#tepid: yeah that tracks but please don't

[extravagantliar]

kirkwall keeping rent low by having a systematic shift of living every ten years.

[inkdrinkerworld]

fawn:( i'm feeling so sicky and sad:( can you write something for bob floyd taking care of a sick and sad reader please? bonus if she's neurodivergent :/ ily and ofc u don't have to write this !

Aw baby I hope you feel better! In the meantime, here’s Bob helping you feel just a smidge better

Cw: nausea, vomit (mentioned), general feelings of being ill

“Darling you’re pale.” Bob’s all worry as he finds you in the bathroom, kneeling before the toilet with a sweaty hand on your forehead.

You’ve been sick for the past week, your flu turning into a chesty cough, turning into nausea that has given you chills. You’ve not eaten anything for the last two days, past a couple spoonfuls of soup because Bob refused to let you go to bed hungry.

Now, you’re paying the price.

“Robby,” your voice is hoarse, eyes tired with dried tear tracks on your cheeks. “Feel horrible.”

You don’t want to throw up again, you don’t like this sweaty, head throbbing feeling and you just want to be better.

“I know angel,” he strokes your back, feeling the heat beaming off you. He doesn’t like that your fever is back. “Lean back baby, have some water.” You struggle to take a sip, hands shaking as they shadow Bob’s.

“I don’t like this,” you grumble, wiping at your face as more tears start falling. “I just want to be better.” Your voice is all choked up, face turning into Bob’s chest as your body shakes.

“We’re doing everything right darling,” he rubs your back, kissing your forehead as you begin to calm down. “How’s your stomach feeling? Settled?”

You nod, pitiful and ready for a shower. “I’m gonna fill up the tub and you’re gonna stay in there to break that fever, yeah?” You nod again.

Bob helps you in, letting you sit in the tepid water while he takes another go at making dinner for you.

He comes back just as the water goes freezing and finds you asleep on the lip of the tub. If you weren’t so sick he’d find you even more adorable. “Darling,” his palm cups water and watches it flow down your shoulder. “Wake up baby.”

Your eyes blink slowly and focus on the bowl in Bob’s other hand.

“I don’t think I can stomach it.” Your eyes water and you’re two seconds away from balling but Bob shushes you.

“It’s just fruit baby, they’re supposed to help with the nausea. You don’t have to eat all, just some.” He feeds you two wedges of pear and a couple banana coins before you’re ready to step out of the tub and get ready for bed.

“I got coconut water and pedialyte, have your pick.” You reach for the coconut water, sipping slowly as you sit. You’re feeling much better, a little stronger and like yourself but still weak. Bob notices and offers the bowl back to you, watching happily as you munch on the fruits and sip the coconut water.