve :)

***

“Alright, straight to the bathroom,” Tony hurries at Steve as soon as they exit the elevator, steering him with a persistent hand at the small of Steve’s back. Both of Steve’s hands are rubbing harshly at his eyes, practically blinding him as he follows Tony’s lead obediently.

“Stop touching your face, it’ll only make it worse,” Tony hisses, but there’s no real fire to his voice, just a thick layer of concern.

“God, snff! it itches s-so b-badly,” Steve stutters, still swiping at his eyes.

When they reach the bathroom, Steve comes to an abrupt halt in the doorway and his breath starts coming in short desperate gasps. Tony stops as well, casts one glance at Steve and takes Steve’s hands in his own, revealing teary and red-rimmed eyes.

Steve’s nose twitches vigorously as a tear trickles down his cheek. Tony waits for Steve to succumb to the ticklish sensation, but after a few seconds and a series of urgent sniffles, he exhales in frustration.

Tony gives him a slight nudge and prompts him to enter the bathroom.

“Take your shirt off,” Tony orders while opening the cabinet and rummaging through all the crap that they have accumulated.

“How f-forward of you Mr. S-Stark.” Steve voice is still uneven as he begins shuffling out of his sweater.

“Not the time for flirting, Rogers,” Tony grumbles, face still buried in the cupboard. When he looks over his shoulder, he sees Steve pulling his shirt over his head, turning the inside out. “Not that way— shit,” he curses.

Tony can all but see the dander in the air, on Steve’s face, everywhere. He rips the sweater from Steve’s hand and hurls it away. It’s too late, he knows, because Steve’s face scrunches up around his nose, wiggling it helplessly, and he even scrubs at it with his knuckles, trying to impede the irrefutable itch. It doesn’t work.

“HuhhTCHHoo! Huh Uhh— UhhTSCHoo!”

The sneezes tear through Steve’s body so strongly that he has to grip the edge of the sink to keep him from stumbling. With the next sneezes, Steve doubles over, his clutch on the surface tightening.

“huhhCHshoo! ehTSChhh!”

Steve’s shoulders hunch forward and every muscle in his torso tenses with the force of the sneezes. Since he shed his sweater, Steve’s abs have been on full display and with each sneeze, they flex, flaunting the perfectly sculpted muscles. If Steve hadn’t been in the midst of a horrendous allergic reaction, Tony might’ve commented, teased him, said something completely vulgar and salacious. But right now, all he does is worry.

“Okay. Okay,” Tony repeats. “Here, sit down.” He guides Steve to sit a the edge of the tub while one more sneeze rips through him. And another. And another.

Steve is bent completely over at the waist, elbows on his knees as he aims the sneezes towards the floor, futilely trying to catch them in his fist.

“uhhUShhiew! uhhCHUSH’oo! huh… hetCHISHhew!”

They keep coming, the strong, throat-scraping sneezes that takes Steve’s breath away, all the while Tony is staring at Steve with wide eyes, completely in shock and unable to take act.

After the fifth sneeze in as many seconds, Tony squats down in front of him placing his hands on Steve’s broad shoulder.

“Hey,” he says softly, brushing his thumbs over Steve’s naked skin when the sneezes calm down for a moment. “We need to get you into the shower… you think you can take your pants off yourself, or do you need my help?”

Steve glances up at Tony through his eyelashes. They’re clotted together by the same salty tears that are streaming down his face. Even with the blurry vision, he can see Tony smirking, and he can’t help but smile weakly and shake his head with fondness.

“I t-think I… SNFF! I can manage,” he says, his voice thin and wheezy.

“Right.” Tony gets to his feet and turns on the shower spray, adjusting the temperature to what he knows Steve likes.

Steve gets as far as being stripped to his boxers when the uncontrollable itch resurfaces. This time, he has to lean against the wall for support, but Tony’s quickly at his side, steadying him.

“Okay, sit down again,” Tony stresses.

“etCHisshoo! uhhUSH’oo!” The dirty blonde hair falls into Steve’s eyes, and every time Tony tries to brush it away from his face, another sneeze makes it fall right back. “G-god, Tony, it j-just woohhn’t s-stop… uhhUSCH! huh— Jesus…” Steve mumbles.

After grabbing a washcloth from a drawer, Tony wets it and starts wiping Steve’s tear-stained face with it. It’s cool and it feels amazing against Steve’s flushed cheeks.

“Mhmm, that’s nice,” Steves sighs, but it almost sounds like a moan, and Tony chuckles softly at the pleased sound.

“Have to get all that dander off your face…” he murmurs, and Steve gives an affirming hum in reply. “That was rough, Steve. I think that has to be a record sneeze sequence,” Tony jokes, but there’s truth to it.

“Probably,” Steve agrees and huffs a self-deprecating laugh. “I feel miserable.”

“Well, you did just sneeze your head for five minutes straight, so,” Tony reasons with a wry smile, and Steve just hums again, doing more sniffling into the washcloth than washing his face.

“Y’know, I knew you were, like, the most boy scoutiest Boy Scout of all, but helping a cat down a three—“

“It was stuck, Tony!” Steve says defensively. “What, did you expect me just to stand there and watch? Didn’t you snf! see the look on that little girl’s face?”

“Woah, calm down, there,” Tony laughs, holding his hands up and forging innocence. “I just don’t understand why you insisted on climbing up a tree, getting the cat down, and then proceeded to carry it like a baby when you’re clearly deathly allergic to them.”

“I had to help the girl,” Steve explains, looking at Tony as if it was the most obvious answer ever. “Besides, I didn’t know I was allergic.”

Tony glares at Steve, incredulously. “Really? You’ve never encountered a cat before?”

“Of course I have. I was— snffSNFF! was allergic to them before, but I thought it’d disappeared when I got the serum. I guess n-not, though… huh-Tschushh! Oh.”

“Bless you,” Tony says, gently stroking a hand over Steve’s hair.

Steve acknowledges the blessing with a nod. “Tha-ahh…  hrrisshhieew! uhhISHH’ehh!”

“Alright, Sniffles,” Tony starts, patting Steve’s shoulder. “Hop to it,” he says and nods to the shower. “I’ll grab you some tissues and some heavy-duty allergy meds.”

While Steve showers and gets cleaned up, Tony sends Natasha to the drugstore for some extra soft tissues, and he calls Bruce for advice on which medicine would be best for someone like Steve. Though Bruce always claims he isn’t that sort of doctor, he usually knows best in situations like this.

Tony himself prepares soup for them to eat in bed. Before Steve, Tony had never though of himself as the care-taking type, but Steve apparently brings out a whole new side of him.

When Steve emerges from the bathroom, wearing a new, clean sweater that’s at least one size too big on him, and looking like he’s no longer about to pass out — but still with the pink nose and the soft eyes — Tony is waiting for him in bed with a dozen boxes of tissues, a variety of different allergy pills to chose from, and two steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup.

They both get tugged up in bed, and shortly after taking the medicine and eating the warm, comforting soup, Steve feels much better. He still has to lean away from Tony to catch a stuffy, soft hetpChsh! every once in a while.

“God bless you, tiger,” Tony murmurs after the third one, and he looks over at Steve, whose cheeks have turned the same flushed shade of pink as his nose. “Why are you blushing?”

Steve ducks his head and smiles shyly. “Oh, um… nickname,” he just says, inadequate to say anything else without fumbling with the words.

Tony smiles widely and cups Steve’s cheek with his hand. “Hm. Seems fitting, don’t you think? Tiger…” He leans in to brush his nose against Steve’s and kisses him tenderly, letting their lips melt together, uniting as one as if they were never meant to be apart.

[kidical]

Ok I know I talk abt EJ and Jeff a lot but I raise you: Toby and Sally. In my hcs Toby was the second kid Slender Definitely Didn't Steal, with Sally being the first. Because of this they grew pretty close. Toby knows all of Sally's favorite shows, toys and games and she knows all his tics and how to make him laugh. They don't spend all their time together nowadays but Toby is still the one Sally goes to for reassurance or deep conversations on the few occasions she isn't feeling like herself.

PLEEEEAAASSEEEEE sally and tobys dynamic is something that makes me so happy TT___TT 

i think both of them find comfort in each other, toby having lost his sister and sally taken from her parents. toby becoming a big brother figure for sally helps both of them cope because toby really misses having a sibling and sally never had a sibling to protect her or play with, so toby kind of goes like, ‘what would lyra do’ and shit ;_; IDK I CANT PUT IT INTO WORDS PROPERLY but i think about them a lot snff 

[fluffyllamas-23]

Post-plane ride hell

Okaaaaay! I was not planning on writing this until after my semester ends, but then it just kind of...happened? So enjoy, I guess XD

Shoutout to @embriumtea for feeding my addiction to making new OCs and sending me that really wonderful pic of Matteo’s face claim 

(Matteo speaks some Portuguese in it, and my sincerest apologies for any mistakes.  I, unfortunately do not speak the language so I used google translate).

It’s not unusual for Mateo to be exhausted coming off a flight - more often than not, he was.  It’s also not unusual (though it hasn’t happened in a while) for him to step off the plane feeling bleary and headachy and just plain run down.

Declan knows this (of course he knows this, they’ve been dating for three and a half years), and Matteo barely has to say anything for him to know when he’s not feeling well.

The phone call when he stepped off the plane had been brief, but it was long enough for Declan to know that Mateo is coming down with something (he’s not entirely sure Matteo even knows it, though). His accent, though usually almost undetectable, sounded much thicker over the phone, which is always the number one indicator that he’s about to be knocked on his ass by some sort of hell-virus very, very soon.  

The frustration is another huge indicator - Matteo is rarely in a bad mood (that’s Declan’s area of expertise, honestly). He had very angrily told Declan to stop asking if he needed a ride home, and then hung up in annoyance when Declan called him a complete moron (which, in hindsight, was probably not the greatest thing to call his tired and ailing boyfriend).

The way Declan sees it, there’s one of two ways this will play out.  The first is that Matteo will continue to be frustrated and annoyed and will go to bed mad at nothing but his shitty immune system.  The second, which is exactly what Declan hopes will happen, is that he’ll just admit he’s not feeling well, drop the attitude and cuddle with him on the couch.  

A little over half an hour later, the front door opens, and in walks a very rumpled, very tired and very worn out looking Matteo.

He drops his bags on the floor, and Declan has him wrapped up in a hug in an instant.  Matteo visibly deflates and slumps into him, face buried in Declan’s chest.  

“I’m okay.”

“Matty,” Declan says softly, “come on.  I know you.”

“I think I’m getting sick,” he admits in defeat, “I don’t feel very well.”

“Yeah, I could tell.”

Matteo groans and rests his chin on top of Declan’s shoulder, “remind me never to agree to work a twelve hour international flight ever again.”

Declan chuckles, “I told you it was a bad idea.”  

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles.

Declan kisses the top of his head, “Are you achy? You’ve gotta be achy.”

Matteo nods, pressing his face even more into Declan’s chest, “yeah.”

“Okay,” Declan soothes, rubbing his back, “how about you go lie down and I’ll draw you a bath? It’ll help you feel better.”

“Oh God, please,” he groans, “everything hurts.”

Declan frowns, “yeah? You want my heating pad in the meantime?”

“Not unless you have one that fits over my whole entire body.”

“Are you feeling bad enough to need some medicine?” Declan asks, reaching around him to put a hand on his cheek. He doesn’t have a fever yet, thank God, but Declan has no doubts that he’ll spike one soon.

“No...not yet...m’jus...tired.”

“Did you sleep at all on the flight?”

“No.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Declan grumbles, “go to bed.  I’ll get the bath ready and bring you something to eat.  What do you want?”

“Nothing.”

Declan rolls his eyes, walking with him to their room, “that’s not an acceptable answer, and you know it.  You’ve gotta work with me a little bit, sweetheart.”

“Uh...maybe...some toast?”

“Is that a question or a statement, babe?”

“Ugh, I don’t know,” Matteo groans, “I’m really not very hungry right now.”

“Is your stomach bothering you?”

“No.”

“Did you eat anything during the flight?”  

“...No.”

Declan sighs, “you have no sense of self preservation, you know that?”

“You’ve been telling me that for the last three and a half years,” Matteo groans, collapsing down onto bed. Declan pulls the blanket over him and strokes his cheek

“Will you please eat at least something? Two bites, you don’t have to eat everything, but you need at least something in your system,” Declan asks.

“In a little bit? After the bath? I’m so tired…I want to sleep.”

Declan runs his hand through Matteo’s hair, “alright. Close your eyes, I’ll come get you in a little bit.”

By the time the bath is ready, Matteo is sprawled out in bed, fast asleep.

“Matty, wake up,” he says softly, waking Matteo against his better judgement. He really should just let him sleep - the poor guy is absolutely exhausted.  

He forces his eyes open, which elicits a low groan of discomfort, “ohhhh.”

“Are you okay?”

He lets out a stuffy sounding sniffle, rubs at his eyes and then squeezes them shut again, “mby head. Oh mby God.”

“Oh...you sound awful, sweetheart. What happened? You’ve only been asleep twenty minutes.”

“I dond’t kndow…oh shit, this is awful.”

Declan presses the backs of his fingers to Matteo’s cheek, “no fever, that’s good.  I’m going to go grab you some decongestants and then the bath, yeah?”

“Dond’t wandt to mbove.”

“I know, I know, but it’ll help with the aching...and the steam will help the congestion.”

He sniffles, rubbing at his nose, “you’re probably right.”

The bath does help, although Matteo is too consumed by how awful he feels and how he just wants to sleep, to enjoy it. He stays in it for all of seven minutes before croaking out that he needs to lie down, because even sitting there is too taxing and he feels on the brink of passing out.  

Declan helps him to the bed, and then rummages around in their dresser for a pair of his sweats and a hoodie that’ll be much to big for Matteo.  

“Here,” he says, tossing him the clothes. “Get dressed and get under the blankets, I’m going to go get you water and the thermometer.”

*

Declan always knows exactly when Matteo spikes a fever, and that moment comes at three in the morning, when Matteo shakes him awake

“Decland, acorde,” he mumbles, “eu mbe sindto horrível.”

“Honey, I can’t understand you,” Declan mumbles, rubbing at his left eye with the heel of his palm while he pushes himself into a sitting position.

“Doendte,” he groans, muffling a series of itchy sneezes into the blankets.

“Okay...I know that one,” he sighs, chewing on his bottom lip.  He presses a hand to Matteo’s forehead, inhaling sharply at the heat radiating off of him “you need medicine...shit, you’re really burning up.”

Matteo blinks at Declan in confusion - everything feels like it’s moving in slow motion, everything aches and burns...everything just feels wrong.  He’s simultaneously too hot and too cold, and his head is throbbing so much that just moving it to look at Declan is entirely too painful and brings tears to his eyes.  

“Decland,” he groans, gripping at his shirt.  

“Yeah, hey, what’s up?” Declan asks softly.

“I…” He can’t figure out how to form words - especially in the language Declan understands.  

Declan can tell he’s struggling, he can see the frustration in the line that’s appeared down the center of his forehead, in how tense and rigid his entire body had gone.  

“Hey, hey, hey,” Declan soothes cupping Matteo’s cheek with one hand, and with the other, he smooths his thumb down his forehead, “it’s okay.  Don’t worry, you’re alright.  I just need to get the fever down.”

Matteo mumbles something else in portuguese, eyelids drooping.  

It takes a little bit, but his fever is finally down from nearly one hundred and four to a much more comfortable one hundred and one. Neither of them get much sleep the rest of the night, and by eight that morning, Matteo is on the couch, shivering beneath a blanket.  He watches Declan pace through half-lidded, bleary, fever bright eyes.

He’s been sneezing off and on all morning, and each sneeze feels progressively worse and triggers annoying, stuffy sounding coughing fits.

“You dond’t have to call out,” Matteo sniffles, rubbing at his nose. Despite the fever drop, he still doesn’t feel much better.  

He feels less hazy, yes, but he’s still so congested that it’s making his head throb and leaves him with a dizzy, light headed feeling.  His throat hurts (and everytime he swallows, he’s reminded of that fact), his body hurts, and he’s so tired he just wants to cry.  

“Yes I do.”

“Ndo...hhh..hih’ihtshuh! Ihtsch! Tshih! Snff! Snff...”

“Yes. There’s no way in hell I’m going to leave you alone when you’re this sick.  Mnh-mnh, not happening...and bless you.”

“S’probably...hihhh...ihhh...heh...a g-good thi’gg-tschih!...dizzy,” he mumbles, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Bless you.  See?” He says, ruffling Matteo’s hair, “I’m going to go call my boss, I’ll be right back.”

Declan steps outside, closing the sliding glass door behind him as he pulls his phone out.  He can hear Matteo sneezing even with the door shut - the fit sounds exhausted and scratchy and drawn out, and Declan’s heart clenches.  

Once the phone call is finished, he steps back inside to find Matteo half slumped over with a handful of tissues pressed to his face.  He blinks away irritated tears before his breath hitches again and he lets out a shaky, “Ehtschuh! Tschuh! Snff!”

“Bless you,” he frowns.  

Matteo slumps into him, coughing a little as he rests his head on Declan’s shoulder, “I’mb exhausted.”

Declan wraps an arm around Matteo, rubbing up and down his arm, “I’m going to go get you something to eat, does anything sound good? I know you’re not hungry, but you haven’t eaten today...or yesterday.”

He sniffles, “cand you mbake that s-soup...hhh...hihhh...ihtsch! Hih’tscheww! snff...that onde...ihtsch! Snff! Snff! That you mbake?”

Declan laughs lightly, “yeah I can make that.  Want me to put a movie on for you?”

He shrugs tiredly, “I’mb about to fall asleep. Umb...cand you wait ond the soup? I wandt to cuddle.”

“Absolutely,” Declan says softly.  Matteo maneuvers so that he’s laying with his head in Declan’s lap.

Declan begins carding his hands through Matteo’s hair, which effectively lulls him to sleep.

Translations:

Acorde: wake up

eu me sinto horrível: I feel horrible

Doente: Sick

[sneezingpotatoes]

A Sick ‘Vacation’ [Part 2]

Three hard knocks serve as a rude awakening, pulling Yuko out from his short slumber. Who could it be at this hour? Yuko thinks to himself, being greeted with a pulsing headache, a slight itching in his throat and a tingle in his nostrils. He pulls the sheets over his head, feeling annoyed at how quickly the symptoms persistently returned and flushed like a wave all over his body as if they were reclaiming lost territory. He decides to ignore the visitor, and hopefully return to a passive snooze.

“I have a package for Harima! Hello? Is this the right room?” The voice of a woman is heard from the other side of the door, jolting the teen out of bed.

Oh, right… The paperwork…

Yuko releases an agitated sigh, groaning to himself seeing how he really didn’t want to leave his warm cocoon. “Just a minute…!” The boy attempts to yell at the woman to keep her at bay, kicking his reserved voice fully out of commission. His raspy voice gets lost in a sea of ghastly coughs, which he barely catches in the crook of his elbow. He clears his throat, desperately trying to stop himself from scraping his raw gorge any more than he already has, and forces himself to get out of the bed.

The teen groggily approaches the door, barely keeping his own balance, and slowly opens the door with a finger resting underneath his nose, trying to prevent any liquids from leaking down. A middle-aged woman greets him, shocked at the appearance of Yuko, but quickly plays it off and shows him the folder she has in her hands. “You’re Yuko, yes?” She smiles, revealing a set of braces lining her teeth.

He nods, hoping that he won’t have to say a word, just grab the paperwork and lay back down. He knows that if he tries to speak, his irritated throat would burn and make him start coughing again, which is something he did not want to repeat. He sniffs twice and rubs his nose with the curl of his finger, trying to lessen the sensation of the irritant prickling his red-rimmed nostrils, which only seemed to be making it worse. He mentally curses his stupid, sensitive nostrils, already feeling his eyelids trying to close against his will, and his breath unsteadily hitching.  

The woman gives him a look of concern and takes a closer look at the teen. “Hey, are you alright…? You don’t look so good…”

Yuko quickly backs away from the woman, being overtaken by the prickly sensation that insists on torturing him and he slowly brings a cupped hand up to hover over his mouth. His eyes flutter shut, along with his lips gradually parting. “I-I’b… fihhh -snff- F-fide…” He whispers, more like to himself, through staggering breaths, as he rapidly sniffled, attempting to eagerly release the stuck sneeze that refused to free itself. He freezes, lips parted, eyes shut, jaw dropped and hand promptly in front of his mouth, impatiently waiting for the inevitable.

“Hm. For some reason, that doesn’t sound too convi—”

“Hehh’KSSHT!” Yuko interrupts the woman midsentence, instantly burying his face deep into his now wet hands, with each sneeze clawing at his throat, stripping it dry. “Hh’ISSCHIEW! ‘KSSHEW! ‘Itssch-‘Ksshh-‘TsshIEW! ’ISSCHIEW! Ih’TSCHIEWW!!” Not even having time to collect himself, he leans onto the doorway for support, frantically gasping for air, only for his scattered breaths to be interjected with grisly coughs, gaping out of him.  An upsurge of lightheadedness crosses the teen, as he attempts to swallow away all the itching in his throat and breathe properly.

The woman anxiously grabs the teen and rests him on her shoulder, walking him over to the couch and closing the door behind her with the swing of her foot. “I’m going to sit you down, okay? Just try and breathe for me!” The boy weakly collapses onto the cushion, coughing up a lung on the couch, tears rolling down his cheeks from all of the burning in his throat. The woman tosses the folder onto a nearby coffee table and fills a glass with water from the sink; She hands the glass to the boy, making sure he drinks every last drop of it.

“T-thagks…” The boy mutters over a shaky breath, still sniffling and wiping at his nose, hoping that the tickle leaves him for good.

The woman grabs the used glass and sets it in the sink, scratching her head. “Well, I didn’t exactly come here to be a caretaker…” She sighs and checks her watch, giving it a disappointed look. “… And this run was supposed to be quick…”

“I cad mbadage ‘till Hariba gets bagk...” He drags one big sniff, which doesn’t really help, being surprised himself at how congested he sounds. “Thagks a lot, really. I did’t catch your dambe?”

“Najika…” She says to the teen, giving him one last gloss over, being hit with a slight feeling of unease. “… Tell Harima to call me when you see him… And take care…” She mumbled a ‘sorry’ to the teen on the way out and closed the door behind her.

Yuko lets out a weak sigh, being careful not to trigger the persistent itch lurking in the back of his throat, and lays down on the couch, folding his arms, trying to provide him with at least a little body heat. The rough couch cushions made it difficult for him to get comfortable, but he shrugged it off, trying to make the best of it, seeing how he wasn’t confident in having enough strength to reach his bed alone without falling out onto the carpet. He flips over to his side, and closes his eyes, trying to get some rest and hopefully stop the room from slowly spinning around him, wanting Harima to be the next person to awaken him.

[lavsnz]

💙🤍 for your girls? 😊

hi! thank you so much for the req, i love getting fic reqs for my girls! i loved writing this one & playing more with cold & flu symptoms rather than just sneezes! sorry it took me so long, school started up again so i'm getting adjusted to all of that. thank you again for the ask & i hope you enjoy!! i used these ocs & the prompts are from this prompt list!

Rowan couldn’t wait to get out of practice, which was rare, especially for off season training. However, she felt absolutely horrible. She was having coughing fits every other minute which was making her wheeze. Her nose was running and she couldn’t stop shivering. She was in the middle of leg presses when the team captain came up to her.

“Rowan, I appreciate your dedication but you are so miserable. Go home or go see Paisley, take care of yourself.”

“Are you sure, Lily? I can keep going, we only have forty-five minutes left,” Rowan says with a sniffle.

“You know I love you, and I mean this in the most respectful way, but I really don’t want to catch whatever you have. It doesn’t sound good, you should really take care of yourself,” Lily responds, and hands Rowan her water bottle with a sad smile. Rowan takes the hint and gets off the machine. She heads to the locker room to freshen up before texting Paisley that she’s on her way.

When Rowan gets to the apartment, she’s met with an upbeat and bubbly Paisley.

“Babe! Did practice end early? I think this is a record, you’re usually one of the last ones out!” Paisley exclaims, pulling Rowan into a big hug.

Rowan pulls away to cough into her elbow. “No, not exactly. I was told to go home, I think I’m catching something,” Rowan answers, wiping her nose with her sleeve as she sniffles.

“Oh, darling, sounds like you do have a bit of something, huh?” Paisley asks, a frown appearing on her face.

Rowan nods and wraps her arms around Paisley again, hoping it’ll make her warm as more shivers run through her. Paisley holds her close and rocks them back and forth. They stay in that comfortable silence for a few moments before Paisley breaks it.

“Rowan, you’re shivering. Let’s get you to the couch under some warm blankets.”

Rowan responds with a coughing fit.

“Then I’ll grab you something for that horrible cough,” Paisley says, leading Rowan to the couch.

Once Rowan sits down Paisley covers her in blankets, making sure as much of Rowan is covered as possible. Rowan goes to thank her but lets out a hPXTch into the blankets on her chest instead.

Paisley tuts at Rowan. “Bless you. Baby you shouldn’t stifle, it’s only gonna hurt you and I’m sure it doesn’t feel good on your poor little nose,” Paisley says, leaning down to press a kiss to Rowan’s nose. She leans back for a moment before pressing her lips to Rowan’s forehead. Paisley lets her lips linger there for a moment before pressing three kisses in quick succession to Rowan’s forehead.

“I dow what you’re doigng,” Rowan says with a big sniffle.

“I had to check honey, and you are a bit warm. Let me go grab a few things real quick and I’ll be right back, okay?” Paisley asks.

Rowan nods and watches Paisley leave the room. She pulls out her phone to answer a text from Lily and lets her know that she’s at Paisley’s and going to be taking some medicine to hopefully get over whatever this is quickly. Lily replies letting Rowan know that she can only come back to practice once she’s better (said with love and care of course).

When Paisley comes back, she sits down next to Rowan and lays out everything she brought on the coffee table next to the hand sanitizer that’s already there. Paisley grabbed cold and flu medicine, a thermometer, some handkerchiefs, fever reducers, decongestants, water bottles, and Rowan’s favorite cough drops.

“Okay, let me take your temperature and we’ll go from there. We’ll get some medicine in you and put on a tv show so we can just relax. Sound good?” Paisley asks, kissing Rowan’s forehead twice.

“Yeah. I’b sorry I cabme ober here such a mbess snff,” Rowan says sadly, sniffling.

“Ro, you know I never mind. Open up, let’s take your temp,” Paisley replies, rubbing Rowan’s back as she slides the thermometer in her mouth. Paisley presses kisses to the top of Rowan’s head while they wait for the thermometer to beep. When it does, Rowan sneezes a harsh hheeIISHOO’oo and a HEESHIEEW into her hands. She looks up at Paisley with her hands still over her face, hoping Paisley will realize what Rowan needs. Paisley laughs and grabs two handkerchiefs from the coffee table and the hand sanitizer.

“Bless you twice! It’s okay love, you can take your hands away from your face, I’ll get you all cleaned up,” Paisley says softly.

Rowan does remove her hands from her face and grabs the handkerchief Paisley left on her lap for Rowan to use and wipes her hands. She then takes the hand sanitizer to wash her hands and lets Paisley finish wiping under her nose. Before Paisley pulls away, Rowan shakes her head and sneezes once more into the handkerchief Paisley is holding.

“God bless you babe. Goodness your nose is so full, blow please,” Paisley instructs, still holding the handkerchief to Rowan’s nose.

Rowan does as Paisley says and waits while Paisley cleans her up again. “Thagng you, baby, SNFF,” Rowan snuffles.

“Any time, love. Any time,” Paisley replies, kissing Rowan’s forehead and pulling Rowan to her chest.

Rowan has a feeling that the next two or three days won’t be fun, but she knows that Paisley will make it easier. Paisley always does. Whether it’s taking Rowan’s temperature, giving Rowan medicine to help her feel better, cleaning up Rowan’s sneezes, making soup and tea, or even things as simple as cuddles and forehead kisses, Paisley always makes being sick better by just being her and being there. Rowan cuddles into Paisley’s chest as the theme song to their favorite comfort baking show starts, grateful she has the best girlfriend anyone could ask for.

[marvelousstevetony]

Ahhh, if you are interested/inspired, maybe a ficlet with 🌙 & 😪? Steve/anyone would be cute, but any ship or character you feel like writing! Thank you :’))

This prompt is so cute! Hope you’ll enjoy this short ficlet of Steve with a small cold and Bucky being the sweetest boyfriend <3

***

“You alright?”

Bucky frowns when Steve’s body gives an almost imperceptible shiver. Most people would miss it, but most people aren’t Bucky, who is always incredibly attentive when it comes to Steve— sometimes to the point of absurdity, which Steve usually pretends to mind but really doesn’t.

“I’m fine,” Steve says with a small smile. It would almost be believable, almost, had Steve not ended the sentence with a sniffle and yet another shiver.

“Jesus, Stevie, you’re shaking,” Bucky points out and places a comforting hand on small of Steve’s back. “Are you cold- of course you’re cold! Why aren’t you wearing a jacket?”

The two of them had decided to go for an evening walk, get some fresh air after a long day of meetings with the team. It’s the middle of April and the weather is lovely, though, it is still quite chilly, the air cool and brisk.

Steve shrugs. “‘Snff! Didn’t think it’d be necesarry. SnffSNF! It’s no big deal, Buck.”

With an eyeroll, Bucky begins fumbling with his jacket, takes it off and puts it around Steve’s shoulders.

“Bucky, you don’t- snf! Now, you’re the one without a jacket, dumbass.” Steve argues, though, he’s grateful for the warmth and comfort that comes with wearing his boyfriend’s clothing. It smells like him— the fruity shampoo he uses mixed with the cologne Steve got him for Christmas.

“Yeah, well, I’m not the one who’s currently fighting off a cold,” Bucky smirks, causing Steve to blush shyly. He didn’t think anyone had noticed the small sniffles and sneezes that had been scattered throughout the day, but apperently, Bucky has. Attentive, Steve reminds himself.

“I’m okay,” Steve tries, but, somehow, the World seems to always want to prove Steve wrong as a sneeze suddenly creeps up on him.

“hurrESHH’oo!”

Steve quickly turns away from Bucky, aiming the sneeze in the crook of his elbow, then looks up with bleary eyes. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

Bucky just chuckles and lays an around Steve’s broad frame, pulling him into a hug from the side, resting their heads against each other’s as they continue wandering around the city.

The sky is ablaze with the colours of the setting sun; a perfect mixture of pink and orange, a sight that never ceases to calm them. The golden rays bath the buildings in a warm light, the skyscrapers creating long shadows on the ground. If they look closely, they can see the small specks of dust swirling in the shaft of the sunlight.

They stop for a minute, taking in the view as the sun lowers. They stand in silence for a while until Steve’s nose twitches.

“Huh-heIISHhoo!”

“Bless you, Stevie. Maybe we should head home?” Bucky murmurs and nuzzles his face into the crook of Steve’s neck, placing soft pecks along his jawline, and Steve can’t help but melt at the nickname and sweet, affectionate kisses.

“Hm, maybe... snf!! You’re probably cold now, anyways, since I stole your jacket.”

“I’ll be okay as long as you promise to cuddle with me when we get home.” Bucky says and places another gentle kiss on Steve’s cheek.

“You sap,” Steve grins. “But yeah, I’ll cuddle with you, octopus.”

They both chuckle.

“I can’t help it. I like holding you close,” Bucky defends.

Steve smiles with a deep sigh. “This is so nice, though. Can we stay for a couple more minutes?” he asks pleadingly and no one, especially not Bucky, can say no to those puppy-dog eyes.

“Of course.”

As they stare off into the horizon, the noise of the bustling city seems to fade. At last, the only thing they hear is the sound of their breathing harmonizing.

“It’s beautiful.” Steve says. His voice is low and full of emotion, almost as a whisper.

Bucky turns his head to look at Steve. His hair is messy from being ruffled by the wind, his cheeks are flushed pink, matching the tip of his red-tinted nose. Standing there, in Bucky’s worn-out jacket, face lit up by gold beams, Steve looks so young, and innocent, and goddamn perfect. Bucky wonders if he’ll ever stop feeling this kind of adoration towards Steve, but he already knows he won’t.

“It is.” Bucky agrees, his lips curling into a wry smile. Steve might be talking about the sunset, but Bucky sure isn’t.

“Breathtaking.”

***

[fluffyllamas-23]

All I can say is poor Bucky.  Shoutout to @strange-capers for helping me with the plot lol

There’s some mention of death and like...maybe some very brief mention of suicidal thoughts (I don’t even know if you can consider it that, but I’m just being cautious)

Life was never the same after Bucky’s older sister passed. Life was never the same after that asshole decided to get behind the wheel after drinking.  Life was never the same after he ran the red light, and plowed straight into the driver’s side, right into Becca.

Bucky had only been eighteen at the time, and even though it’s been three years, that night is still ingrained in his memory.  

They had decided to go out to see a movie, Bucky had been stressed with his first semester in college, and Becca (who was just about to turn 30 at the time) decided that he needed a night away from his books and papers.  

They didn’t even make it to the movie. Instead of their night being filled with a movie, and dinner, and laughter and fun...it was filled with trauma, and hospitals, and pain, and loss.

Becca died on impact, which is the only thing that brought him comfort.  

At least she didn’t suffer.  

Bucky, though...he wished he had died that night, too.  

He walked away from the accident with a severe concussion, broken ribs, and an arm that had been so crushed and mangled, that they had to amputate.  Doctors said he was lucky to be alive, but after losing his big sister (his beautiful, wonderful, caring sister who was his best friend, and the person he went to for everything) he didn’t feel so lucky.  

He met Steve shortly after the accident, while he was still getting used to the prosthetic. Steve, who is a tall, muscled jock, who was so patient and kind and wonderful and understanding, it made things a little bit easier.

He had lost his mom when he was younger, and so he understood.

He was there, he let Bucky be upset, and angry, and scream because it wasn’t fair that this incredible person who did so much good in the world, who dedicated her life to working with special needs kids, had everything taken from her. It wasn’t fair that the good-for-nothing, drunk fuck up walked away with barely a scratch and ripped apart Bucky’s entire family and left them reeling.

One day, almost two years after Becca was killed, after Bucky had been going to therapy for a while, after he finally started coming to terms with her death, after he stopped blaming himself, Bucky realized that maybe, just maybe, he liked Steve as more than just a friend.

And the rest was history.

Steve didn’t look at him like he was broken, Steve loved Bucky for who he was, scars and imperfections and all.

*

Steve walks through the door, and deposits his bag on the floor with a groan.

He’s exhausted - classes had been hard, work had been taxing, and he’s just looking forward to spending the rest of the night on the couch, cuddling with Bucky.

However, he’s greeted by a hoarse “ih’tsch! Hh’ihtsh! Hhihhtch!,” all of which sound congested and itchy enough for him to frown.

“Buck?” Steve asks, closing the door behind him.  

When there’s no answer, he walks into the living room and stops in his tracks when he sees Bucky sitting on the couch, looking through photo albums, pressing a tissue to his nose as he sniffles incessantly.

“Hey,” he whimpers, choking on a sob as he stares down at the pictures.

“You alright?”

Bucky looks up at him, just barely holding back tears as he bites down on his lip, “I miss her.”

“I know,” Steve says softly, walking over to him.  “Are you feeling alright?”

Bucky shakes his head and gives a little cough as he rubs at his forehead, “no...my head...huh’tsch! *snff* guh...I just...I miss her so fucking much it hurts.”  

Steve sits down next to him and presses his hand to the back of Bucky’s neck and hums in disapproval, “bless you...you’re warm. Have you been looking at pictures of her for long?”

Bucky bites back another sob and buries his face in his hands.  Steve rubs between his shoulder blades, closes the photo album, and then pulls Bucky into his lap.

Steve tries to keep Bucky away from pictures of Becca when he’s sick.  It’s been three years since the accident, and after a lot of therapy, he’s finally in a better place. He still misses her, and nothing will ever be able to completely fill the hole her death left, but he’s handling it better. When he’s sick, though, it seems like all of the progress is lost, and he can’t stop thinking about her.  

“How about I get you some medicine, and we can watch a movie, huh? Get your mind off of her and how you’re feeling.”

“That sounds nice,” he says in a tiny voice, Steve’s shirt balled up in his fists.  

When Bucky doesn’t make any effort to move, Steve kisses the top of his head, “do you want to come with me?”

“No.”

“You’ve gotta let me up then.”

“No.”

Steve chuckles lightly, “honey, come on.  Just for a second. I want to get a thermometer and something to help you feel better.”

He groans, coughing a little, “fine.”

“I’ll be right back, I promise. Two minutes, you can time me.”

True to his word, he only took two minutes, and once he takes Bucky’s temperature (101.5) and has given him medicine, Steve sits back next to him and lets Bucky snuggle into his side.

“Did you just start feeling bad today? You’re starting to sound pretty sick.”

Bucky nods, face pressed against Steve’s chest, “I stayed home from classes and work.”

“Probably for the best, honey,” Steve says softly. “Are you okay?”

“No...not really,” Bucky sniffles, rubbing his nose on Steve’s shirt absentmindedly.

“I’m so sorry,” he sighs,  “what do you feel like watching?”

He shrugs listlessly, “you pick.”

*

Bucky is much worse by the next morning.  He had stumbled out onto the couch from the bedroom in the middle of the night, too congested to sleep, and too achey to be flat on his back.  He spent the rest of the night drifting in and out of sleep, and when he wasn’t sleeping, he was muffling coughs and sneezes into the blankets.  By the time Steve wakes up, Bucky is a bleary, congested mess.  His throat feels like it’s been ripped to shreds, and each swallow feels like knives are being shoved down it.  

Steve frowns, walking over to him, “you look so, so sick.  Are you okay?”

Bucky shivers, curling into himself, “I feel awful.”

“Have you been out here for long? I didn’t even realize you left.”

“Beend out here all ndight,” he rasps,  “Heh!...HehEHtsch! Nnntsh! *Snff* ugh...I’mb so sick of s-sndeezi’gg-ehtsch! *snff* guh.”

“Bless you,” Steve frowns.  He was only on day two of whatever the hell he had managed to catch, and he already sounded worn out and tired. “You’ve been out here all night? Why didn’t you wake me?”

Bucky coughs into the crook of his elbow, “you have...umb...I cand’t rebember what...but you have a lot today...didnd’t wandt to wake you up.”

“I appreciate that, but I’d like to know when you’re not feeling well so I can keep you company and make sure you’re okay.”

Bucky was right, though.  Steve does have a big day.  He, unfortunately, has something in every class, whether it be a test, a group presentation, or a paper due, which means that he can’t stay home and take care of his very sick boyfriend.

“Text me if you start feeling worse,” Steve says, kissing Bucky’s forehead.  He frowns as he pulls away, and presses the back of his fingers to Bucky’s temple, “I think your fever might have gone up...you feel warmer.”

Bucky groans, “I’mb finde, Stevie...just...go to class.  Good luck ond everythi’gg.”

“I’m serious, Buck. I’ll have my phone on me.”

He sniffles, “go. I’ll be finde.”

Steve sighs and cups his cheek, “I just want you to be okay...I hate seeing you like this.  I wish I could do something.”

“It’s okay.”

When Bucky finally convinces Steve to leave (after Steve makes sure he has everything he may possibly need), he rolls over in bed coughing.  The center of his chest burns and aches, and the coughing makes his headache and sore throat flare.  

His eyes fill up with tears.  

He hates being alone when he’s sick; he’s always hated bit.  Becca always used to sit with him when he didn’t feel well - she always told him stories to get his mind off things, and if that didn’t work, they would watch movies, or play board games. Their mom was never great when it came to germs, so Becca would be the one to take care of him.  She would make him soup, and tea, and just...make sure he was okay.

God, he missed her.  

*

As soon as Steve turned in his paper, he booked it back to his car, and sped back to their apartment.  

Being away from Bucky for so long when he was this sick was making Steve anxious.

He had only been sick a handful of times since Becca passed, and Steve still has no idea how to help him through it. It’s killing him to see Bucky in this much pain and not be able to do anything about it.

“Bucky?” Steve says softly, walking into the apartment.

Bucky is sprawled out on the couch, eyelids half open as he stares blankly ahead of him.

Steve crouches in front of him, and presses a hand to his cheek.

“Stevie?” He rasps.

“Yeah, hey. How are you feeling?”

Bucky just shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Okay, Okay. How about some more medicine? Have you had any lately?”

“Ndo.”

“I think your fever is up,” he says grabbing the thermometer from the coffee table before he sticks it in Bucky’s ear. “Do you feel worse?”

“Uh-huh,” he sniffles, pitching forward with a trio of tired, scratchy and congested sneezes. Steve rubs his back as he groans, “sorry...mbeant to cover.”

The thermometer beeps, and Steve inhales sharply when 103.1 flashes on the screen.

“It’s okay. I’ll be right back.”

“Why’d that guy have to drink and drive?” He asks, voice thick as he tries to hold back tears. “Why did-why did he have to do that? Wh-why couldnd’t he have called a cab? Or a friend? Why couldnd’t he have just waited?”

“I don’t know, I really don’t,” Steve says quietly, cupping his cheek.

“It’s ndot fair,” he whimpers, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes.

Steve wipes them away with his thumbs, “I know, I know.”

“She should still be here...she always wandted to be a mbomb...she ndever got that opportundity...she would have beend the best mbomb. It’s ndot fair.”

Steve swallows the lump in his throat, and blinks back tears of his own, “I know.”

Bucky goes into a miserable, lung-seizing coughing fit that sounds like it’s tearing at his throat, and is so full of congestion that Steve visibly flinches.

Bucky sniffles, “I dond’t feel very well.”

“I know,” Steve repeats, smoothing Bucky’s hair back.

“I’mb exhausted.”

“How about I get you something to help you sleep?”

Bucky nods, “please.”

“I’ll be right back,” Steve says, kissing Bucky’s cheek.

He closes his eyes, muffling a cough into the blankets.

He’s a mess, and he hates it.

When Steve comes back, Bucky is asleep.  He wakes briefly when Steve prods him to take the medicine, but then he’s asleep again.

Steve just hopes that this is the worst it’ll get, because he’s not sure how much more of this Bucky can take before he loses it.

He pulls the blanket over Bucky’s shoulder, kisses his burning temple, and then goes into the kitchen to start some soup and tea.

[fluffyllamas-23]

Prompt fill for @kaycee003 (thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much for sending this in).  Okay, so the thing is that I don’t usually write so many characters all at once.  I hope this doesn’t suck XD

Also, I’m making this a college AU, hope you don’t mind! Anyways, here you go, love :)

Every group had a leader, someone to take the reigns when it came to making decisions.  Someone had to make decisions - Lance, Keith, Hunk and Pidge were all pretty indecisive (and they would spend three hours just trying to figure out a place to eat), so Shiro had to step up to the plate. He didn’t mind though, he loved it, actually. He had kind of adopted the big brother role of the group, too. He was always taking care of everyone, making sure they were all happy and healthy. Shiro was always there, it seemed. Day or night, they could call him if they needed something, or just wanted to hang out.  

“Hey, guys!” Lance chirped, walking over to the table outside the student union building. He sat down, dropping his bag on the ground next to him. “How goes it?” Hunk looked up from his textbook and notepad.  “Hey, man.” Lance looked around with a frown.  Something was missing, or rather, someone.  “Where’s Shiro?” Pidge looked over at the math assignment Hunk was working on and pointed to the third problem.  “That’s wrong.” “Ah, shit.” He groaned, erasing his work. Pidge looked up at Lance. “I think he said something about having to write a paper.  He said he’d catch up with us tonight.” “Speaking of writing a paper.” Keith started, standing up. “I should probably go write mine.  Where are we meeting for dinner?” “Probably here.” Hunk said, looking up from his work. “I have so much work I still have to do tonight.” “Yeah, good plan.” Lance nodded.

Shiro wasn’t working on a paper. He had woken up feeling weak and feverish, and just sick.  He liked to be by himself when he didn’t feel well, so he had plans to avoid everyone for the next few days.  

Around six forty five, his phone buzzed with a text, and he stared bleary-eyed at the screen.

‘Shiro! We’re grabbing dinner.  Come join us. how’s the paper?‘  Pidge’s text read.   He went into a coughing fit, shivering miserably as he burrowed himself deeper into the comforter.  ‘Still working on it.  I won’t be able to make it to dinner, sorry.’

Pidge frowned at the text.  “Shiro says he’s still working on his paper.” “We should bring him food or something.” Keith said.   “I get the feeling...” She trailed off. “I’m gonna go check on him, see you guys in a little while.” “I’ll go with you.” Hunk said.  

Shiro woke up to a pounding on his door.  He let out a thick sniffle, and after a few moments of hesitation, he got out of bed, walked out of his room and through his living room, and opened the door to his apartment. He stared at the two people in front of him blankly, swaying on his feet.

Pidge and Hunk stared at him for a few moments, both of their mouths forming an ‘O’ as they took in his appearance.  His face was covered with a sheen of sweat, and was completely pale aside from the bright red fever flush splattered across his cheekbones.  His nose was red, too, as if he’d been rubbing at it for a while now.  He looked exhausted, too.  There were dark bags under his eyes, signaling to them that he’d gone multiple nights without sleeping.  He was trembling and shivering, despite how warm his room was.

“You...holy shit, I thought something was up.” Pidge frowned, standing on her tip toes and reaching up to feel his cheek.  She inhaled sharply, and then put a hand on his arm.  “Bed.  Now.” He blinked once, and then recognition and a weak smile crossed his face. “Oh hey, guys.” “Damn, he’s out of it.” Hunk said, nudging him gently towards bed. Pidge dialed Lance’s number, staring at Shiro in concern.  Hunk had gotten him to bed, pulled the blanket over him, and had a hand on his forehead. “Hey, Pidge!” “Hey...could you guys pick up some soup and tea for Shiro?” “When does Shiro ever eat soup? He hates it. He hates tea, too.  Do you even know him?” Pidge rolled her eyes.  “Yeah, well, he eats it when he’s sick.” There was a pause, and then a muffled. “Shiro’s sick.” “Lance?” “Shiro’s sick?! What-is he okay? He’s never sick.” Lance said, concern and panic lacing his voice. “Yeah, I have no clue.  Could you bring a thermometer too? I don’t think he has one - actually, hang on.” She said, and walked over to Shiro.  “Do you have a thermometer, Shiro?” He blinked heavily, and then frowned in confusion.  “A thermom-huh?” “Never mind.” She said, shaking her head.  “Lance? Yeah, get a thermometer.  And medicine.”

* 
He was more lucid after an hour of his friends trying to get his fever down.  It was pushing 104 earlier, but now it was down to 101.  Hunk was near panic, he must have asked twenty times if they should take him to the emergency room.

“What? What’re you guys doing here?” Shiro croaked.   “Well I thought something was up.” Pidge said. “Yeah and then we GOT HERE and you were DYING.” Hunk cried. Shiro groaned at the pounding in his head. “Could you maybe...uh...take it down a notch.  My head.” “Oops.  Sorry.” He whispered.   Shiro went into a coughing fit, and rolled on his stomach to hide his head under his pillow.   “Hey.” Keith said, pulling the pillow off his head.  “Shiro, look at me.” Shiro tensed up, and pulled the blankets over his head.  “Ktt'schh! Kihh'tschh! K'hihtsHH! *Snff* Nnngh.” “Shiro.” Keith said softly, putting a hand on his back.  “Come on, man.  Sit up for us, please.” Shiro sniffled, and pushed himself up into a sitting position, his head lolling forward as he slumped back into his pillows.   “M’not feeling great.” He muttered as Keith pressed a hand to his forehead.   “Yeah, no kidding.” Pidge said, quirking a brow at him.  “Are you okay? What do you need?” Shiro just shrugged, his eyes drooping.   “Hey, how about we watch a movie?” Lance suggested.  “We can set up the blankets and everything for him...keep an eye on him.” “How’s that sound, Shiro?” Keith asked, looking down at his friend. Shiro nodded.  “Mmhmm...sounds fine. I have blankets in the closet.” “Alright, up you go, buddy.” Keith said, pulling his blankets down.  Shiro got out of bed, and trudged out to his living room.  Once he was curled up against the arm of the couch, Hunk draped the blanket over him.

They all squished together on the couch next to Shiro, and settled in for a night caring for their sick friend.  

[fluffyllamas-23]

For @iluvthesnz who sent me this wonderful prompt.  She’s wonderful and amazing and new to the community (so give her some love)

Spencer was exhausted. He was used to being tired - he was in the middle of getting his doctorate, and had spent countless sleepless nights researching and writing papers. His days were jam packed with classes, and work as he struggled to stay sane. Except, this didn’t feel like his usual tiredness. This was deeper, it reached his bones and left him feeling like his entire body was too heavy for comfort.

He’d gotten two weeks off as a vacation, and he had fully intended to spend that time relaxing with Harper. Unfortunately, she had come down with an awful cold, that ended up turning into a sinus infection and bronchitis and left her completely miserable and drained. The first week, she spent the majority of her time sleeping and generally felt like shit.  By the second week, she was feeling better but was crabby and the two of them were going crazy.

“Spencer, I feel better, will you just stop?” She spat from her spot on the couch. 

She loved the man, but she was sick of staying in bed and on the couch. She wanted to be up and around, but Spencer had been overly concerned and protective since she got sick and she wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

He sighed in exasperation, throwing his hands in the air. “Fine. Do what you want. I have to go do homework anyways.”

“I’m going to the store,” she said quickly. “Do you need anything?”

“No.”

Harper smiled softly at him, wrapped her arms around his neck and then pecked his cheek and mouth. “Thank you for taking care of me. I know I’ve been a bitch.”

“Yeah,” he smirked,  “but you weren’t feeling well, so I won’t hold it against you.”

She chuckled. “Alright, I’m leaving. Have fun with your papers.”

He made a face. “Doubtful. Hey, I’m almost finished with one of them, will you proofread it for me?”

“Yeah, sure. I probably won’t be home for a while. I’m sick of being stuck inside.”

Harper didn’t return for four hours. When she got back, Spencer was still at his desk, typing furiously on his laptop. He was staring intently at the screen, his tongue poking out from between his lips slightly. She was tempted to interrupt him, because she wanted to spend actual time with him when she wasn’t sick, but she knew he needed to get work done.

She had fallen asleep around eight, still drained from her recent illness. When she woke up around four, she patted the spot next to her groggily, hoping to find Spencer so she could snuggle up to him. She pulled herself out of bed and walked over to where he was.

“Spencer.” Harper mumbled sleepily. She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him and rested her chin on the top of her head. “It’s four in the morning. Come to bed. You have work in four hours.”

“Why are you awake?” He asked, grogginess in his voice.

She yawned, “I woke up and you weren’t there.”

“Is it really already four?” He asked, eyelids drooping in exhaustion. His eyes were burning and throbbing from the number of hours he had spent staring at his computer screen.

“It is, and you’re going to hate yourself when you have to wake up for work.” She grinned, putting her hand on his back.

He practically collapsed into bed, his eyes closing as he immediately fell asleep. Harper climbed in bed next to him and pulled the blankets over him.

Three and a half hours later, his alarm went off.

“Noooo.” Spencer moaned.

Harper was already up for the day, more than eager to return to work. When he managed to drag himself into the kitchen, she inhaled sharply.

“Spencer.”

“Yeah?”

She frowned. “Are you hating yourself right about now?”

Yes. Yes he absolutely did right now. “No, I’m fine.”

“You look exhausted. You should call out and get some sleep. Three and a half hours isn’t nearly enough.”

He shook his head. “No, we need the money. I’ll be fine, Harper.”

She sighed. “Please don’t run yourself into the ground. We can live if you don’t go to work for a day or two. Really. You take care of yourself - you could probably use a few days of just resting.”

“I’m fine.”

*

The rest of the week dragged, and his symptoms came on so slowly that he almost didn’t notice he was getting sick.  

The exhaustion had come on long before anything else. It had been so constant and so present, that he had just come to accept and ignore it.

The headache was next - it started off in his forehead, which he blamed on not drinking enough water. No matter how much water he drank, the headache just didn’t want to go away. Instead, it just got worse.  Slowly, it  moved from his forehead, to his temples, to the base of his skull. Eventually, his entire head was throbbing with an intense pressure that made his eyes feel heavy and swollen.

The sore throat came after the headache.  It felt raw and swollen, and each time he swallowed, it felt as if someone had shoved knives down his throat.  Talking hurt, too.  Unfortunately, he worked in retail, and his job required him to talk to his customers, which was doing wonders on his throat.

It was Friday before he realized he was definitely coming down with something. A big indication was how frustrated and irritable he was - he was typically very even keeled, but right now, he was beyond annoyed.  

He had just come off of a nine hour, very busy shift.  They were short staffed, and he hardly even had time for his lunch break.  There must have been something in the water, because it seemed like every customer was angry about something, and he had lost count of the number of times he had been yelled at.

“Spencer!” Harper groaned the moment he walked through the door. “You left your shit everywhere.  I thought you said you would pick it up?”

“What the hell is the big deal?!” He exploded, throwing his arms in the air.

Her eyes widened. “I just-”

“-I’m tired, Harper.  I’m sorry I forgot to pick up my fucking jacket and shoes.”

Her mouth went dry.  This was bad. “Spence, I-”

He exhaled sharply, clenching his jaw.  “I’m going on a walk.”

“Spencer!” She called after him, eyebrows furrowing together.  What the hell was that?

She texted him once, asking him to come back home so they could talk.  When he didn’t reply, she called him a few times, leaving messages with each missed call. 

She decided to just leave him alone to cool off.  Harper knew he had been stressed and tired, and that something was obviously bothering him.  Hopefully, the walk would allow him to clear his mind and blow off some steam.  

When he still hadn’t returned three hours later, Harper became worried.  When it started pouring and he still wasn’t back, she became panicked.  She grabbed her coat, purse and keys, and got in her car and drove off in search of her husband.  

It was twenty minutes before she was able to find him, and she was near tears.  

Spencer was curled in a ball, his arms wrapped around his body and on a bench.  She nearly drove over the curb in her attempt to park quickly and get to him.

“Spencer.” She said quickly, crouching next to him.  “Babe, look at me, open your eyes.”

He forced his eyes open as soon as she put a hand on his burning cheek.  “Harper?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Hey, let’s get you into the car, you’ve got a fever.”

“Nnnngh…I d-don’t…hhh…hhn’gSHH! *Snff* feel well.”

“Bless you. Come on, you need to get out of the rain.”

He nodded after a couple of moments, and she helped him to stand up.  Spencer slumped into her, and she grunted as she struggled to hold him up.  

“Okay, okay, Spence? You’re going to need to help me a little. I can’t carry you to the car.”

He managed to stand up straight, but stared down at his feet, as if he was willing his feet to move.  After a minute, they seemed to work, and he forced himself to the car.

As soon as he was in the passenger’s seat, Harper turned the car on and blasted the heater, aiming the vents at him. She chewed on her bottom lip anxiously as she rifled through the back seat, looking for a towel or something she could use to warm him up. He was shivering miserably, his entire body trembling as he was slumped against the window.

“Hih'TSSHHEW! HITSCHIEW! Hihh-hiHTSHHH!! H-hihh…nnnngh *snff*”

Each sneeze sounded like it was ripping from his throat. They were full of congestion, and sounded like they hurt.

Harper couldn’t find anything, and muttered expletives under her breath when she remembered she had cleaned out her car the other day. Normally she had a ton of blankets and towels in her trunk, but she figured she wouldn’t be needing them anytime soon.

The drive home was mostly silent - the only sounds being him sniffling, sneezing and coughing. She was too worried to try and keep up and conversation, and he felt too shitty to do so.

He was too weak to help much, but She had managed to get him from the car, up the stairs, into the shower, and onto the couch pretty much by herself. Her muscles were burning, but she could finally focus on getting him better.

“Tha’gk you.” Spencer rasped when Harper handed him a hot cup of tea.

She nodded, eyebrows furrowed as she pressed the back of her hand to his temple. “Is this why you were so mad when you got home? You’re burning up.”

His eyes filled with tears as he remembered the exchange he’d had with Harper. “I’b sorry.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” She soothed, cupping his cheek. “Why are you apologizing?”

“I yelled at you.” He whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried not to burst into tears.

He hiccuped, his breath shuddering as he did burst into tears. Harper took the tea from him, placed it on the coffee table, and then sat next to her weepy husband and pulled him into a hug.

He buried his face in her neck, and she rubbed his back soothingly.

After a few minutes, he calmed down slightly.

“You okay?”

His breath hitched, “Hhh…*snff* Hih'TSSHHEW!HITSCHIEW!…Hihh-hiHTSHHH! H-hihh…h-heh…*snff*

“Bless you, Spence.”

“Hhh…th-tha’gks…eh-heh…F-fuck-*snff* Hih’TSSHHEW! *snff* *snff*”

Harper handed him a tissue, and then went off in search of the thermometer and some medicine.

When she took his temperature, and it beeped in close to 104 degrees, she all but had a heart attack.

No wonder he was so emotional.

“Hey, Spence?” She asked softly, crouching in front of him. He was lying on his side on the couch, not totally with it. She clutched the fever reducers in her hand so hard her knuckles turned white. “Can you look at me? I need to get your fever down - will you take these for me?”

Once she had managed to get him to take the medicine, she got to work trying to get his temperature down.

When Spencer came to next, he immediately wished he was sleeping again. He was stretched out on the couch, his legs on Harper’s lap as she sat with her head hanging back, fast asleep.

He felt markedly worse than when he got home from work, and he let out an involuntary whimper.

“Spence?” Harper mumbled tiredly, looking over at him.

“What happened?” He sniffled, squeezing his eyes shut. “Why does it feel like I got hit by a trai’d?”

Harper massaged her aching neck. “You spiked a pretty high fever. I think it’s gone down, you seem more with it.”

He went into a harsh coughing fit, his lungs sounded like they were scraping together and trying to eject themselves from his chest.

“Ow.” He moaned, rolling on his side. He curled into himself, but Harper pulled at his arm.

“Sit up. You can’t be lying down if you’re coughing like that, it’ll make it worse.”

He groaned in protest. “Leave be alo’de.”

“I’m sorry.” She sighed. “I know you hate me right now, I hated you when you did this to me, but that sounds bad. You need to be sitting up.”

He grumbled something under his breath, but once he started coughing after a particularly intense sneezing fit, he sat up begrudgingly.

Spencer immediately slumped into her, resting his head on her shoulder.

“I do’dt feel well.” He croaked.

“I know. I might be calling your doctor in the morning.  I don’t like the sound of that cough.”

“That’s ud’ecessary.” He sniffled.

“No, it’s very necessary.” She frowned.  He sniffled again, and rubbed at his aching forehead. 

“I yelled at you, right?” He asked, regret coloring his tone.

“Yeah, but it’s okay.”

“I’b sorry…I didn’t bead to.” He sniffled.

“I know. Spencer, it’s okay. I’m not mad at you. I was more worried, I thought something might be up.”

“By head is killi’dg be.”

“I have something that might help. Are you feeling up to walking?”

“Depe’ds…what is it?”

“Steam bowl.”

His brain still felt too fuzzy, and he wasn’t entirely sure what she was talking about.

“Huh?”

“Just…trust me, yeah? My mom always had me do it when I was sick, and it helps break up the congestion.”

He rubbed his eyes tiredly. He was willing to try anything. “Okay.”

Her face lit up. “Okay, sit tight. Try getting some more sleep, I’ll wake you up when it’s ready.”

He was exhausted, but he was so miserably stuffed up that he was having a hard time falling back asleep. Not to mention that he was sitting up and that was not an easy position to sleep in.

*

“Alright, ready?” Harper asked, holding a towel in one hand.

Spencer was sitting at the table, fighting his urge to curl up on the floor and sleep. He never thought he’d see the day where a tile floor looked like a good place to sleep, but here he was.

“I guess.” He mumbled, sniffling. As soon as he put his head over the bowl of hot water, Harper put the towel over his head and bowl, trapping the steam.

His nose immediately started running, and he sniffled desperately.

“Hih'TSSHHEW! HITSCHIEW! hiHTSHHH! Ehh…Hih'TSSHHEW! HITSCHIEW-TSCHIEW! ..Hihh-hiHTSHHH! *snff* *snff*”

Harper was sitting in the chair next to him, rubbing patterns on his back absentmindedly as she yawned.

After a few minutes, he took the towel off of his head.

“Hey, that worked better than I thought it would.” He said, blinking tiredly.

She shot him a tired grin. “Yeah? Ready to get some sleep? It’s almost three.”

He rubbed his aching forehead. “I have work in a few hours.”

“Yeah, no. You’re not going to work. You need to rest.”

“But-”

“-no buts. You’re sick.”

“I feel better.” He muttered.

She quirked a brow, “temporarily. You’re not going to classes either. You’re staying in bed until you’re feeling better.”

He groaned in defeat, too tired to fight her. “Okay.”

She nodded sharply. “Good. Now let’s go to sleep.”

Harper and Spencer stood up, and he trailed after her as she walked into their bedroom.

“Goodnight.” Harper said, kissing his slightly warm cheek.

Spencer curled up to her. “Goodnight. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” She mumbled, eyelids closing as she drifted to sleep.