#sick day fluff

[starstruckunknown-princess]

I’ll Do Anything

Pairing: Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Warnings: None, just fluff!

Summary: After a mission with Steve goes awry, you end up with a massive cold so Steve stops by to take care of you.

Word Count: 857

A/N: Fluffcember Day 5! I’m loving the love these fics are getting, seriously I’m flattered. Hope you reblog/follow/like this one! Enjoy!

Your entire sinus cavity felt filled with lead, the pressure causing a monstrous headache. You were surrounded by used tissues and half-drunk mugs of tea that had all gone cold. Your body ached all over and your throat burned when you tried to swallow. 

“Damn you, Rogers and your stupid muscle-y frame. Cracking the ice and shit, being all superhuman and not getting sick but guess who gets to feel like shit for a week? Me!” You mutter to yourself as you haul your comforter over your shoulders as you sit up on the couch, looking for the remote.

On a mission last week, you and Steve had been chasing a HYDRA agent across a frozen river. You both had thought it was frozen solid, but the second you’d gotten too far away from the shore you found that it wasn’t. You’d both plunged into the icy water, and now the universe was kicking you while you were down. Not only had you lost the agent you were pursuing, but now you had the worst cold you’d had in a long time.

“Well if that’s how you feel,” Steve’s voice sounded from behind you. You turned sharply and saw him at the door to your apartment, holding a steaming pot of something between two oven mitted hands. “I guess I’ll just bring this back upstairs.” 

“Wait, no! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. Don’t leave!” You croaked and Steve chuckled, moving toward the stove in your kitchen and placing the pot on top of it.

“Tony’s got you isolated, huh?”

“I’m surprised he even let you come see me. Who knew Stark was such a germaphobe?” 

Steve chuckled. The sound was music to your ears. “I’m sure he’s got a full decontamination shower waiting for me outside the door.”

Laughing hurt, but you did anyway as you pulled the comforter along with you, getting up from the couch to go investigate exactly what Steve had brought, but the supersoldier was on you faster than you could blink.

“No way, you need to rest,” he said, gently taking your shoulders and steering you back to the couch. 

“Can I at least know what’s in the pot?” You asked, eyebrow raised.

Steve brushed some of your hair out of the way and cupped your face in his palm. His fingers were warm on your skin and if you hadn’t been so feverish you would’ve noticed how your body heated at his proximity. Your eyes closed against the touch, leaning into it like a cat and wishing he would touch you like that more often. Preferably when you didn’t feel like death warmed over.

“It’s chicken noodle soup, secret family recipe. You want a bowl?” 

You only nodded. His hand disappeared and the warmth with it so you opened your eyes and watched him ladle two bowls of soup. He brought them over and sat next to you, closer than he normally would’ve, you noticed, and you couldn’t help but lean against him a little, curling your body around the steaming bowl and further into your blanket.

The two of you ate quietly, the only sounds in the room from the show you’d been binging and the gentle clink of spoons on the ceramic bowls, followed by gentle slurps. The quiet was comfortable, though, and neither of you felt the need to break it.

When you’d finished, Steve collected your bowl and brought them over to the sink before coming back and collecting all the mugs you’d accumulated on the coffee table. 

“You don’t have to-” you started, but he interrupted.

“I know, but I want to,” he smiled up at you and your heart skipped a beat. “It’s the least I can do after plunging you into that river.”

“I was just kidding, you know, I don’t actually blame you.” Your voice followed him to the kitchen sink where he dumped out the mugs and loaded them into the dishwasher.

“I know. Doesn’t mean I don’t blame myself.”

You whipped around, noting his tense frame and the white-knuckle grip he had on the rinsed bowl. He blamed himself for so much, and you just had to run your mouth and add to his grief. You reached out your hand and gently said, “Hey, come here.”

Steve complied, leaving his chore. His large fingers wrapped around yours. You tugged him toward you, sitting him on the couch next to you. “I really don’t blame you. I’ll be fine.”

“I just don’t like seeing you hurting, doll.” He traced his hand over your cheek again and you swore that if he kept doing that you would, indeed, start purring. “Wish I could do something.”

“You can.”

“Anything.”

“Cuddle me?” You fluttered your eyelashes up at him and a smile split his face wide open. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and you threw your legs over his lap. You rested your head against his broad, muscled chest and listened to his heartbeat while whatever you’d been watching kept playing. Eventually you fell asleep, wrapped in Steve’s warm embrace, and even though you felt like garbage you’d never felt more content.

[ossafr4cta]

Eheheeee go check out WORLDWID3 by Femtanyl

(No overlay version and original album cover under cut)

[reztoru]

Satoru is late, again. He didn't mean to be, he just seen some tasty sweets on his way back to Jujutsu Tech and couldn't help himself. He could totally just warp himself to the school. But that would make sense and Satoru Gojo does things with no rhyme or reason.

But he's kinda thankful he didn't just teleport to the school, or else he wouldn't have seen you like this, with his students.

Doting on them like you were their parent. Poking at Megumi's cheek to bother him, laughing with Yuji and scheming with Nobara on more ways you can prod at the boys.

You've probably told them to make sure to drink enough water during today's training — seeing a group of water bottles that you most definitely stole from the house all lined up. And you're probably gonna make him take you all out for lunch for being late. After you've scolded him of course.

And Satoru takes a moment to just watch. His mind wandering. He couldn't think of a better person to be training with his students. His family. And what if he grows his family with you? Having an embodiment of the love you share, running around the empty halls of your home. Making the little trio watch the baby so you can go out for dates.

Taking turns waking up in the middle of the night to tend to the baby. Coming home the next day to find you napping with the little bundle of joy tucked into your side. Probably having fallen asleep watching that one Disney movie for the nth time because the baby loves it so much.

Embarrassingly, he thinks about it a lot, but he's never sure how to bring it up. How does he tell you all he can think about is you? How does he tell you his biggest desire, in a place where everything feels so dark and gloomy, is that he wouldn't mind a little more of your light; a little more of you in the world.

[poppyflavour]

She doesn't know where to look

[fastboatsmojito]

Frank castle finding one of your plushies left over at his place and sending u pics like this with it everywhere he goes throughout the day </3

[creative-caramel-coffee]

Off Day Or Day Off Part 2

Summary: Reader’s bad day continues as they struggle with (POTS). Luckily Lizzie and Scarlett look after her.

Tw: kind of fainting but not really, pots, exhaustion / fatigue,

Words: 1090

A/n This was me like two hours before I wrote this, but I was alone (I texted a friend tho so that was nice), so I wrote this to project. I just laid on the floor and watched Lizzie interviews on YouTube.

The next time you woke up you groaned softly knowing you had to get up to pee. Lizzie was still fixed on the TV as scarlet turned to you with a concerned look.

“You ok honey?” She asked softly in case your head was hurting.

“Need to pee.” You pouted making Lizzie laugh as she began paying attention to your conversation.

“That’s the electrolytes love.” She teased and you frowned at her, hating everything at at the moment.

“Do you need help?” Scarlett offered.

“No.” You huffed grouchily, throwing off the blanket that was keeping you warm, shivering as you suddenly felt cold.

“Are you sure?” Scarlett pressed. “There’s no shame in needing help.

“Im fine.” You said feeling embarrassed and tired.

“Ok honey.” Scarletts expression relaxed now looking sad for you. “Call us if you need us okay sweets?” She asked and your inclined your head just enough to let her know you heard her.

Bracing yourself you sat up, pausing before moving to stand up. You blinked for a second waiting for the spots in your vision to leave Scarlett watched with concern but before sheer could say something you left the room.

After finishing and washing your hands you were walking back down the hall when you suddenly felt a wave of fatigue wash over you. It was all too familiar as you lowered yourself to the floor sliding down the wall.

You debated calling them over, still feeling bad for ruining their day off as well as just plain old stubbornness. You decided to wait a second to see if it would pass before you called them.

But after a few moments you knew, it wasn’t going to. Gently laying yourself down you felt your body becoming heavier and your eyes drooping as exhaustion crashed into you.

“Mum! Auntie Lizzie!” You called using up as much of your remaining strength as you could.

You heard hurried footsteps and felt someone brushing their hand gently through your hair.

“Y/n/n, honey can you hear me?” Scarlett asked as Lizzie hovered nearby.

“Mum…” you mumbled feeling bone tired as your eyes remained shut.

“I’m going to pick you up ok baby?” Scarlett said, not expecting a response as much as just asking to provide a warning. It was always slightly scary when this happened as you were practically defenceless and despite knowing you were safe with Lizzie and Scarlett you still hated not being able to protect yourself. You had been stubbornly independent from a young age so you despised needing to be looked after.

As your thoughts drifted, your mind too tired to try and keep up with your surroundings you felt strong arms under you as Scarlett scooped you off the floor.

She was very gentle as she carried you into the living room. Gently she set you down on the floor after Lizzie laid a blanket down so it was softer to lay on.

“What can I do?” Lizzie asked.

“She needs salt. Can you go grab one of the blue drinks from the fridge door?” Scarlett said and Lizzie nodded as she ran off to grab it.

Meanwhile Scarlett lifted your legs onto the couch too elevate them. Once she was done with that, she pulled your head into her lap. She knew you were awake just too tired to move.

When Lizzie returned, she sat next to you on the floor. Passing a small bag of sea salt chips to Scarlett and a bottle of Gatorade. Lizzie shuffled over and held your hand in her lap.

“It’s ok baby. We’re here my sweet girl.” Lizzie said softly, knowing you could hear them despite looking dead to the world.

The three of you sat in silence for a bit as they whispered soft reassurances to you, knowing how much you hated being out of control.

After a bit you blinked your eyes, a bit feeling a little bit of energy return.

“There she is.” Lizzie said brushed a strand of hair from your face. “How are you feeling baby?” She asked.

“Mmm.” You mumbled, too exhausted for words as you nuzzled into Scarlett’s lap.

Lizzie and Scarlett sat for another few minute's waiting for you to feel ready to sit up.

After a second your gaze focused on them. “Sorry.” You mumbled.

“Don’t apologise baby, you have no reason to be sorry.” Scarlett hushed you. “Are you read to sit up?” She asked

You paused for a second taking mental stock of your body before nodding.

Lizzie helped you sit up as your back leant against Scarletts chest to support you. Lizzie twisted the cap off the Gatorade and passed it to you, her hands brushing against your fingertips.

“Jesus Y/n!” She said. “You're freezing.” She said.

You nodded sagely in response. “Cold.” You confirmed, taking a sip of the drink while Scarletts hands stabilised yours which were shaking and pale.

“Here.” Lizzie said, pulling off her hoodie and sliding it over your head and wrangling you into it while Scarlett held your drink.

It was warm and smelt like Lizzie which made you feel better.

“Have some chips baby.” Lizzie said opening the packet. Feeling like babying you a little Lizzie began hand feeding you the chips ignoring your whining as she started making little airplane noises to tease you like she was feeding a toddler.

You pouted at her and she giggled, her nose scrunching as you huffed softly.

“Feeling better honey?” Scarlett asked and you leant your head against her collarbone.

“Yeah.” You said softly, still not feeling a hundred percent.

“Hope about we move this party to the couch for some snuggles.” Lizzie suggested and you nodded. Scarlett smiled and scooped you up, passing you to Lizzie who had taken up her previous spot on the couch.

You laid on her stomach, heads resting in the crook of her neck as she rubbed your back in soft gentle circles.

“Get some rest honeylove.” She whispered and you nuzzled into her making her coo as you drifted off again after feeling Scarlett join the cuddle puddle.

@barbarasstar @charlie56

[dancingwiththoughts]

Radioapple sketches to distract from life

[peppymintdreams]

Sick and Pickled

Isaac Rhoades x Pickle

Requested by @mitsukitsume

Pickle is sick but don’t worry their lovely boyfriend Isaac is here to save the day

Pickle lay bundled in bed, cocooned beneath layers of blankets, but still shivering from the fever that had knocked them off their feet. Their head throbbed like a drum, and even the simplest movements felt like climbing a mountain.

Isaac entered the dimly lit room, balancing a tray filled with a steaming bowl of soup, a glass of water, and some medication. His expression was typically stoic, but the concern in his eyes betrayed the calmness he tried to project.

“Hey, Pickle,” he said softly, setting the tray down on the bedside table. “How are you feeling?”

They groaned, turning their head slightly to meet his gaze. “Like I’ve been run over by a truck,” they mumbled, voice thick and shaky. “I can’t even think straight.”

Isaac's lips pressed into a thin line, a mixture of worry and determination crossing his features. He settled on the edge of the bed, his presence reassuring. “You need to eat something,” he insisted, his tone gentle but firm.

With careful hands, he lifted a spoonful of the warm soup, bringing it to their lips. “Just a little for me, alright?” His eyes softened as he watched them, his usual stern demeanor giving way to something more tender.

Pickle hesitated but opened their mouth, taking the sip. The warmth slid down their throat, and for a moment, it felt like a hug from the inside. Isaac smiled, his expression breaking into something softer, something loving.

“That’s it. You’re doing great,” he encouraged, continuing to feed them. He leaned closer, the proximity making Pickle’s heart flutter despite their discomfort. “I know it’s hard, but you’ll feel better soon. Just a little more.”

After a few spoonfuls, Pickle leaned back against the pillows, exhausted. Isaac set the bowl aside and reached for the glass of water. “Here, just a sip. You need to stay hydrated,” he urged, his voice a soothing balm.

Pickle obeyed, their eyes meeting his as they drank. “You don’t have to stay here the whole time, you know,” they said, trying to keep their voice light. “I’ll be fine eventually…”

Isaac shook his head, his brows furrowing in mild annoyance. “No, I’m staying. I won’t leave you alone while you’re like this.” His tone was firm, but the warmth in his gaze was unmistakable. “Besides, I’d rather be here to make sure you don’t sneak out of bed and get yourself into trouble.”

A faint laugh escaped Pickle, though it quickly morphed into a cough. Isaac instinctively rubbed soothing circles on their back, his touch gentle yet protective. “Easy there,” he murmured. “You’re safe. Just focus on resting.”

Isaac adjusted the blankets around Pickle, tucking them in closer. “I’m here,” he promised, his voice low and reassuring. “You’ll get better, and when you do, I want to hear you sing for me every day.”

Pickle’s heart swelled at his words, a warmth spreading through them that had nothing to do with the fever. “You really mean that?” they asked, their voice soft.

“Of course,” Isaac replied, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Your voice is…” He paused, searching for the right words. “It’s beautiful. I can’t imagine not hearing it.”

With that, Pickle’s eyelids grew heavy. They allowed themselves to sink into the comfort of his presence, feeling a sense of safety wash over them. Isaac, ever vigilant, settled into the chair beside the bed, keeping watch with a tenderness that belied his serious exterior.

As the fever began to ebb and sleep overtook Pickle, they felt a deep gratitude for Isaac’s care. He may be a stoic man on the outside, but in moments like these, he showed the depth of his affection a love that was fierce, protective, and unwavering.

Hope you enjoyed it girlie ☺️

[cuddlepilefics]

I’m going down (you’re yelling timber)

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Hyunjin

Caregivers: Stray Kids

Prompts: Passing out / Exhaustion / “I’ve got you, let’s sit down, I’ve got you.”

@whumperless-whump-event

No one’s POV.:

With the way their schedules had been filled to the very brink lately, Hyunjin was impressed how the group was still going strong. For some reason, the members didn’t seem any more tried than they’d usually be, while he himself felt close to crumbling. His whole body ached and a persistent headache was pulsing behind his temples. Had been for the past week if he was being honest. 3racha worked even more than him, which Hyunjin knew because he repeatedly returned to an empty dorm, yet they seemed not to be too affected by it. At least that way, Hyunjin could shower right away when he came home from his dance practice with Minho and Felix and didn’t need to wait his turn.

That shower turned out quite long because Hyunjin’s tense muscles finally relaxed when the hot water hit his shoulders. He barely found the energy to wash himself down, his arms suddenly feeling like cooked spaghetti, and it was obvious that he’d be out like a light the moment his head hit the pillow. A shudder ran down Hyunjin’s back, the hot water suddenly feeling cold to him, causing goosebumps to prick at his skin. He braced himself against the tiled wall as his ears started to ring. In a daze, he turned off the water and stumbled out of the shower, clumsily wrapping himself in his towel before plopping down on the closed toilet seat.

Holding his swimming head in his hands, Hyunjin took a few panting breaths and felt shaky all over. Maybe he shouldn’t have turned the water temperature up so high because now his circulation was wonky and he didn’t trust himself to stand and get ready for bed. Oh how badly he wanted to be in his bed right now. That would take a while though because Hyunjin only found the strength to get dressed after taking deep breaths for five minutes. He had to sit down again while he brushed his teeth.

A few sips of water might help with the lingering dizziness but the kitchen was in the opposite direction of his bedroom, so Hyunjin was torn. If 3racha had been home, he would’ve asked someone to fetch him a drink but that was out of question now. In the end, he decided to go to bed without a drink. His head pounded and he had to hold back tears as he crawled into bed, unsure how exactly he was going to make it through his schedule the next day.

Lucky for him, their schedule started at the studio the following morning and while his headache hadn’t improved, he wasn’t dizzy anymore. It was also nice to not be alone at the dorm anymore and he shot Jisung a tired smile when he plopped down next to him at the dining table, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand. The rapper looked half asleep still, about as exhausted as Hyunjin felt and the dancer was relieved that he wasn’t the only one feeling drained. On the other hand, Jisung had only gotten home after Hyunjin had already gone to bed, yet he was up and running at the same time.

Watching the rapper eat made Hyunjin’s stomach turn and he glanced at his coffee in distaste. He had no appetite at all but if he wanted to take something for his headache, he should have at least a small breakfast. Too exhausted to prepare himself some proper food, Hyunjin grabbed some crackers and a small box of banana milk, slowly nibbling one of the crackers. It felt wrong in his mouth, taking all his willpower to swallow. Figuring it’d be easier to just wash it down with the banana milk, the dancer took a swig and startled when it triggered his gag reflex. Hyunjin covered his mouth in a panic, the drink eventually going down but not without choking him. Watching the older double over coughing, Jisung guessed his friend had aspirated, too sleepy to pay attention to eating, and reached over to pat the other on the back.

When Hyunjin finally managed to catch his breath, he thanked Jisung weakly but excused himself to his room, claiming he’d finish his food while getting ready. In truth, he sat on the edge of his bed, trashcan planted between his knees as he painfully slowly finished his crackers. They left his mouth and throat itchy because he hadn’t dared to drink anymore but that was soon to change. There was no way he’d be able to swallow his painkillers dry, not after the crackers had dried him out like this, so eyeing the banana milk in distaste, he hurriedly popped the pills into his mouth and downed his drink like a shot. Lurching forward with a closed-mouth gag, Hyunjin forced himself to breathe deeply and shuddered. Goosebumps had spread on his arms, while he broke into a sweat. His stomach still churned when he wiped his brow with a trembling hand, dumping the milk carton into the trash. The pills were down, so… mission accomplished.

He'd be lying if he claimed they were helping at all though. There was still that pressure in his head, making it hard to think clearly but at least, his stomach had calmed down. He was lucky that their dance practice was only scheduled for the late afternoon and he’d have a couple of hours to get his bearings. Maybe once he was more awake, he’d be able to stomach something more nutritious that’d give him the energy to keep going. Hyunjin probably shouldn't be happy that his friends were similarly tired but a small part of him way. With all of them lacking energy, it was relatively quiet and sitting with his fellow dancers, Hyunjin eventually dared lean his head on Minho’s shoulder. It still ached and his neck felt too sore to support its weight. To his surprise, the older neither pushed him away or teased him for it, merely continuing to go over his lyrics.

Sitting on Hyunjin’s other side, Felix’ hand snuck up his hyung’s back and gently kneaded the tense muscles in his neck. The melting tension caused him to slump further into Minho, which startled the second oldest but he was quick to adjust his position to properly support his dongsaeng’s side. “Are you okay?”, Minho asked quietly enough only for Hyunjin to hear. The younger nodded slightly, breathing: “Tired. Head hurts.” – “Painkillers?”, Minho offered, reaching up to run his fingers through his dongsaeng’s hair. “Took some”, Hyunjin mumbled but kept his eyes closed, “Not helping much though.” He drifted up soon after that, too out of it to witness the hushed conversation between his fellow dancers.

Felix kept massaging Hyunjin’s neck and shoulders while the older was asleep, hoping to release some of the tension to ease his pain. At some point, Chan had come over to feel the boy’s forehead but couldn’t detect a fever. Giving the leader s sad smile, Minho hummed: “It’s probably exhaustion. He’s been going all out during practice every single time.” Chan sighed, that truly sounded like something Hyunjin would do. “If he wakes up, let me know, please. I’ll have him warm up and record his lines right away, so he and go home and rest after that. You and Felix will be fine teaching us the choreo without him later, right?”, the leader confirmed, earning a relieved nod from Minho. The dancer couldn’t bear watching his dongsaeng destroy himself like that anymore.

As soon as Hyunjin sat up and reached for his water bottle, Minho informed him of what they had worked out with Chan. It should’ve already been red flag that the younger just thanked him and started to warm up despite his voice still being thick with sleep. The Hyunjin they knew would’ve put up a fight, insisting that he was fine to keep working and especially refusing to be sidelined during dance practice. It seemed he was truly more exhausted than he let on. He even swayed slightly when he had to get up from the couch because he was called into the recording booth. Laughing awkwardly, he slurred something about his legs having fallen asleep from sitting so long and shakily entered the recording booth to receive instructions which segment he should start with.

Hyunjin felt truly lucky that 3racha were so patient and understanding with him because nothing seemed to be going his way. Despite warming up, his voice still came out flat and with his tongue feeling heavy at the bottom of his mouth, he had frequent slip ups in his pronunciation. Everyone was understanding and tried to reassure him but Hyunjin couldn’t stop the tears from blurring his vision, making his voice sound even more choked. The stuffy air inside the recording booth certainly wasn’t helping and with his breath coming faster, it didn’t take long for the dancer to feel lightheaded. He lasted surprisingly long till the dizziness hit with the same intensity as it had the previous night. Sweat beaded on his forehead and it felt like all the air had been used up, no matter how much he breathed, it didn’t seem to be enough.

When his vision darkened, Hyunjin shakily reached for the lyric stand, clammy hand clutching cold metal. His ears rang too badly for him to hear Chan calling out to him over the speakers but goosebumps spread on his skin when a gust of wind hit his arm from Chan pushing through the door of the recording booth. Strong arms wrapped around his middle and Hyunjin let himself slump into the Aussie’s chest. “I’ve got you, let’s sit down, I’ve got you.” That promise seemed to be enough for Hyunjin’s fuzzy mind to let go of the last remnants of consciousness, his knees buckling while Chan guided him to the floor. Changbin was by their side in an instant, elevating his dongsaeng’s leg. Cursing himself for not having picked up on the signs, despite Hyunjin acting so out of character, Minho was up off the couch and with them in no time, the tiny recording booth getting cramped. He swiped the lyrics sheets off the stand, fanning Hyunjin’s pale face while feeling his pulse.

Hyunjin’s head thumped as he slowly came to, making him grimace. “Easy”, Chan shushed when the dancer tried to sit up. Changbin carefully laid the younger’s legs down and slipped out of the booth for one, to give them some space and two, to fetch his dongsaengs some water. Carding Hyunjin’s hair back, Chan hummed: “How’re you feeling?” The dancer drew a deep breath before mumbling: “Like putty. Really sore and dizzy putty though.” – “Not surprised your limbs feel sluggish and heavy”, Minho winced sympathetically, rubbing Hyunjin’s arm, “You’ve been demanding far too much of your body lately. Do you think you can stand if we help you? It’s really stuffy in here and I doubt that’s helping with the dizziness at all.”

Hoisting Hyunjin to his feet, the two eldest supported him to the couch and made him lay down there again. Felix took a seat next to him and comfortingly played with his hair while they tried to figure out their next course of action. Sending Hyunjin back to the dorm by himself was out of the question now but there also was no point of dragging him along to their schedule and make him try to rest on an uncomfortable couch in a dance practice room with music blasting from the speakers. None of them would be able to accompany him though because they’d have to learn a new choreography today and Minho and Felix were needed as their instructors.

“Hyun-e, we don’t have a good feeling sending you home alone. Not with what just happened. It’ll be too loud to rest in the practice room but you could stay here at the studio. The couch is all yours, we’d bring you lunch and collect you after practice”, Chan mused. The mention of food made Hyunjin’s stomach turn but he didn’t dare argue. Scratching the back of his neck, the leader hummed: “The second option would be manager-nim taking you back to the dorm and keeping you company while you eat. After that your not to leave your bed for anything other than using the bathroom. Safety precaution ‘cause we don’t want to come home to you passed out on the floor.” – “Option two, please, but I dunno if I can stomach anything, hyung”, Hyunjin muttered, resting his hand on his middle, “Don’t feel like eating.” – “The two of you can pick up something light, some soup maybe, on the way back”, Chan smiled, “I trust you to try your best and if you can only handle a couple of bites at a time, you’ll just try to snack throughout the rest of the day and have really small servings, okay?” The dancer nodded weakly, thanking Chan. He was glad that he could finally rest up.

[kentosbabes]

m not sure if you did this, but how about nanami and sick reader? sorry my daddy issues are speaking rn

Omg this could not have come at a better time, I'm delusional AND I was sick yesterday xxx

Nanami and sick reader

Nanami who comes home to you being sick in the bathroom, he ties up your hair and gets you water. His hand stroking your head and patting your back methodically and asking if you are ok.

Nanami who never misses a day from work calls his boss telling him he won't be in, he knows he would be too worried about you to leave the house. He would be too preoccupied with you running his head to even think about leaving you by yourself.

Nanami who makes you breakfast, plain bread with butter, water and medicine he stepped out to buy while you were having a nap. He really wishes that he could make something better but this is all you can eat without being sick again.

Nanami who makes you lemon and honey tea when you start to feel a little better, his mother used to give it to him when he was sick and it is only fitting that you get the same treatment.

Nanami who reads to you to get you to sleep again, he picks up a book from your 'pile' on your bedside table. He happens to pick up Pride and Prejudice and even does the British accents with the voices.

Nanami who begs you to take it easy after you wake up and want to finish some work. "Are you going to be a good girl? Let me take care of you." He knows you feel uncomfortable just doing nothing at home whilst there is still work to be completed so he tries to make you feel better by distracting you.

Nanami who presses kisses on your forehead and your cheek despite you telling him he's going to get sick as well, he only responds with, "Then we can be sick together."

Nanami who checks your fever by placing the back of his large hand on your forehead, he strokes your hair and starts to play with it lying down and grabbing the remote to put some true crime documentary on Netflix you've been meaning to watch.

Nanami who made you some chicken noodle soup from scratch using his grandmother's recipe, the smell woke you up and you walked into the kitchen seeing him wearing the novelty pink frilly apron Gojo got him for his birthday and his long-sleeved top rolled back to his elbows.

Nanami who sat you down promptly, once realising that you can't lift the spoon well due to your weakness, he started to feed you. He wiped the soup on your chin with one hand and went back to holding yours.

Nanami whose hands traced circles into your back whilst you cuddled him on the sofa. He started to give you a proper massage and even got the oils out from the bathroom cabinet. His large and dexterous hands squeezed and pulled all the knots in your neck from sleeping all day. "You know I love those cute noises you’re making sweetheart."

Nanami who sleeps with you, legs entwined with yours, his hands encircling your waist and his head on your neck. Nanami wants to keep you as close as possible to him as much as he can. The warmth and rhythmic breathing makes it easier for you both to sleep. He thinks you're asleep so he starts to confess to you, "I love you so much I don't think I could live without you," and "I got so worried this morning I don't think I could've gone into the office without leaving an hour in."

masterlist

[pinkicyheart]

thinking about walking down the aisle looking down at the ground with your veil just brushing past your eyelashes just to look up to see your husband to be, jean, in tears and a stupid grin plastered on his face

[roanniom]

Eddie would totally make you soup when you're sick.

He'd open the can, pour it in a mug, stick it in the microwave, even stick a spoon in it and bring it to you. The works! 😂

Eddie Munson x Reader

I feel like the poor man would have the self awareness to be a little sheepish about it. Rubbing the back of his neck with a little smile as he hands it to you.

“The Munson special, m’lady. Only the finest, as Uncle Wayne used to say.”

You look up at him with warm, teary eyes.

“It’s perfect, Eds, thanks.”

You say it earnestly. Not like you’re playing along with him or agreeing with his sarcasm. Your lover made you something to make you feel better. It’s something you genuinely appreciate. Eddie sits down next to you, a bit pinker around the cheeks, and watches you swallow your first spoonful.

“I promise I’ll learn how to…actually, you know, make soup so that next time…” he shrugs, clearly uncomfortable with himself. “I can ask Nancy for a recipe or something—,”

“Eddie,” you say quietly, hushing him with the sound of his name and with your hand placed lightly on his knee. “All I need is for you to be here with me. Nothing else.”

It seems like it’s his turn for tears to cloud his vision, and suddenly you’re doing your best to hold the mug full of soup aloft as Eddie envelopes your body in a hug.

“Baby, you’re gonna get sick,” you try to admonish, but he just holds you tighter.

“Don’t care,” he mumbles into your neck, almost childishly.

You hum and hug him back, not sure you care either.

[newcomernewcums]

got hit with a cold today so... price/sick reader? 🥲

We got fluffy Price stat for egg:

Price has never really had the ability to relax. He thinks he lost it somewhere in his teens—too hyped up on whatever hormonal mix was fucking with his body—or in the first week of basic training, drilled out if him as quick as possible.

Whatever the actual reason, he never finds himself sitting down and having a moment. Never takes the time to watch a movie or eat a full meal. Every time he thinks to try he ends up jittery, distracted, mind running too fast, going back to the research he needs to do for the next mission, or what he could add to the last report to make it more precise, better data for to learn from for the future. Make sure he knows every outcome, every wild possibility, make sure that he knows how to get his team home every time without fail.

He hadn’t even seriously tried to relax before you.

Its probably the way you’ve managed to crawl into every aspect of his life, on base and off. If he’s not training you he’s on a mission with you, if its not a mission its silently doing paperwork next to you, if he’s not with you at all (a rare occurrence these days) he’s checking the clock every 3 minutes, willing that his glare will make time go by faster.

He finds he really enjoys having you underfoot, an arms length away, it allows him to reach you whenever he wants, take your hand in his or listen to you pattering on about something or other that you love. He remembers it all, loves memorizing your cadence, the lilt in your voice and the light in your eyes when he prompts you with questions or laughs at one of your stupid jokes.

He still doesn’t try to relax, though. Its not really a thought, you don’t seem to mind how he spends late nights in his office, or how he always finds more hours to put in at the gym. You just knock on his door with a blanket a book and a cup of coffee (it took you a surprisingly small amount of time to memorize how he likes it), or show up with an extra water bottle for him and offer to be his spotter.

You become so ingrained in his routine that he notices it immediately when you’re gone. It’s 8am when he reaches over to take your hand in his from where it usually rests on the edge of the desk, his brain buffering when he only finds empty space.

He checks your room first, finds the blanket stripped off the bed, which is… a little worrying. Until he heads back to his own room.

He should’ve assumed, really. You two have never actually slept slept together, trying to keep things as above-board and secretive as you can, but your self-preservation skills have always been shite so of course you’re curled up on his bed, burrowing into the two layers of blankets, completely knocked out.

He figures out what’s happening rather quickly—only having to take your face in one hand to feel the fever—before he’s rushing off to the communal kitchen for some tea and whatever cold medicine he can scrounge up from their meager medbay.

It takes a couple tries to wake you enough to get you to drink, avoiding an arm trying to swat him and chuckling at a withering glare for daring to disturb your nap (in his bed, he can’t seen to forget that). Once he’s satisfied though, he leans down to give you a kiss before getting up to go back to work, already reorganizing his own internal schedule.

He’s stopped by a soft hand on his wrist, looks back to find you reaching for him, pulling the blankets up to invite him in. He freezes.

“Please, John?” your voice sounds so sweet despite the rasp, so much like home, that its impossible for him to not kick off his shoes and slip under the covers next to you. Impossible to not curl his arms around you, bring your head into his chest, and fully breathe out for the first time in years. He’s lulled by the steady rhythm of your breathing, your small snores. He lies awake for hours just taking the time to enjoy your presence with no distractions.

He finally drifts off to sleep with the thought that he rather likes doing nothing when its with you.

[lover-of-midnight]

Shaking

Arthur shivered slightly as he looked out the window. Tiredness was dragging him down and truth be told he just wanted to climb in bed and get some sleep, still, it felt like something had planted him in front of the window.

He watched as another streak of lightning lit up the night sky. He crossed his arms trying to gather some heat sniffling slightly.

Merlin pushed the door open, checking on the prince one last time for the evening. He frowned when he saw how pale Arthur was. With silent movements, he moved closer to him. “Arthur, are you alright?”

Arthur forced himself to move away from the window to look at Merlin, his throat felt clenched up.

“Let’s get you to bed.” When Merlin grabbed Arthur’s hand, he immediately noticed the shaking. He frowned deepened slightly as he pulled Arthur to the bed.

When Arthur was finally tucked into bed, Merlin gently combed his fingers through the red hair. “Are you feeling sick?” His voice was low as he pressed his hand against Arthur’s fevered head.

The prince didn’t bother to answer, struggling to keep his eyes open as he basked in the slight comfort. His hand clenched into Merlin’s pants. As sleep finally dragged him under.

Ao3 Link

[sweetlysniffly]

okay so just think about it

character A has always been insecure about their nose, they don’t love the way it looks and they don’t like any attention on it. They were teased and bullied for their nose growing up, especially the lower half of it.

So, whenever they catch a cold/their allergies act up and their nose is all red, they feel the need to hide it as best they can so people aren’t looking at their nose: makeup, masks, tissues, scarves.

Now it’s the first time they’ve caught a cold since living with their partner B for the first time, and they keep going through great lengths to cover their nose until it’s time for bed.

B and A are laying facing each other, and A has the blankets up to cover their nose, and while B thinks it’s a cute for a second they do get a little worried.

“Babe don’t you think you should pull the blanket down a little so you can breath? I don’t want you to suffocate or anything”

B goes to pull it down but A quickly pulls it back up. B isnt really pressing it far just giving an awkward “Okaaayyy”

A tries to make something up; but they’re tired and feeling vulnerable so they admit the truth: with the blanket still covering their nose ofc.

“It’s just that, I really don’t like my nose, and now that’s it’s all red I’m afraid of you staring at it and realizing how ugly it is.”

B takes their hand and rubs A’s back. “Baby. I love all of you. And that includes your nose, which is absolutely beautiful by the way, and I’m not just saying that. It’s perfect. And you’re sick, you shouldn’t be worrying about how you look. Just worry about feeling better okay?”

A smiles and brings the blanket down “okay.”

“See! There you are! Mwah!” b plants a peck on the tip of A’s nose, which of course sends them into a miniature sneezing fit that makes them duck back into the blanket anyway to avoid spraying B.

[taestarii]

hellohello! i was wanting to request a chishiya x sick!reader! im craving fluff rn and i love your ffs! -sincerely, anon! <3

i'm actually sick rn, wish chishiya was here to take care of me

✎ an apple a day - chishiya

[chishiya x sick!fem!reader]

synopsis - you get sick and chishiya takes care of you

warning! takes place post-borderlands but there's no spoilers or anything, just a light-hearted fluffy fic. slightly ooc chishiya

this one is short, but i hope you guys still like it ☆

Everything felt wrong.

You woke up with a sore throat and a massive headache, every bone in your body aching. Unwrapping yourself from Chishiya's arms, you sat up, immediately feeling dazed. Chishiya stirred next to you, "Y/n?," he called, "it's early, love. Why are you awake?" You tried to respond, instant pain hitting your sore throat. His hands rose to your forehead, pulling away the second they made contact. "God, Y/n, you're burning up." He got up, not even bothering to change out of his sleepwear, as he walked into the bathroom. He came back with a small cup, carrying a vile reddish liquid. "Oh no," you groaned, burying yourself face first into the pillows.

"Yes, Y/n. Now." He spoke softly yet firmly. The bed dipped where he sat down, his hands still holding the medicine. You whined in protest again, Chishiya sighing with a mix of frustration and annoyance. "Dear, I'm a doctor. Please take the damn medicine." Huffing in defeat, you turn over, grabbing the gut-wrenching liquid from his hand, and downing in. Chishiya chuckled at the face you made the second it reached your mouth. "Is it really that awful?" You glared at him, pushing the cup back into his hand and turning back over.

You had fallen asleep again and Chishiya sat on the foot of the bed, admiring your sleeping figure. You truly had to be the only person that could make him feel the way he does. Your hair was a mess, pieces sticking to your sweat-covered forehead, body radiating heat. And he still thought you were breath-taking.

-

You woke up a few hours later to the smell of ginger filling your nose. You got up and walked to the kitchen, Chishiya sitting down with two cups of tea and a kettle. "Ah, shogayu tea. Infamous cold remedy." You said with a smile on your face at how thoughtful Chishiya was. "I made this for me, not you." He said with a smirk, sliding the teacup towards you. "I guess an apple a day wasn't enough to keep the doctor away." You gratefully accepted it, taking a sip of the hot tea, it instantly warming you up.

"You know I love you, right?"

"You know you're insufferable when you're sick, right?"