#holding a mug of hot soup and letting it warm your hands

[beskad]

what's it called if your love language is feeding people?

[daisynik7]

You shuffle into the kitchen, wrapped in your favorite throw blanket, hoodie covering your head, sniffling. Nanami leans over a steaming pot on the stove, giving you a small grin as you approach him. “Hi,” you mutter, congested from your nose down to your chest. 

With a sympathetic pout, he replies, “Hi honey.” He checks you for a fever and when he senses none, he bows slightly to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Soup is almost ready.”

His homemade chicken noodle soup always hits the spot, especially when you’re sick like this. It’s hearty, full of fresh vegetables and shredded chicken, always filling you up with comfort that temporarily eases the aches in your body. You sit at the dining table, cuddling yourself tighter within the blanket, feeling pitiful in this sorry state you’re in. 

He ladles the soup into a big bowl, setting it in front of you with a small piece of a baguette next to it. You sniff it, letting the soothing aroma fill your nostrils, warming your entire body. He scoots a chair next to you, grabbing hold of the spoon to scoop a generous bite, blowing on it delicately to feed you. While you enjoy being pampered during your moment of weakness, you can’t help reaching for his hand, saying, “You really don’t have to do this, Kento.”

He ignores your protests, giving you another cooled-down spoonful. “I know I don’t. But I want to.”

You shake your head, arguing more. “But you’ve already done so much – ”

He cuts you off, shoving a piece of bread into your mouth to shut you up, affectionately of course. “Let me do this for you, sweetie. Let me take care of you just like you do for me.”

You chew slowly, relenting to his stubbornness, just as he would do to you if the roles were reversed. Still, part of you doesn’t feel like you deserve this, deserve him. You let the thought escape you, asking out loud, “Why do you do so much for me?”

He smiles at you, eyes crinkling with kindness. “Because I love you and I want to take care of you. Is that so hard to believe?”

You nod, wiping your nose with a tissue from your pocket. “You’re too good for me.”

He chuckles, patting the corners of your lips with a napkin. “Now I know you’re really sick if you’re saying ridiculous things like this.”

“I’m serious! You’re the perfect man, and I’m just…me.” 

Nanami removes the hood from your head, cupping your cheek lovingly. “But that’s why I love you so much. Because you’re you. And that’s what makes you perfect.”

You melt into his touch, already feeling the nourishing effects of the soup throughout your weakened body. He helps you finish the rest of the bowl, topping the meal off with a hot mug of tea with honey and a squeeze of lemon. Then, he leads you to the couch, massaging your temples until you fall asleep on his lap.  Leave it to your husband to know exactly the remedy to make you feel better. 

[etherealyoungk]

u said soft hours and i RUSHED. very self indulgent but thoughts abt wonwoo w sick partner :(((

AXEE MY LOVE here you go!

you woke up with a heavy and hot head and a bad cough but you didn't tell wonwoo you were sick. he had enough on his plate already with work and you didn't want to add to his stress. so when you texted jeonghan asking if he could drop by with some medicines you didn't think he'd tell wonwoo about it. you were surprised when you saw wonwoo at your doorstep with your medicine instead of jeonghan. and wonwoo, well he wasn't happy.

"wonwoo what are you doing here? i thought you had an important meeting and schedules?", you ask meekly as he steps in before you start coughing. "how can i be at work when you're sick", he fills in as he gently tries to rub your back to help ease up your coughing.

"let's get you back to bed", he tells and he catches you off guard by picking you up bridal style as he carries you to bed, laying you down carefully. "wonwoo! i can walk", you tell. "and you should rest", he tells.

he'll be so attentive to you when you are sick. he's making you tea and always refilling your mug with hot water or some warm honey water to help ease your cough and sore throat. he'll sit with you in bed and indulge in a silly rom-com with you. even if you tell him to sit a few feet apart, he's not listening, assuring you that he wouldn't catch your cold, no matter how many times you told him.

he'd cook you a simple meal of whatever you wanted and if you wanted ramen he'd give you a side eye, telling you all that spice wasn't good for your stomach right now, as he made you something else to eat. even if you had a small scowl because of that, it was replaced with a grateful smile when he presented you with a hearty bowl of chicken soup.

in the night he'd make sure you were all bundled up and warm enough because it was really cold. "are you trying to drown me?", you asked, seeing the number of blankets wonwoo was putting on you. "i'll just become a burrito at this rate", you joke. "don't want a frozen burrito now i do", he teases and you snort before coughing again. he brings you another cup of warm honey tea and you sip on it, feeling slightly better.

"was it okay that you missed work?", you ask as you're tucked in bed, wonwoo sitting beside you as he hands you your medicine, holding a glass of water for you to take. "anything for you", he replies. "i'm sorry", you add, suddenly feeling bad. "hey hey, don't be. i would have come running any day, any time if i heard you were sick. i just wish you'd told me", he explains. "i know...i just didn't want to bother you, you've been busy enough", you tell softly and he envelops his arms around you, bringing you in for a hug as he kisses your temple. "i'm always here you love, no matter what", he assures and you smile softly. "thank you woo", you tell.

taglist: @daisycheols @weird-bookworm @idubiluv @qaramu @n4mj00nvq

[justlemmeadoreyou]

in sickness and in health

Summary: Harry takes care of y/n while she's sick.

Words: 1,000+

Warnings: Mostly fluff!

Y/N groaned as she slowly blinked her eyes open, her head pounding and her throat feeling raw and scratchy. She reached for the box of tissues on her nightstand, wincing at the movement. As she blew her nose, the bedroom door creaked open.

"Morning, love," came Harry's soft voice. He padded in, a tray laden with toast, orange juice, and a steaming mug of tea balanced carefully in his hands. "Brought you some breakfast."

"Harry..." Y/N croaked out, her voice little more than a whisper. "You didn't have to do that."

He shook his head, setting the tray down on the nightstand. "Of course I did. You're sick as a dog, babe." Harry perched on the edge of the bed, his hand coming up to brush her sweat-damp hair back from her forehead. "Looks like that nasty flu is really doing a number on you."

Y/N managed a weak smile, nuzzling into his touch. "I feel horrible."

"I know, sweetheart." Harry's thumb stroked her flushed cheek tenderly. "But I'm going to take care of you, okay? We'll get you feeling better in no time."

Leaning down, he pressed a lingering kiss to her clammy forehead before reaching for the mug of tea. "Here, drink some of this. The honey should help soothe your throat."

Y/N took a careful sip, the warm liquid coating her raw throat. She sighed in relief. "That's nice. Thank you, Haz."

"Of course, my love." Harry picked up a piece of dry toast from the tray. "Think you can manage a few bites? You need to keep your strength up."

Obediently, Y/N nibbled on the toast as Harry fussed over plumping up her pillows and layering an extra blanket over her shivering form. He clucked his tongue sympathetically at her pale, clammy appearance.

"I've got some cold medicine for you to take too. That should help with the aches and chills."

True to his word, Harry retrieved a dose of flu medication, holding it out along with a glass of cool water. Y/N swallowed it down gratefully.

"Such a good girl," Harry praised, stroking her hair again. "Now, I want you to try and get some more rest, okay? I'll be just down the hall if you need anything at all."

Y/N caught his hand as he made to stand. "Wait... Could you stay with me for a bit?"

Harry's eyes softened. "Of course, darling. Budge over." 

He slid under the covers, gathering Y/N's shivering form into his arms. She burrowed against his chest, breathing in the comforting scent of his cologne and letting it soothe her frazzled senses.

Harry pressed a kiss to her hair, rubbing her back soothingly. "Just relax and rest up, okay? I'm right here."

Y/N nodded, allowing her eyes to drift shut. She felt so safe and cared for wrapped in Harry's embrace. Despite feeling utterly miserable from her illness, having him there to look after her made it so much better.

Several hours later, she awoke feeling marginally less feverish - though her head was still pounding. Harry stirred beside her, ever attentive.

"Hey there, sleeping beauty," he murmured. "How are you feeling?"

Y/N sniffled pitifully. "A little better, I think. But my head is killing me."

"Hang on, let me get you a cool cloth for your forehead." In a flash, Harry was out of bed and heading for the en-suite bathroom.

He returned with a damp washcloth, gently draping it over Y/N's feverish brow. She sighed in relief at the delicious coolness against her pounding head.

"Thank you, baby. That feels heavenly."

Harry smiled, tenderly brushing her hair back. "I love taking care of my best girl. Are you hungry at all? I could whip up some chicken soup."

At the thought of food, Y/N's stomach roiled queasily. "Maybe just some more tea and dry toast for now?"

"You got it." Harry leaned in, dropping a featherlight kiss on her chapped lips. "I'll be right back with your tea, sweet thing."

True to his word, Harry returned a few minutes later with a fresh mug of piping hot tea and a couple pieces of dry buttered toast. He helped Y/N sit up against the mountain of pillows before passing her the mug.

"Careful, it's hot," he cautioned unnecessarily.

Y/N rolled her eyes fondly. "Yes, Dad."

Harry chuckled, taking a seat next to her on the bed and offering her a piece of toast. As she picked at the bread, he pulled her feet into his lap, gently massaging the soles.

"Mmm," Y/N hummed in appreciation. "You're too good to me."

"Nonsense. I'm just being a good boyfriend and taking care of my girl when she needs me." Harry winked playfully. "Afterall, I'll need you to return the favor when I inevitably catch this flu from you."

Y/N laughed weakly. "Deal."

For the rest of the day, Harry fussed over Y/N - keeping her hydrated, fetching her books and magazines to read, and just sitting by her side with his arms wrapped securely around her. She couldn't have asked for a better nurse.

As evening fell, Harry brought Y/N a fresh mug of hot tea, laced with honey and lemon. "Here, drink up. Should help that scratchy throat of yours."

"You're too good to me," Y/N said again, cradling the mug gratefully.

Harry shook his head seriously. "Never. You deserve the world, my love." He leaned in, kissing her forehead tenderly. "I'm just trying to give it to you."

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)

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[dadsbongos]

i loved that denji one ty 😝🤘u said u've been wanting to write for him? ur in luck cuz i can only think about him 😎😎

how about (fem) reader is sick or something and denji's there to take care of her but like he sucks at it and he doesnt know the fever temps (cuz that'd be pretty funny)

or switched and reader takes care of sick denji :)

ok i know... i know you said him being bad at it is funny... but i think aki having forced him to become a good nurse is sillier

645 words -- not proofread :/

~~~

“I knew you were hot,” Denji wiggles the thermometer in front of your sweaty face, grinning despite the miserable downturn of your lips.

“Denji.”

“Sorry,” he huffs, studying the dial again and sucking air through his jagged teeth, “This is shit, though. You’re boiling.”

You nod sluggishly, “I know, Denji.”

“That’s seriously bad.”

“I know, Denji.”

He frowns, bending down to wring a towel through cool water before laying it over your forehead. Smoothing down the cloth just because he feels useless otherwise. Denji gnaws his bottom lip as he thinks, sitting on the edge of your bed to hold your clammy hand.

“Do you want soup?” he murmurs unsurely, watching you wince and swallow hard before nodding slowly. With a new and apparent objective in mind, Denji beams down at you before rushing off, “Okay!”

Soon after, he returns with an off-white bowl shaking in his hands before sitting beside you again on the bed. You blink up at him with crinkly, boogery eyes and croak out desperately, “...chicken noodle?”

“Chicken noodle,” Denji nods surely, spooning soup up and into your mouth, “I tried not to make the broth too hate.”

“Thanks, Denji.”

“‘Cuz if I burned your tongue I think I’d skin my hand.”

You chuckle weakly, sputtering phlegm and wheezing as you do before soothing a hand over your chest, “Thanks, Denji.”

“Yeah, ‘course,” he happily feeds you more soup, feeling his whole body go lighter and lighter the longer you go eating his food without throwing it up. He knows it’s a little strange, but he remembers eating all of Aki’s cooking because he wanted Aki to know he appreciated it -- and he prays now that you might have the same motivation.

“Tea,” you’re mostly mouthing the word, desperate to avoid harsh scratching against the sore spot in the back of your throat. 

“Tea!” he hugs the emptied bowl to his chest (still getting the drippy remnants of chicken noodle soup on his shirt), prepared to rush out of your shared bedroom before pausing, “With honey, right?”

You nod sluggishly, yawning into the open air.

Denji’s eyes light up excitedly, “Lots of honey, right?”

Again, you nod. More so to entertain Denji than anything.

When he returns, it's with a steaming mug and a spoon in his mouth. You point at the spoon with a shaky finger and he speaks clumsily around it, “Honey!” he plucks out the spoon and lays it in his lap when he sits to avoid setting it on your nice dresser. Then he hands the warm mug to you, “And honey here, for my honey.”

You grimace playfully, rasping a “corny”, before blowing into the tea and sipping. 

“‘s true,” he wants to lay down with you, but you’d whack him upright -- too stacked with preemptive guilt of spreading germs onto Denji to let him cuddle you. 

“My neck feels slimy…”

“Shit,” he feels over the folded cloth on your head, “It’s warm!” he dips his fingertips into the large bowl of water he kept to re-moisten the cloth, “Warm!”

Denji runs off to the bathroom and soaks the cloth in cold water to slick over your feverish forehead before refilling the water bowl. Your heavy eyes follow him through the doorways, he stumbles and his hands are unsteady but he’s helpful. You’re sure Aki whipped him into shape on one of his rare sick days. Then, the thought of Power strikes and you’re almost giggling aloud -- what a nightmare that Fiend would be if she got ill.

“Back!” Denji cheers, settling the bowl down and stirring a single finger through the iced water, “Nice and cold for ya. If you overheated that’d be bad.”

“I know, Denji.”

“‘Cuz I don’t want you sick anymore,” he pouts.

Soothed by good humor, you smile genuinely and wave off his worry, “I know, Denji.”

[doobea]

BLLK - Relationship HCs + Songs That Describes It

contents: gn!reader, super fluffy, sfw, established relationships characters mentioned: isagi, bachira, nagi, chigiri, reo, rin a/n: probably a bunch of these floating around but these are just my interpretations hehe

isagi - double take by dhruv

he absolutely adores you and will take a lot of selfies, short videos, and candid photos - whether you notice or not. this is because for your anniversary he wants to surprise you with a custom physical photo album.

does the little thing where he wiggles his hand in front of you, indicating he wants to hold yours. gets super pouty if you decline.

when watching reality dating shows, isagi will roll his eyes and call out toxic behavior, claiming that he'll never treat you like that.

he's super quick to defend you if your name comes up in a conversation. doesn't matter if he gets teased as a "simp" or "whipped", he's 100% down to fight whoever.

bachira - glue song by beabadoobee

has a habit of getting into pointless debates and silly arguments. the most recent one being if cereal is a soup - the answer is yes.

you guys have a secret code for each other. three shirt tugs being 'i love you', two tugs being 'let's leave together', and four tugs being 'i want to cuddle right now'.

loves it when you match his texting style, which heavily consists of emoticons and unconventional emojis.

likes to recreate those quick one-cup mug recipes that he finds on instagram and tiktok! not all of them turn out good but he's always eager to show you the final product.

nagi - sundays by emotional oranges

he goes wild at arcades in order to win you cute plushies, not that he has to try all that hard. all the other couples within the vicinity get jealous as they see you haul around a cart filled with giant stuffed saniro characters.

he probably has a battle station, the type with RBG lighting, two monitors, and a mic set up. in his clear PC case, he keeps polaroid photos of you guys so that whenever he's playing games or doing homework he can look over for motivation.

loves planning aquarium dates with you. he spends the majority of the time in the jellyfish section, pointing to various ones and saying "that's us", and you have to physically drag him out in order to explore the rest of the building.

don't be surprised if you're spending your weekends kissing and cuddling all day long. nagi doesn't care if it doesn't go anywhere, he's simply content just having you engulfed in his arms.

chigiri - every summertime by niki

if he notices that you're playing a song often, he'll add it to his personal playlist and act surprised the next time you compliment his music tastes.

he coordinates his outfits with you as much as possible. if you're wearing a pink top with white bottoms, he'll wear a white top with pink bottoms.

he lets you take the hot showers first, although he prays that there's enough warm water for the next round, and cleans up your stray hairs knowing that sometimes you're forgetful.

he's not usually a talkative person but, if you're the type to be uncomfortable with making calls or taking orders, chigiri will step up and do it for you. don't feel like making a doctor's appointment? he's got it covered.

reo - pink + white by frank ocean

his love languages are acts of service and gift-giving. that means whenever he's on the way home, he'll try and stop by your favorite cafe for your usual drink, text you if you have any packages that arrived in the apartment's package room, and asks if you want takeout.

if you guys are walking out of the store to a heavy downpour without an umbrella, reo will advise you to go back inside as he gets the car. he'll drive to the storefront and makes sure you stay dry.

loves leaving the last bite to you - especially when you're both out at an expensive restaurant. he'll even pretend to be full just so you can savor the last bits of his food.

you put him in charge of killing the bugs in the relationship, somehow he's super bad at it and half of them end up getting away.

rin - bad by wave to earth

if a fan requests a picture with him, he'll literally pose next to them like a stick figure with a blank expression. he thinks it unnecessary to touch them or smile if it's not with you.

the most frequent thing he texts you is asking if you've drank any water and if you've eaten today. saying no to any of them and he'll gently berate you over text, stressing over whether or not you're taking care of yourself.

anytime he is texting you, he covers his phone screen if people are around because he wants your chats to remain private between the two of you.

he constantly thinks about whether he's treating you right. he struggles a lot with his forms of communication but when it comes to you he wants to make sure that nothing is mistranslated. the last thing he wants is for his ego to get the best of him.

[spicywhenspeaking]

heaters out: noah x reader

Just some fluff about you and Noah dealing with a little power outage during your weekend away.

🥶🌬️⛄️❄️🩵

“Its freezing, Noah can you check make sure the heater is on please?” you ask from the bundle of blankets you’re buried under on the bed. Noah surprised you by whisking you away for the weekend to a secluded bed and breakfast in th mountains.

“Oh shit.” You hear noah mumble from the other side of the room. “Umm, I think the power is out. Let me run down to the front desk and ask really quick.” He runs over to where you’re huddled and gives the top of your head a kiss before quickly exiting.

You get out of bed to add more layers on, one of Noahs hoodies he brought back from tour and a second pair of fuzzy socks you packed. Hoping back under your mountain of covers you wait for Noah to get back. Several minuets pass and Noah returns with a bundle of fire wood, more blankets and a thermos of something.

“Well a few things.” He begins. “The power is out and we are snowed in for at least the next day or two until the snow plows can get up to clear the roads. Good news is I have firewood, more blankets and hot chocolate.” He throws the blankets onto the already comically large lump on the bed and sets to building a fire in the fire place. Thats the great thing about staying in cute bnb’s like this. Each room has a beautiful fire place but unfortunatly the electrical work is old and apparently prone to outages when the snowfall is heavy.

Crawling out of the cave of blankets, you move to sit on the small loveseat next to Noah as he pours two mugs full of steaming hot chocolate. “There is also a huge collection of games down in the library if you want me to beat you at monopoly again.” Noah jokes and you knock into his shoulder “hey! You totally skimmed from the bank last time.”

The two of you laugh as you warm up by the fire and drink the delicious chocolaty beverage that heats you from the inside out. “This is the best hot chocolate i’ve ever had.” You groan as you finish the last sip. Noah grabs a blanket off the the bed and you cuddle closer together, watching the fire shift in orange and reds and hear the wood crack and splinter. “They said they’d bring some more wood when it’s closer to dinner time so we should stay plenty warm tonight.” Noah tells you. We spend most of the day cuddled and reading by the fire.

Before dinner, which is soup the owner of the air bnb cooked over the fireplace in the main room. We played a game of monopoly like Noah suggested and he beats you. “How!? How are you so good at this game? You- you capitalist!” You joke and he holds his hand to his chest, gripping his heart. “Capitalist? I resent that, I’m just a master strategist.” You roll your eyes and laugh “okay, okay, but next time I get to pick the game.” He holds out his hand to shake and says “you got a deal.”

“Perfect. Strip poker it is.” His eyes widen and then he gets knowing look in his eyes. “You’re just trying to get me naked arent you? Last poker night you nearly got Jolly to bet the keys to his new car.” You both laugh because you’ve always won when you played poker. “What can I say, I guess I’m just lucky.” He leans over the small table you were playing at and kisses you softly. “I think I’m the lucky one.”

After eating you decide to both bundle up and go on a walk in the snow.

“Wow, it's so beautiful. I haven’t seen snow like this since I was a kid” you pick up some of the snow in your hands and ball it up tight. Noah is looking out onto the snow covered field so he doesn’t see you when you wind up to lob a snowball right into his left shoulder.

“oh! It’s on now!” He exclaims as he rushes to make his own snowball to throw in retaliation. The two of you spend the next 20 minutes until the sun has begun to set, throwing snowballs at each other until you start to feel the cold sneaking into your coats.

“Okay, time to go in and warm up” Noah says as he wraps his arms around your shoulder and ushers you back inside the bnb.

Heading back up to the room you get inside and quickly remove the first layer of our snow covered clothes. Hanging them to dry on the coat rack while Noah goes to start up the fire again.

In your warmest pajamas you sit cuddled on the love seat in front of the fireplace as Noah opens the bottle of wine the owner gave him after dinner and pours you each a glass. “This, along with the fire should warm us up pretty fast.” I comment as I take a sip of the silky red liquid. “I can think of a few other ways we could warm up.” Noah says in a sultry voice as he leans to place a soft kiss to my neck.

[cherryredstars]

CONGRATS ON 1k!!!

You writing is truly incredible, you deserve all the love and support!!

If it’s okay, can you write Simon Riley with the prompt ‘reader is sick’? I’d love the comfort after I embarrassed myself by passing out in uni a few days ago because I neglected myself and didn’t wanna be marked as absent,,

I saw that you already wrote this prompt with O’hara. And I wasn’t sure if it was allowed to also request it with ghost, so pls don’t feel pressured to write this and I am sorry if it’s against the rules

Than you in advance, and again congrats!! I wish you the best!!

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x gn!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Self-Neglection/Passing Out

Summary: The best way to be brought back to health.

A/N: Simon is so!!!! I love him guys!!!

Word Count: 1.1K (Not Edited)

“Don’t look at me.”

You turn away from Simon, a small pout on your face and a sniffle to try to unblock your nose. He’s giving you that look. The one that is supposed to make you feel guilty by not directly making you feel guilty. It screams of disappointment and a lecture in the near future. He huffs out, something mixed with annoyance and amusement before you feel the bed dip. You try to push his hand out of your face, looking like a feral cat as you try to slap it away. His strength easily overpowers yours, but he lets you have your moment in hopes of tiring you out enough to coax you into a nap. When he deems it an appropriate enough time to look like you put up a decent fight, he easily knocks your hands away and presses the back of his hand to your forehead. 

It’s warm, too warm, even for Simon. He tries to hide the grimace that forms on his face but you catch it. You groan, flipping over onto your stomach to bury your face into the pillow. Simon tsks, grabbing the pillow out from under you. Your head hits the mattress whipping your head to the side to glare at him. He glares right back, not backing down from this silent challenge you’ve created. 

“Nough, love. You’re already having trouble breathin’ as it is without you suffocating ‘rself.” 

You continue your glaring pout, even as he gently slips his hand under your head to lift it so he can place the pillow back under you. Your face only softens when he starts to push your hair away from your forehead, pressing a kiss to the heated skin. You sigh sadly, body sinking into the mattress. Your whole body aches, muscles protesting with each movement. Your head is the same, a slight pounding at your temple that is only dulled by pain medicine. Simon coos gently at you as he pulls away, mumbling something about getting you something warm to eat. Before he leaves, he tucks the blanket tight around you. 

You sigh as you wait for him, hearing the chatter of pans as he heats up soup. He comes back a few minutes later, a steaming mug in his hand. You expect it to be tea, but you’re overjoyed to find hot cocoa. When you try to reach for it, he pulls it back quickly with a glare. 

“Hot.” he scolds, gently giving it to you again. “And it’s water, not milk.”

That slightly deflates you, but a win is a win. You rather have watery hot chocolate than his bitter earl grey. You hum in thanks, watching him leave again as you take a sip. Your face scrunches up when you pull the mug away, swallowing quickly as you shake your head. It is very hot and you’re sure every nerve on your tongue withered away. Simon returns with a bowl of soup, making your stomach rumble at the thought of food. You prepare to take it, but Simon shakes his head at you. He swirls the spoon around, taking some and holding it steadily to your mouth. 

You frown at him, and don’t meet his eyes as you take the soup into your mouth. It’s good, really good, but the taste is spoiled with your attitude. Or rather, Simon’s attitude. He’s mad. He doesn’t seem mad with his lovey dovey behavior and feeding, but he is. You know him. This is gentle punishment. Him taking overly good care of you to make up for the fact you aren’t taking care of yourself. Hint, the reason why you’re home sick after passing out. 

As he prepares another spoonful of soup, you sniffle. “Sorry.”

He pauses for a second, before feeding you another spoonful. Even with your eyes downcast, he can tell they're glassy. He sighs, lowering the bowl of soup for a moment. His hand finds your jaw. He doesn’t lift your head up, he pulls your face closer to him to press a kiss into your hair. You relax into the affection, sniffing once again. 

“Just want you to take care of ‘urself, love. That’s all,” He grumbles into your hair, thumb gently rubbing your skin. 

He pulls away, switching the mug and bowl. The bowl is warm in your hands, and you look up as Simon places the mug on the nightstand where you can easily reach it. He settles next to you on the bed, silently watching you as you eat. It makes your stomach warm, and you sigh contently when you finish. Simon takes the bowl from you, giving back your mug. The cocoa is cooler now, but still warm. You gulp it down greedily, stomach feeling overly full. You push the mug onto the bedside table, snuggling back into the blankets when Simon returns. 

He hums, observing the way your eyes begin to flutter in preparation to sleep. He taps your cheek gently, and you scrunch your nose up as you spot the medicine in his hands. You try to squirm away from him, but he cages you in between his legs. You glare up at him as he shoves the medicine to your mouth. You turn your head away, but his other hand grips your jaw and holds your mouth open. You have a pleading look in your eyes that he ignores, pouring the medicine into your mouth. You gag as you’re forced to swallow, greedily taking the small bottle of water Simon offers you. You gulp it down, washing away the sour taste. You finish the whole bottle and throw it at Simon, which he only rolls his eyes too. 

“I thought you weren’t mad at me! Stop punishing me already!”

Simon only gives you a deadpan look, shaking his head. “Go to bed, darling. Need the rest. Eyes are practically sinkin’ into your ‘ead and you're becoming delusional.”

You huff out, but listen. You sink into the pillows, your headache and nose finally calming down enough to sleep comfortably. Simon places another pillow under your head, moving around you silently to clean up the mess or dishes and trash. Before he goes, you take his wrist in your hand. He turns to look at you curiously, and you blink and smile sluggishly up at him. 

“Thank you, Si. Love you.”

Simon’s eyes soften and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead again. You close your eyes, and they refuse to open again even after he pulls away. You can vaguely feel the warmth of his palm on your cheek, and you snuggle into it. He rubs at the skin gently before pulling away, and three words break through your mind before you fall asleep. 

“Love you, too.”

[danikamariewrites]

Hi! I love your stories. Could you please write a story where the reader is very sick and Rowan takes care of her? Thank you!

Keep You Cold

Rowan x reader

A/n: thank you anon 💕

Warning: fever and fluff

You woke up to a violent shiver running up your spine. Wiping at your forehead you feel the sweat collecting in your hairline. How were you freezing and hot at the same time?

You turned to Rowan who was still sleeping soundly. An arm outstretched toward you. You pull yourself across the bed, gripping his shoulders as you lower yourself onto his chest.

Still shivering you try call out Rowan’s name. Your head was killing you along with your sinuses. Rowan’s arms gripped you as he stirred. “What’s wrong my sweet? You’re shaking,” he said, his voice groggy with sleep.

He adjusts to sit up, still clutching you to his chest. The back of his large hand comes to rest on your forehead and he lets out a small hiss. “Gods, you’re burning up.”

Rowan rips the covers off of you, rushing you to the bathroom. He sets you down on the floor next to the rub as it fills with cool water. “Lift your arms for me,” he says gently. You raise your trembling arms so he can remove your sleep shirt.

You heard the water shut off but you don’t remember getting in the tub yourself. You feel Rowan’s bare chest on your back, absorbing any warmth his skin can give you in the freezing water. Rowan holds you to his chest and scoops water with his hand letting trickle down your face and scalp.

“R-rowan,” you get out through chattering teeth. “Yes,” he says in a soothing tone. “Can we get out soon?” “Just a few more minutes, my sweet.” You feel yourself drifting off again as the water sloshes around you.

When you woke next, you were alone in bed. You still felt feverish but it was more bearable. Rubbing at your eyes you tried to sit up but failed. Your whole body felt weak and tired. Like you had just fought a thousand battles.

You laid in bed for what felt like hours. You tried to yell out for Rowan, all attempts unsuccessful. Your throat was scratchy and your voice kept coming out quite and broken. It is rare that Fae get sick. You had always been a rare case, getting sick every year since you were a child. And always at the same time.

This isn’t the first time Rowan has taken care of you when you were sick. You must’ve scared him last night when he woke up to you clinging to him. Rowan, whether he’d like to admit it or not, is a worrier. He’s always worried about if you’re safe and he gets worse when your sick. But he dotes on you and you can’t lie, you love the attention from him.

Before you try to sit up again Rowan comes back into the bedroom. A steaming bowl of soup in one hand and a mug of tea in the other. “Morning, my sweet.” Rowan gives you a sympathetic smile as he sets the bowl and mug down on the table.

“Morning,” you groan out. Without asking, Rowan gently cradles you to his chest and helps you sit up against the headboard. “Thank you.” You mumble out.

Rowan kisses your forehead, letting his lips linger just a little longer to feel your temperature. He lets out an unsatisfied hum. “Still too warm for my liking.” He reaches over for the soup, blowing on the first spoonful for you.

You give him an annoyed look. “I can feed myself Ro.” He rolled his eyes at you, “I know, my sweet. But I want to take care of you so will you please let me.” You let out a huff as he brings the spoon closer to your mouth.

You let Rowan feed you the whole bowl and he lets you drink your tea on your own. When your done a couch wracks your body. “Rowan,” you croak out. “Yes my sweet?” He softly strokes your cheek.

“Will you stay in bed with me?” “Of course my sweet.” Rowan climbs into bed next to you, wrapping an arm around you. As you drift off again you feel a cool breeze caress your hot skin.

[chocsra]

"Birds in the House of Flies."

15! Chuuya x gn! asa mitaka! reader

A/N: genuinely sorry but im gonna have trouble posting since tests are a BITCH DAMN, im sorry if u sent a request itll take some time thank you guys 😭 ALSO SORRY AB THE ONE BED TROPE THINGY IM STILL WORKING ON IT WILL BE POSTED TMRW . also asa mitaka is like the only character i kin besides shoko 😭 thank uuuu for the request 🙈

content: based off the building scene in csm, oneshot, slight angst?, pre-relationship, holding hands 🥺, ooc, mentions of suicide, mafia chuuya, civilian reader, slight crack, fluff mentions of girl once

"Fuckin' hang on!!"

Those three words echoed loud in the cold air admist the darkness below your figure, each passing second felt more like an anomaly than the present taking over it's future. A dark whirling pressure pulls you down more, a completely dark void which surrounded you fully, an emptiness that induced fear, unknowingness, it was uncanny.

Despite the dreading pull along your feet, the same body parts you hated for walking - it walked you to your worst and hated places, it held you up when you would much rather decompose in the filth of your bed, something clung onto your hand and held you up even when the only vision you see is a complete reflection of your thoughts, empty.

Sometimes, you hated touch - that was a lie, you hate touch. You hate it when you get a hug that held no value, you hate it when others send warmth to your body, your cold, without any second thought. However, the hand that held yours somehow felt like holding a mug of hot tea, like intaking hot soup relaxingly burning down your throat.

The warmth that held you was a boy, you noticed the ivory complexion laced upon his warm hands, a different feeling than when he was wearing cold, leather gloves. "Dude- you gotta be shittin' me.." a husky voice sighs from the other side, hands deeply clung onto your own in a gravitational pull.

"I'm okay with falling! Just let me go.." you mumble, now you wouldn't have to meet expectations, or feel the dread of waking up ij the morning. You watched as the ability you were trapped in completely used your greatest fear against you; the dark.

You weren't sure how you got into this situation, when you were younger - some people were gifted with special abilities that defy science, yours was no different; but instead of joining an organization to be against or with humanity, you lived your life as somebody normal would.

Only now, your ability got sold for a high price on the black market, not only do criminals desire your skill, but government workers too; strangers from fucking hell. You were taken into the backropes of the Port Mafia, reigning from Yokohama, Japan; the wish was to transport you back to Yokohama in one piece, fuifilled by a trusted mafioso, Nakahara Chuuya.

He was like any other boy your age, he was a nice guy, actually; just in the wrongest, most immoral line of work, at the ripe age of what, sixteen?

And to you, a normal student, the normalization of superpowers was pretty crazy. Nakahara Chuuya was a shithead that showed you of that, he was chill but aggressive, moral but immoral, small but incredibly strong?

"No way I'm lettin' ya go, you're fuckin' crazy!!" he shouts, pulling your limp body up from the void, you pensively look down at the endless pit, reminicing moments where you were at peace. "I'm not crazy, you are! And stop fucking swearing!!" you scream back, dangling yourself and grasping onto the leather sleeves of his jacket.

"You stop fuckin' swearing!"

"Nuh-uh!!"

A heavy silence filled the void, and the sudden tug from his hands. "The ability uses your darkest fear against you, why the hell did you willingly fall?!" the boy shouts back, a little crack in his voice emerged, causing you to lower your eyebrows in slight embarrassment. "Because why would I keep living and fufill expectations I never asked to recieve?!" you answer, eyes flitting to every corner possible in that dark void, a star, a light - no, only his hand. "You can't be serious - I get it! Life is a bitch, doesn't mean you hafta kill yourself!" he argues, pulling you upwards as you dangle your body weight down.

"I am not killing myself!" you hiss, listening as Chuuya retorts with a scoff. "Yeah, you just let yourself fuckin' fall." he chews on his bottom lip stressfully, "Think of all the amazing shit you can live for; dogs, puppies, smoking!!"

"Gross!! Don't you know how much damage that smoking causes your lungs?!" you shout back, the sleeve of your uniform cuffing onto your held up arm. "Fine - alcohol!" Chuuya clicks his tongue, trying to find out luxuries of life. "That's disgusting! The blurry lines between a social drinker and an alcoholic are extremely thin!" the boy tightens his grip in annoyance, "What the hell do ya even like?! Parties?"

"Parties are a mix of sweat and loud noises that give me migraines! Not everyone is a fuckin' gangster, y'know?" the redheaded boy sighs begrudgingly, attempting to pull you up. "..I don't know what girls like, clothes...?" you pause and rub your temple with your free hand, "Just let me go already! Nobody has it worse than me!"

"Fuuck!" Chuuya groans at your dismissal, "I'll tell ya what I'm living for - I saw weird shit until I woke up in the real world when I was like 8?! Now there's a God living inside me!!" you grew silent, ".. I'm not your therapist!" you stammer, causing the boy to hiss. "[Y/N]! Let me help you so I can find out about the past I've never had." you bit your lip torn, hearing as the void went silent.

From the minimal interactions you shared with the ginger, his actions always seemed barricaded, as if he were put behind glass his whole life. And from his story, it seemed pretty right. He's far too loyal with that mafia, and blames himself for the short coming of his old organization. 'Nobody has it worse than me!' rung through your mind, god, how you internally facepalmed. You hated being touched, but you were sort of touched; and as selfish as you were, or are, you had to dress another morning successfully waking up.

"..Or else Ima call the God - O' grantors, of dark dispa-"

"Fuck! You can help me, alright?!"

[abiiors]

miserable together

head is swimming with cough syrup, i have no idea what this is but since matty and i are sick are the same time, i deserve to be delulu

wc: 900

it’s past 10 am on a tuesday morning, yet the entire house is dead quiet. 

well…not really. there’s a small whine from under the duvet; either you or matty, you don’t know who just yet. your feverish bodies are cuddled up together, trying to hang on to the other’s warmth but it’s not comfortable. it’s itchy and hot and sticky but it’s also somehow freezing cold. you sneeze into the pillow, turning your face away from matty’s, unaware that he’s in the same boat. He stirs, just slightly and moves his face into the crook of your neck. 

this close, you’re suddenly aware of how warm his breath feels; and also how uncomfortable it sounds—wet and rattling. it’s not pleasant, any of it. 

You turn. 

‘Matty…’ you speak softly, running a hand down his cheek, ‘you’re burning up, darling.’ he shivers under your touch, moaning something incorrigible. 

a sharp pain lances through your head and another sneeze builds up. you turn again, sneezing as far away from him as possible as you suddenly become aware of all your aching muscles and sore throat. 

‘i’m okay,’ he croaks, eyes barely open, ‘you on the other hand—’ and then promptly launches into a mini coughing fit that shakes the entire bed. 

great, this is exactly what you need in the middle of the week. for both of you to be sick at the same time. you try to remember if you’re stocked up on paracetamol and cough syrup, if you still have enough frozen chicken soup for the two of you.

‘you’re burning up too,’ he pouts, completing his thought from before. 

‘we are just two sickly people on death’s door today, aren’t we?’ you don’t mean to be this dramatic but something about being achy all over and not having him well enough to take care of you makes your frown deepen. 

‘you’re so dramatic,’ he giggles. It almost turns into a cough again but he takes a deep breath and pulls you closer. 

‘you look awful, darling.’

‘aww, thanks matty,’ you roll your eyes. it hurts. 

he sighs and coughs again. both of you need something hot and some medicine. And a change of clothes; that much is evident by how sticky everything feels. later if you have the strength, the two of you might even shower together. but right now you need a plan of action. and teamwork. 

‘how about this,’ he presses a small kiss to your shoulder, ‘i’ll get us some tea and something to eat. you get us some medicine and a change of clothes.’

you nod. in theory, this is an excellent plan. in theory, it would only take five minutes until you’re back in bed and hopefully much more comfortable than before. but tell that to your achy joints and your throbbing head that worsens every time you move even an inch. plus the light is so so bright. 

he’s definitely feeling the exact same. his eyes are droopy and dull, curls sticking limply to his forehead. the dark circles under his eyes are so much more pronounced and his usually soft, pink lips are dry and chapped. in short, he looks awful. exactly like you. 

‘i’m getting up now. i’m moving,’ you mumble into his chest, sedentary as ever. 

‘mm-hmm.’

‘moving at the speed of light.’

‘i’m sure you are,’ he responds drily and his hold on you suspiciously tightens. 

‘blink and you’ll miss it.’ a sleepy warning and it makes him chuckle.

‘baby…’ matty sighs, ‘do you want me to get up first?’

‘...yes please.’ 

he chuckles again. of course, he would find you in all your sick, pale glory cute. but alas, letting him get up would mean that you have to move and if you have to move then you might as well get this over with. but you won’t do it happily. even when he gives you a small encouraging kiss as a reward. you are going to be so grumpy today (as is your right) and drag your feet around like an emo teenager at this utter injustice. 

not even ten minutes later, you’re both back in the room. he sets the steaming mugs of tea along with the biscuits and crackers aside. then you throw the pack of paracetamol, the bottle of cough syrup and a thermometer on the bed. he has already changed into the fluffy jumper and now he’s waiting for you (also in a fuzzy jumper) to get in bed. 

you take turns checking each other’s temperatures; blowing on the tea and taking small tentative sips to soothe your throat while matty patiently waits for the tell-tale beep.

100.3 and 100.4. not the worst but annoying nonetheless. 

‘i always knew i was hotter than you,’ he teases and then squirms away when you try to flick him with the thermometer. you don’t even have the strength to come up with a comeback really. so you just grumble something about remembering this the next time until he pulls you onto him again and kisses your pout. his mouth tastes of illness. so does yours, you imagine. but this is still nice; not having to worry about passing it on to him. instead, you get to snuggle up in bed and be miserable together. 

[zegrvshvghes]

In sickness and health-MK23

It's been a few miserable days, lying in bed with tissues strewn around and a pitch black room. You're barely able to move, with an aching body, and a pounding headache that just won't go away. You're relieved that you have Matthew Knies in your life, and especially in these trying times. He's the one you can always count on, for anything and everything.

As you lie in your sickbed, you hear the sound of Matthew's footsteps, slowly nearing you. He enters the room with a smile on his face and a steaming mug of tea in his hand. He places the tea on the side table near the bed and sits down beside you, tucking you in with a blanket.

"How's my girl feeling?" he asks, putting his hand on your forehead to gauge your temperature.

"Terrible," you croak. "Like somebody ran miles inside my head."

Matthew brushes your hair behind your ear and leans in to kiss your forehead. "I'm so sorry you're feeling this way, babe. I hate it when you're sick."

You manage to crack a small smile, and take a sip of your tea. The warmth of the liquid feels soothing on your throat. You put the mug back on the table and wrap your arms around Matthew's neck, pulling him close.

"I'm so glad you're here," you whisper.

Matthew hugs you tight, planting a kiss on the top of your head. "Always, baby. I'm always here for you."

He sits with you for a while, talking about inconsequential things, trying to distract you from your symptoms. You appreciate his conversation, not to mention the kindness in his gestures. As you lie there in his arms, you slowly drift into a light sleep, grateful for his comforting presence.

***

It's a couple of days later, and you're still feeling miserable. Matthew had taken the day off to take care of you, and you're grateful for his kindness. He's been running errands, getting you soup, and just sitting with you, his presence a soothing balm for your ailing soul.

As you lie there, staring at the ceiling, Matthew enters the room with a tray. He sets it down on your lap carefully, a bowl of piping-hot soup, some crackers, and fresh tea.

"You need to eat something, baby," he says, sitting beside you.

You grimace at the sight of food, not quite feeling up to it. Matthew notices your reluctance and starts cajoling you gently.

"Come on, you've got to keep your strength up. You can do it. Just a few spoonfuls."

He brings the spoon to your lips, coaxing you to take a bite. It's not as bad as you thought it would be, actually quite tasty. You take another spoonful and another until the bowl is nearly empty.

"See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Matthew says, smiling.

"You make everything better," you say, giving him a small smile.

Your smile fades when the headache suddenly grows terrible. It throbs like a drumbeat and you shut your eyes, trying to fight back tears.

"Hey, hey…" Matthew murmurs, stroking your hair soothingly. "I'm here. Let it out, babe."

You turn towards him and bury your face in his neck, letting the tears flow freely. He holds you in his arms, just listening, stroking your hair and humming a tune.

As the minutes tick on, you gradually calm down, your breathing evening out. Matthew pulls away slightly and cups your face in his hands, looking at you with concern.

"How about I put on some music, huh?" he says, a soft smile on his lips.

You nod, grateful for the suggestion. A few moments later, the room's filled with light music. Matthew turns down the lights and sits beside you, pulling you to sit on his lap.

"Let's just sit here, okay?" he whispers, his arms wrapped around you.

You close your eyes and lean in, breathing in his scent, letting the music wash over and wrap you in a warm cocoon of safety. As you listen to the soft melody, you feel a slow sense of relaxation. The aroma from the incense that Matthew lights seems to add a fragrant note, creating a peaceful atmosphere.

For the first time in days, you forget the headache, the cold, and the congestion. You're just there with him, enveloped in his protective embrace, and the soothing music. You're in love.

***

It's another day of feeling under the weather, and this time it's worse than ever. You're shivering, despite the blankets, clutching at your stomach, feeling like you're about to vomit.

Matthew comes into the room, concern etched all over his face. He takes one look at you and immediately gets to work. He brings you a bucket, a glass of water, and some anti-nausea medicine, which he helps you swallow with difficulty.

As you look up at him, trying to convey your gratitude, he sees the look of weakness in your eyes.

"What is it?" he asks, concerned.

"Everything hurts," you whisper.

"Shh, shh," he soothes, cupping your face in his hands. "It's okay. I'm here for you."

As if on cue, he starts to hum a slow and melodic tune, leaning down to place a tender kiss on your forehead.

"I'm not leaving your side until you're better," he says firmly.

You swallow back tears, touched beyond words. His unwavering support and kindness make you feel stronger. You wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly.

"Thank you, Matthew," you whisper, your voice barely audible.

"Anything for you, my love," he says, returning the embrace. "Anything for you."

And as you close your eyes, feeling the warmth of his embrace, the sound of his hum a lullaby seeming to carry you into restful sleep, you realize that he's more than just a caretaker - he's yours.

***

Days go by and you’re starting to feel better finally, you love it when Matthew wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you cuddle on the bed. It's the little moments like this that make your heart race, and you know you're exactly where you're supposed to be.

Matthew's warmth is comforting, and you feel safe and protected in his embrace. You look up at him and smile, knowing that he's the one you want to spend your days with. Being close to him like this is all you need, and you're grateful for every moment you get to spend wrapped up in his arms.

Sad sick you, thank god matthew is there to help 😛

[avatar-anna]

Love your writing!! Can you write something with a sick Harry? Maybe he starts feeling unwell after a show, not thinking much of it thinking he’s dehydrated and hungry but after hanging with the band and you for a while he asks if you guys can leave and he ends up throwing up throughout the night having caught some sort of bug? Lots of fluff and comfort for Harry! Ah I would love

ok, so i kinda cheated on this one. this is from a series of one shots that i made for one of my fics on my wattpad. it's really similar to your request and very sweet. enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You walked in the door of yours and Harry’s house after dropping your daughter off at preschool. Setting your keys down in the little bowl on the kitchen counter, you fixed a cup of hot tea and brought it upstairs. 

It was quiet in the house, the sounds of early morning cartoons and your daughter singing along now gone. You picked up toys and stray shoes as you made your way down the hall toward the master bedroom, quickly tossing everything into your daughter's bedroom, which was floor to ceiling lavender and white, and closed the door behind her.

When they put together the room, you didn’t think of yourself or Harry as interior designers, but your husband apparently had a whole plan in his head of how he wanted his daughter’s bedroom to look. You let Harry have his fun, too excited for the baby to finally arrive to pay attention to the steadily increasing budget. You would lecture him on it later when you realized how much he spent, but it turned out great in the end, and your daughter loved it, and that’s all that really mattered to you in the end.

“Knock, knock,” you said quietly, knocking on the bedroom door. Hearing a grumble from the other side of the door, you opened it and sat down on Harry’s side of the bed. You couldn’t even see him, just a mess of pillows, blankets, and a small tuft of hair poking out underneath it all. “How are you feeling, baby?”

Harry groaned again, but there was movement underneath the pillow pile. His head poked out, and you leaned over to kiss his forehead. His nose was red and his eyes watery, small beads of sweat dotting his hairline. “I’m okay,” he croaked.

“Oh, babe,” you cooed, resting your hand against his forehead to check his temperature. 

Harry woke up early this morning in a cold sweat, his shivering and coughing waking you up as well. He was supposed to take your daughter to school, but you told him to stay in bed and rest. Harry was too tired to protest, pulling the extra blanket you had laid on the bed up to his chin and falling back asleep almost immediately.

You had started to notice that Harry always got like this right after he came home from tour, all the traveling and long nights performing onstage finally catching up to him. Anticipating this, you took the next couple days off of work so you could take care of him; you would never tell him, but Harry could be a very needy sick person, shuffling around in his robe and asking if you could stay in bed with him just a little bit longer. It was very different to how you were when you got sick, but you were happy to take care of him and get him back on his feet, at the very least so that you didn’t have to follow him around and pick up the trail of tissues he usually left behind.

“Here,” you said when Harry finally sat up. “I still can’t quite get it like your mom’s, but I think I got pretty close this time.”

You handed over the mug you’d brought upstairs, and Harry took it from you, whispering his thanks as he blew the steam away. You stood up from where you were sitting to go do some chores around the house, maybe make some soup for Harry while he fell back asleep. As you shifted on the bed, though, Harry grabbed ahold of her hand, warm from holding the mug of tea in it.

“Stay? I know you work in a little bit, but just for a few minutes?” 

It was a sight for sore eyes. Harry’s hair was mussed and splayed messily across his forehead, his tired eyes rimmed with red as he tried to give you his most convincing pout.

Deciding it would be a nice surprise for him to wake up and still find himself wrapped up in her arms, you simply nodded and took off your shoes before climbing back into bed. Harry immediately curled into you, his arms finding purchase around your waist and his face hiding from the rest of the world into the crook of your neck. You never believed him, but Harry always swore that whenever he was sick like this, being cuddled up to you, was the best medicine anyone could ask for, even going as far as saying it made him feel better physically when he got to hold you like this.

You rested your chin on top of Harry’s head and started to scratch up and down his back and through the knots in his hair with your fingers, and you swore you heard him purr when your fingers ran delicately across his scalp. Harry fell in and out of sleep for the next couple hours, getting up once or twice to go to the restroom, but he was pretty much in a sick-induced haze the whole time. 

In between bouts of sleep, you got up occasionally—to grab your phone, to change out blankets, and to rest a cold towel on Harry’s forehead when you thought his fever was spiking a little too much for your taste. But you mostly stayed in bed with Harry, smiling faintly whenever his hands subconsciously reached for you, pulling you close whenever they latched onto your shirt or hand, or whatever part of you he could grab.

The last time Harry stirred, he seemed more aware of his surroundings. He blinked his eyes open, widening them slightly when he realized you were actually in bed with him and that he wasn’t still dreaming. “What are you still doing here?”

Harry’s voice was low and scratchy, from disuse and whatever bug he’d caught. You cupped his cheek in your hand and rubbed your thumb across his skin, still warm, but not as feverish as before. “I took the day off. Figured I would try my hand at nursing for the next couple days.”

He smiled at you, and it was dopey with sleep. Bringing his hand out of his mountain of blankets, he pinched your nose affectionately. “You didn’t have to do that, but I’m glad you did,” he whispered to you, and you had to fight the urge to smile. No, you didn’t have to stay home, but you were pretty sure Harry would be worse off if you hadn’t. And you’d missed him too. It wasn’t easy being away from him for so long.

You recognized the look that passed over Harry’s face, but as much as you loved him, you were not about to risk getting sick by giving him a kiss. You sat up and started putting your shoes on. Turning towards Harry, you kissed his cheek, and you felt his face break out into a small grin against your lips. “I’m going to pick up our beautiful baby girl and then go to the store to grab some stuff for you. I’ll make dinner when I get home, okay?”

“Can’t I just have one?” Harry asked, his voice sounding like a whine at the end. You stood at the foot of the bed, contemplating whether you should oblige him or not. He won you over when he jutted out his bottom lip and said, “Please?”

“Alright, but just one. The last thing we need is for whatever you have spread to me and our daughter.” You leaned in, planning on just pecking Harry on the lips and going on your way. Harry had other plans on his mind, though, and cupped the back of your neck and held you there longer, savoring the taste of your lips on his after being away from home for so much time.

“Satisfied?” you asked when you stood back up, but Harry’s lazy grin told you everything you needed to know. 

“Mm, yes. I’m feeling better already.”

You playfully rolled your eyes and walked towards the door of their bedroom. Before you left, you turned around and blew him one final kiss before you left. Harry caught it and pressed it to his chest, then closed his eyes to go back to sleep again.

When you picked up your daughter at the curb of her preschool, she animatedly chatted your ear off about everything she did today. You listened dutifully, chiming in where you were supposed to, but she mostly liked to ramble about random things until she tired herself out and fell asleep in the backseat of the car. Before your daughter could actually sleep this time, you pulled up to the store by their house and walked in with their hands clasped together.

“I wanna shop with you, Mami,” she said to you when you started pushing a plastic red cart around. 

You couldn’t quite remember how this little tradition started, but nearly every time your daughter went with you or Harry to the grocery store, she perused the aisles on either of her parents’ backs. Apparently it was the only way she thought grocery shopping was acceptable.

“Sure, bug, hop on,” you told her, bending down for your daughter. 

You walked through the various aisles, picking up stuff you remembered you needed at home as you made your way to the pharmacy section, occasionally putting back the things your daughter tried to sneak into the cart without you noticing.

“Pleaaaseee,” she asked when you put back a bag of chocolates. It appeared your daughter and your husband both had a sweet tooth. You eventually let her, figuring Harry would be the one to eat most of them anyway.

As you and your daughter shopped together, you could feel the stares on the two of you, the recognition that came with marrying a famous musician and having his kid like a blanket over your shoulders. Your daughter had seen Harry’s fans at the few concerts you had taken her to, and any interactions they had with them together were great, each fan they met totally friendly and respectful of any boundaries set up between them and your daughter. But you weren’t at a concert right now, and it was important to you and Harry that your daughter had as normal an upbringing as possible, and meeting fans while you were buying groceries and Harry was waiting for them at home sick wasn’t necessarily what either of you would consider normal.

While you were aware of the few teenage girls in the produce aisle with their phones subtly pointed in your and your daughter’s direction, she remained blissfully unaware as she played with strands of your hair that was tied up in a ponytail. You waved and gave the fans a small smile before turning and heading towards the pharmacy section with your daughter humming on her back. You never wanted to be rude to Harry’s fans, not ever wanting to make him look bad, and it just wasn’t who you were, but they had places they needed to be today.

When you had everything you needed, you checked out and drove home. On the way back, your daughter asked you to play her Papá’s music, a staple for her anytime she was in the car and going somewhere. You obliged, playing all of your daughter’s favorites and signing along as you weaved in and out of  traffic. When they got home, you went upstairs to check on Harry, your daughter and trailing behind. He was still asleep, but when you checked his temperature again, it had gone down. 

Harry, who wasn’t as fast asleep as you initially thought, blinked his eyes open to find his daughter peering closely at his face. He gave her a tired half-smile and opened his blankets for her to cuddle into. She grinned and got under the covers with Harry, settling against his chest. Modern medicine be damned, he thought. Spending time with his two most favorite girls in the whole world was better than anything you brought home from the store just now.

“Hey bug, why don’t you grab that book we bought the other day and you can read with your Papá,” you told her as you cleared off some of the tissues and vitamin-C packets on Harry’s bedside table.

“Will that make you feel better?” she asked Harry, and he brushed the pad of his thumb across her cheek, a warm smile on his face. 

“I have no doubt in my mind it will. Reading with you is my favorite thing to do in the whole wide world.”

“I thought you loved singing the most,” your daughter said curiously, her head tilting to the side.

Harry sat up against the headboard and pulled his daughter into his lap. “You’re right, but I love you more.”

You knew that, but it warmed your heart to hear him say it. You moved to leave your and Harry’s bedroom to get started on making the three of you dinner, but Harry took your hand before you could make it very far. “I love you too,” he said, that same look as before gracing his features once again.

Oh, what the hell, you thought. You leaned over and kissed him, only this time it didn’t last as long because your daughter was there to separate them. She and Harry, but mostly Harry, managed to convince you to just order in tonight so you could all spend time together cuddling up on the bed and reading your daughter's favorite picture books, Harry regaling his two girls with tales of life on the road every now and then. By the time you’d eaten, watched a movie, and read half of the books on your daughter’s bookshelf, the sun had set and it was time for their day to end, and you told her that it was time to get ready for bed, in her bed. 

“Why can’t I stay here, Mami?” she asked, clinging to her father. 

You looked to Harry for help, but you quickly realized that he was not going to be on your side on this one. He got like this when he’d been away from home for a while. You understood that he wanted to make up for lost time, but he was sick, and they really didn’t need a sick four year old on their hands as well. 

“Papá is sick, love bug, so he needs lots of rest so he can feel better.”

“But he said I make him feel better,” she argued, not making a move to leave her father’s side.

You sighed and shot a look at Harry, to which he only gave a sheepish smile in response. “She does,” he said, his voice not as scratchy as it was earlier today. “She really, really does.”

You knew you had been beat, trying to get in between daddy-daughter time proving to be nearly impossible. “Okay, little lady. But we still have to brush our teeth and get into our pj’s, so come on.”

She reached up, letting you carry her away to get ready for bed. You couldn’t quite believe the amount of gift-giving that happened when the world found out that you and Harry had a child together. And for the first couple weeks that they had brought her home, gifts from friends, family, people that Harry had worked with in the past, people you didn’t even know, were sending all sorts of stuff, but mostly designer clothes. Even four years later, she was still receiving package after package.

“What is a four year old supposed to do with custom Gucci?” you had asked Harry when you opened a package from his favorite designer. “I mean, she’s going to grow out of this in a few months.”

While you had had your reservations, Harry was like a kid on Christmas, opening each package with a steadily growing grin on his face. “I don’t know, but aren’t these the cutest shoes you’ve ever seen?”

Of course it was all adorable, and your daughter looked absolutely to die for in all of it. You thought some of it was a little over the top, like the monogrammed Chanel and Versace tracksuits, but you figured it would make good sleepwear and cozy clothes for her daughter. 

You both came back into your room. You were still worried about all of you sleeping in the same bed when Harry had been so sick this morning, but he seemed to be doing better than when he initially woke up. 

“How are you feeling?” you asked him, trying to give him a once over.

Harry had moved to the center of the bed so that you and your daughter could be on either side of him. As you settled into bed, he pressed tiny kisses into your skin. “Better.” You opened your mouth, but Harry beat you to the punch, knowing exactly what you were going to say next. “And I’m not just saying that. I’m feeling better, and I’ve missed my girls. So come here and kiss me. Please.”

You rolled your eyes, but rested against your husband anyway, pecking him on the lips. Wanting his attention, your daughter climbed over Harry and in between the two of you. “See? I made him feel better.”

“You sure did,” you agreed, kissing your daughter’s temple. “Now get some sleep. You have school tomorrow.”

She eventually did fall asleep wedged between her parents, but you and Harry stayed up, Harry having found some newfound energy after napping almost all day. 

You and Harry went downstairs to spend some time alone together on the couch. He pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder as she fired up the TV. 

“Did you ever think we’d actually be here when we first started dating? Married? A kid? Me wiping your nose with a tissue without so much as a flinch?”

He laughed lightly, his fingers brushing across the ring on your left hand. “Yes, yes, and most definitely yes.”

“Oh come on, be serious,” you said, shoving his knee. It wasn’t something you thought about often, but now that you asked it, part of you did wonder. None of his answers would change what you already had, either, you just liked to see Harry squirm every once in a while.

“Well, we had decided to take things slow,” Harry started, and you nodded along as if you could picture their first date as if it was yesterday. “But I really, really, really, really liked you.”

Harry emphasized each “really” with a kiss to your skin, making you blush and trying to shift out of his lap, but it only made him hold on to you tighter. While you could picture the earlier days of your relationship with clarity, it still felt like lightyears away from where you were now. Sometimes it surprised you how far the two of you had come, but nothing about how you felt for Harry, how you managed to love him more and more every day since their first few dates caught you by surprise. It just made sense.

After a few more minutes of reminiscing, you put on a movie like you and Harry had originally planned. Harry didn’t care what you put on, he was just happy to be with you after months of touring around the world and only seeing you through a phone or computer screen. He had more than watching a movie on the brain too, but he had a feeling you wouldn’t be in the mood while he was still sick. He settled for laying down on the couch with you, pressing lazy kisses wherever he could and letting his hands travel along the skin under your sleep shirt. 

You knew Harry was trying to start something, but you had been in this position before. He would be sick, sleep it off all day, and bring you downstairs while your daughter slept soundly in their bed. What he never seemed to remember was that like clockwork, Harry’s small bout of energy fizzled out halfway through the movie until he ultimately fell back asleep; he didn’t even realize you put on the same movie every time he came home from tour.

When you heard Harry’s soft snores over the sound of a movie you now pretty much knew by heart, you checked her phone. He lasted a little longer this time, you mused.

Turning off the TV, you nudged Harry’s shoulder; he often carried you up the stairs if you fell asleep, but you definitely couldn’t return the same courtesy. You nudged him a little harder, whispering his name until he finally opened his eyes. 

“What happened?” Harry asked, his voice sounding like he was still asleep.

“You fell asleep,” you whispered, helping him up and holding his hand as they walked back upstairs.

Harry trudged behind you, feeling like he had reverted back to where he was this morning, a headache starting to form and his body beginning to ache again. Rubbing his eyes and sniffling, he got back into bed.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to finish the movie. I know how much you like that one,” he said, his words slurred from tiredness and the medicine you made him take before he got under the covers with you and your daughter. He could say that they cured his ailments all he wanted, but you still believed in the power of ibuprofen and NyQuil.

“That’s okay. Some other time,” you told him, fighting your knowing smile. The only reason he thought it was your favorite was because they watched it every time he came home from tour.

Harry heard an inflection in your voice, but he was too tired to make any sense of it. Turning the light off on his bedside table, he settled against his pillow, your daughter already curled into your side. He kissed the top of her head, then yours, then turned around and went to sleep.

[calx-bdo]

haikaveh oneshots

kaveh frowns seeing the surplus food in the fridge.

no, not because of his "lack of favourites" (to which there are many soups, thank you.), but it's rather due to the fact that alhaitham's food was also in the fridge. all of it.

kaveh's not dumb, he can pick up on his roommate's eating habits quickly. especially the significant lack of appetite. (urgh, this one worries kaveh the MOST.) but not to the extent of leaving food out altogether.

hence, kaveh makes one very quick trip to the bazaar to grab a quick snack for alhaitham. this one recently hit the shelves, and kaveh's sure that alhaitham would most definitely enjoy this. "taste supersedes presentation.." kaveh can already hear alhaitham's voice boring into his skull.

well, that's the whole reason kaveh fell in love with him in the first place. kaveh returns home with a skip in his step, rapting his knucles kightly on alhaitham's door before entering.

"haitham?" his voice takes on a softer tone, peering inside the dimly lit room. "oh, عزیزم, are you.. alright?" kaveh's warm gaze landed on the pile and mountain of books stacked upon one another, alhaitham's hair in a tight grasp. if kaveh didnt know any more, he could say alhaitham is one tick away from completely losing his hold onto his sanity.

kaveh repeats the soft nickname. "عزیزم?"

only then does alhaitham look up, circular glasses slipping off his nose.

alhaitham's cracked voice mumbles out. "حبيبي .."

"my sweet boy, are you alright?" kaveh immediately rushed to alhaitham's side, his food left forgotten on the table. kaveh's hands cupped his cheeks slowly, fingers softly brushing across his cheeks. his red eyes took one look across the table and the numerous coffee mug stains and lets out a tut.

"alhaitham. what did i tell you about proper sustenance?" at this point, kaveh's just playing with his hair, alhaitham's face buried into his waist as his buff hands (feeble scholar my ass!) wrapped tightly around his waist. "mmmfhh.." came alhaitham's reply, a little muffled.

"okay okay, just.. be sure to eat your food, alright? the aunties at the bazaar gave me these free food, and it's fresh, so be sure to eat it while it's hot! and.. jeez, alhaitham. stop drinking so much coffee! i'm starting to think that your blood is pure caffeine."

alhaitham nods at his words, burying his face furthur into kaveh's body.

a smile blossomed on kaveh's face.

───

babe in persian = عزیزم

حبيبي= my love in arabic

───

kaveh was (again) dusting off the numerous books that lined every inch of their house, when he spots a surprisingly new book. his fingers traced the words on the spine as he read the title.

"28 recipes for Soups! (most loved by moms and grandmas alike!)"

that got kaveh thinking. he clearly didn't purchase this, and both alhaitham and him didn't receive any cookbooks as presents. cyno and tighnari don't really care for food, and he doesn't know any chef that might have lent him this book. that only leaves one option - alhaitham purchased this book.

.. what for?? kaveh is confused. has alhaitham even expressed any interest in cooking?

whatever. kaveh shoves that book into the back of his mind before continuing on.

it isn't literally 5 minutes later that he finds yet another cookbook on alhaitham's shelves.

"okay. what the fuck. did these multiply or what?" kaveh pulled the book out of the shelf and scanned it again.

"27 new recipes for Soups! (limited edition, new stock!)

limited-?! alarm bells immediately go off in kaveh's head. limited? alhaitham is definitely the type to go scrambling after a book when he discovers that there's limited stock, claiming "he must have it!" and it's "a precious rarity". but a.. cookbook? alhaitham's worries extends to this type of books too?

jeez.

out of curiosity, kaveh placed the duster down on a nearby table before flipping the book open. one recipe catches his eye.

"...cream mushroom soup...liyue parsley... matsutake mushrooms and enoki mushrooms..." kaveh mumbles to himself. why does all these ingredients sound so familiar?

it clicks in his head. it's what he ate yesterday.

wait. wait. alhaitham... specially went out of his way to buy this limited edition book, learn to cook to the best of his ability, did all of this.. for him?

a warm feeling tugs at his heart.

the very next night, alhaitham flips open the book to see a green (the very shade of his little dendro mirrors too!) post-it on the next recipe.

"thank you for all you do love. even buying the limited edition books, hmm? <3

- k 💛"

crimson red blooms all over alhaitham's pale face.

what a tease.

───

this is doing very little to help alhaitham's stress.

alhaitham and kaveh promised to go visit and see nilou's dance at zubayr theatre, even though alhaitham's autism and sensory issues make it a problem for him to be comfortable in the crowded grand bazaar. this, kaveh knows.

so when kaveh turns his head to look at alhaitham, in a moment of pure madness, alhaitham tries to mask his discomfort by flashing a small smile.

kaveh immediately gets suspicious.

alhaitham isn't one to smile. especially not at performances. the only time theres ever a curl upwards on his lips is when he's reading a book, and mocking the author for their "extreme lack of knowledge" and their "stupidity knows no bounds.". once, kaveh even heard him utter "common sense is apparently not common anymore. what kind of nonsense are these authors spilling into their books? they don't deserve their works published. goodness."

that was the most hatred kaveh has ever seen anyone express to an inanimate object. yes, kaveh's rantings to mehrak isn't counted! he isn't even that heated when ranting! and mehrak isn't inanimate! ugh!

kaveh grips alhaitham's forearms tighter. "oh? crap."

a tear rolls down alhaitham's cheeks. "kaveh, people keep touching me and i-"

"i'm sorry lovely.. i shouldn't have dragged you through a crowd. i wasn't thinking."

kaveh brings up a hand to caress alhaitham's cheeks.

"let's go home, okay?"

they both fall in step to walk home together.

"we can invite the others for dinner later." kaveh's hand tightly grips alhaitham's.

"is that okay?"

───

` i feel like i need to explain here. whilst i'm not autistic myself, i watched aimee's videos (shwimzii on tiktok, go check her videos out, theyre great!) and this oneshot mostly revolves around the nilou's dance tiktok (the thumbnail is nilou, here's the link)

alhaitham is depicted overwhelmed by the sensory overload and starts to cry, hence i implemented this into the story. if there's anything wrong with it or anything i had written wrongly, please don't hesitate to tell me!

───

kaveh comes across a picture of alhaitham and him in their old akademiya uniforms.

he picks up the frame and examines the picture.

archons, they look super young. like, dont have eyebags under their eyes young. like, no callouses and ink stains on their hands young.

"kaveh? what's that..?" alhaitham walked over to kaveh's side, hand wrapping around his waist. kaveh flushes at this. even though they've been dating for so long, kaveh still feels like a young schoolboy in love.

which takes them back to this picture.

"oh. i recall now. i remember when i had stuck to your side alot, since..."

kaveh patiently waits for alhaitham to finish his sentence.

"my grandmother and parents had recently passed away."

kaveh swears alhaitham's grip on him tightens.

"oh, عزیزم.."

kaveh mumbles out, placing a chaste kiss to alhaitham's cheek.

.

"hello! i'm kaveh, a second year student at the akademiya, assigned to guide you! what's your name?"

alhaitham looks at the hand extended to him.

"oookay, no name then! what darshan are you in? i'm in kshahrewar, the architecture darshan!"

it takes a while for alhaitham to mumble out a soft "haravatat."

"ooh, haravatat! that's a rare darshan due to the complicated runes!" kaveh beams at the boy's response.

alhaitham nods silently.

"well then, shall we explore the school? mr..."

this time, alhaitham responds rather quickly.

"alhaitham. my name is alhaitham."

"what a beautiful name! let's go around the school, okay alhaitham? it's big, so it's easy to get lost."

alhaitham followed kaveh around the school.

surprise surprise, when they reached the library, alhaitham immediately turned on his feet and left.

"hey, what? what's going on?" kaveh asked, very confused about alhaitham's apparent dislike of the library.

"i have no need for the library."

at kaveh's confusion, alhaitham further elaborates.

"i have more resources at home."

alhaitham following kaveh around proves to be a common sight around the akademiya. there's even a new joke floating around.

"whereever the blonde goes, the falcon follows."

haha, very funny.

alhaitham's relation to the falcon is an interesting one, however. the falcon is not a common rune to be found in, however, alhaitham's studies usually tend to revolve around runes of the sort revolving around this particular animal. kaveh swears he even saw a carving of the falcon on alhaitham's desk. and it's not just falcons too, all kinds of birds were present in alhaitham's home.

it was kinda cute, if kaveh's being honest. he wonders if he should tell alhaitham about the pet bird he has.

"alhaitham, you seem to be interested in birds!" kaveh mentions in the akademiya's cafeteria, seeing alhaitham engrossed in a book.

"mhm! there's many different species of birds, but my favourite personally is the falcon. did you know that like fennec foxes, falcons mate for life? and that peregerine falcons are able to migrate 15,500 miles every year! and..." alhaitham continues to ramble excitedly about different bird facts, mostly falcon related.

"say, alhaitham, why do you like vultures and falcons so much?" kaveh asks one day.

"mm, no idea. vultures are just, cool, i guess. and falcons..they were my mother's favourite. i try to think about her, remember her, but it's hard. the only way i feel like i can really honor her is to.. well, research something about her. it's.. painful, to say the least. but it hurts less with you."

a fond smile erupts on kaveh's lips.

───

day after day, alhaitham finds himself running his fingers through kaveh's hair again and again.

it's so smooth, so silky..

that's why alhaitham took it upon himself to maintain kaveh's hair.

he observed the crappy shampoos that kaveh uses. it's not good quality, and it's too rough on the scalp. unacceptable.

alhaitham knows that good shampoos are sold in sumeru. in the grand bazaar. that crowded place.

he grits his teeth.

"kaveh, i'm going out for a while. be back soon."

"oh, okay handsome, stay safe!" kaveh's voice rings out from the study.

not even a mere 10 minutes later, alhaitham returns home, with a weird plastic packaging that he's holding onto like it's a lifeline, and evident tear stains on his cheeks.

"..alhaitham? what's wrong? love, did you go somewhere crowded? oh dear, come in, don't stand outside! my love, are you okay?" kaveh rattles off questions, and alhaitham can merely stand there.

"i bought this for you." alhaitham took out a bottle of shampoo, the price tag clearly scratched off.

"it's for you. i know you dont do well with expensive gifts, but.. i want you to accept this."

his gift is met with kaveh's lips on his lips, capturing him in a soft kiss as kaveh wraps his hand around alhaitham's neck.

"i love you, so much."

───

[depravity-n-savagery]

Billy Taking Care Of You While You're Sick Headcanons ♡

♡ A/N: I'm sick and I need the comfort, so here we go 😭🤧 - 18+ Minors DNI - implied smut, comfort, flirting and fluff ♡

♡ - You'll try to put distance between the two of you. Telling him not to come over or get too close to you because you don't want to get him sick. Does he listen? Of course not. He shows up at your door with a bag of medicine and other things, pushing past you when you try to block him from coming in.

♡ - "I'm taking care of you. If you got a problem, then do something about it." He'll say with a grin, knowing you're feeling too weak to fight with him. "That's what I thought."

♡ - To your surprise, he goes into total mom-mode (with a healthy dash of Billy-typical roughness to it). Following a routine he remembered of what his mother used to do for him when he was sick. Making you soup and tea. Wrapping you in a cocoon of blankets and giving you medicine at the appropriate times. You're a total brat about it, huffing and mumbling that you can take care of yourself. He pays it no mind, finding it kind of adorable actually. Hard to take your attitude seriously when you're face is flush from a fever and you've got a permanent little pout on your lips.

♡ - He stays overnight, only leaving to pick up more soup and to rent a few of your comfort movies. Steve looks at him like he has two heads when he sees the tapes in his hand. "Since when are you into musicals?"

"Since my girl needs a pick-me-up. Why do you ask, Harrington? Jealous?" 😏

Steve hurries to get him out of the store, hiding how flustered he was.

♡ - Halfway through The Sound of Music, laying across the couch with your head in Billy's lap, you're not even paying attention to the movie anymore. You're just staring up at him, giving into how loved he made you feel. "You're beautiful, y'know that?" You say, drawing his attention away from the screen. At first he tries to play off how your words made him feel. "I think that fever's got you a little delirious, babe."

You don't let up. You want him to feel just as loved as you do right now. "I mean it. Prettiest boy I've ever seen. Best boyfriend too." This time he can't hide the pink in his cheeks. He just scoffs and allows a smile to creep across his face. "Shut up."

Satisfied, you smile back. "I love you too."

♡ - He tries to go in for a kiss, but you quickly cover your mouth. "Nooo! I don't wanna get you sick. It's already risky having you here. I draw the line at swapping spit. Not until I'm better." You try your best to get across how serious you are, and he actually pulls back. "So I can't kiss you here?" He asks, pointing to your lips. You shake your head 'no'.

"What about here?" He points to your cheek and you nod, so he presses his lips softly to your warm cheek.

"Here?" He lowers his lips to your jaw, "What about here?" Then your neck. Each kiss slowly shifting from gentle and chaste to sinful and scorching hot. By the time he got to your collarbone, you felt the arousal between your legs threatening to soak through your panties. "Come on, beautiful." He'll pick you up, and carry you upstairs to the bedroom. "Let's get you to bed. I got a few ways we can sweat that fever out."

♡ - Speaking of carrying you, you didn’t expect how hot it would be to watch him care for you. You were usually turned on by his aggressive displays of strength, like the way he manhandled you during sex. But the simple and even helpful ways he showed his strength? You were practically drooling. The way he would carry you around with ease if you felt too weak to make the walk. Helping you in and out of the tub. Watching him carry a tray with a full bowl of soup and a mug of tea on it with one hand, and holding a medicine bottle in the other hand. He didn't even struggle.

♡ - A few days later, your symptoms finally start to fade. The fever is gone. Your voice sounds almost normal again, just a bit strained. Your runny nose has been reduced to very mild sniffles. "Thank you, Billy." You allow him a tight hug, but still no kiss. "I honestly don't know what I'd do without you." He was about to say some smart response, until a sneeze interrupted his speech. The two of you freeze.

"Goddamn it... I TOLD YOU I'D GET YOU SICK!!"

♡ A/N: I hate this time of year 😮‍💨 I get sick so easily and so often. UGH!! This is gonna be miserable 🥲 Send me some good Billy or Eddie fic recommendations so I have something to keep my mind off of it ♡

Masterlist, Ao3 ☆

[prettytoxix]

A Sick Day ☕️

Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: y/n has a fever before school and Steve forced her to stay home and takes care of her all day.

Content: fluff, just fluff, being take care of while sick

A/n: I thought this was kind of a cute idea, I just love the idea of someone taking care of you while you’re sick, ya know?. It’s always so comforting so I figured why not Steve?

Word count: 955

I get into Steve’s car like I do every morning. He picks me up everyday on the way to school. I actually find it kind of adorable. I jump inside and give him a quick kiss before buckling up. Steve looks at me with anxious eyes. Something seems wrong.

“Whoa, y/n, you’re not looking too hot this morning.” He observes.

“What? What do you mean?”

Steve takes the back of his hand and places it gently onto my forehead. He holds it there for a moment and then moves his hand to my cheeks then doing the same on my neck. His hands are soft but feel slightly calloused in some areas.

“You’re burning up. You’re definitely not going to school today.” He turns the engine off and leans back in his chair thinking. Moving his hands through his hair while the gears in his head spin. Steve unbuckles his seat belt and gets out of the car.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“I’m getting you back inside. You have a fever and your skin is a freaky pale color.” He insists.

“Steve, I’m fine. I mean a feel a little sick but nothing I can’t handle.” I inform him.

“Y/n, you need to rest. You’re sick.”

“Fine.” I say stubbornly because I know he won’t give it up. I unbuckle and grab my stuff from the back as I head back inside my house. My parents already left for work so I’ll have the house to myself. Steve follows me inside and closes the door behind him. “Are you staying?” I ask, hoping his answer is yes.

“Of course I’m staying. Somebody has to make sure you’re taking it easy today.” He flashes me a big smile and walks into the kitchen. He finds a suitable mug only after inspecting each one. The mug gets filled with water and gets placed into the microwave to heat up. Steve goes to the cupboard that holds all of my different types of teas and grabs chamomile tea bag with some honey.

While Steve is doing that I figured I might as well get comfortable so I go upstairs to my bedroom and change back into pajamas. I put my backpack away because out of sight out of mind. I get my favorite blanket, a blanket that Steve actually bought me for my birthday several months ago. It’s soft and warm, which is perfect for a sick day. I make my way back downstairs and see that the cup of tea is placed on the coffee table. Steve is stuffing a VHS tape into my VCR. He notices me walk down the stairs and he moves back onto the couch with the remote in hand.

“I made you some tea.” He said, motioning towards the cup in front of him.

“You didn’t have to do that.” I tell him kindly.

“Y/n, stop being so stubborn and let me take care of you.” He opens his arms and gives me a big grin welcoming me to come sit close to him. I grab a pillow setting it on his lap so I can rest my head against it and get comfortable.

“Before you get too comfy,” he remembers, “let me grab you a cold wash cloth.”

He comes back quickly with the cold wash cloth in hand. He sits down and allows me to rest my head back into his lap. He places the wash cloth against my forehead delicately and specifically. He rests his hand on my back and rubs circles as I become entranced into the TV. The movie he decided to put on was The Empire Strikes Back.

“Was that so hard?” He chuckled outwardly.

“Yes.” I tell him sarcastically. I move closer to him and he fills my hand with his own.

We sit for the rest of the day on the couch. Steve doesn’t let me move an inch once I’ve laid down. The wash cloth get changed every 30 minutes or so and every time the movie ends Steve gets up immediately to change it.

Later in the day he insists that I need to eat something so he makes me some soup and brings it out to me.

“Aren’t you going to eat some?” I ask when I notice he only brings one bowl out.

“No, it’s all for you. I suspect you’ll want some more and I didn’t want to deprive you of your soup needs.” He jokes.

“So chivalrous of you!”

I finish my soup in minutes and Steve takes the bowl from my hands. I can hear him washing it before placing it in the sink.

“Y/n, it’s already 8 o clock!” He calls out from the kitchen.

“Really?” Thats unbelievable for some reason. It feels like the day just started. “Do you think you could stay over tonight?”

He comes around the corner and back into the living room. “Of course I can, let’s go on up to your bedroom alright?”

I stand up, wrapping myself in my blanket and heading upstairs. Steve and I lay down In my bed. He grabs the book on my nightstand and starts to read it out loud to me.

“Franny. Though brilliantly sunny, Saturday morning was overcoat weather again, not just topcoat weather, as it had been all week and as everyone had hoped it would stay for the big weekend- the weekend of the Yale game…” Steve reads.

I’m asleep by the first chapter. Steve puts the book down once I’m asleep and falls asleep himself. Our bodies gently entangled between each other.