#sick character

[sicktember]

Official Sicktember 2023 Prompt List!

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[2023 Sicktember Collection on AO3]

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[text version of the prompt list below the cut]

Prompts:

1. Hopelessly Bad at Self-Care

2. Quest for a Cure

3. "What happened to your phenomenal immune system, huh?"

4. Hiding an Illness

5. Preventative Measures (Not Taken)

6. Sick and Injured

7. “You’re a Jerk When You’re Sick”

8. Persistent Fever

9. White Coat Syndrome

10. “The only place we’re going is to the pharmacy”

11. Beginner’s Guide to Faking Sick

12. Old Wives Tale

13. Anxious Stomach

14. ‘‘I shouldn’t be worried about you, but for some reason I am’’

15. Sick in an Inconvenient Place

16. Consulting the Internet/Web MD

17. Magical Remedy/Healing Potion

18. “Wear Your Coat, You’ll Catch a Cold”

19. Curled Up With a Pet

20. Cramping Pain

21. "But if you stay, you'll get sick too"

22. Terms of Endearment/Nicknames

23. Coughing Fit

24. “Did you just sneeze?”

25. Confused/Disoriented

26. Pink Eye/Conjunctivitis

27. Uncooperative Patient

28. “I should have stayed home”

29. Side Effects/Adverse Reaction

30. Patient 0

Alts.

“I Could Really Use a Hug Right About Now”

Fuzzy Socks

Pounding Headache

Forehead Kisses

“I’m so sorry”

[somber-sapphic]

Hii!! Been a fan of your of your stuff for a while now, could I please request Nat x reader with maybe Nat coming back home from a mission sick or something? using prompts: "Could you pass me a tissue, please?" + “I think I caught something. My head is pounding." + “Let me fuss over you."

Thanks!!

Healing Hours

〖Summary: Natasha returns early from a mission with a bad case of the flu.〗

〖Word Count: 1.3k〗

〖Pairing: Sick Natasha x R〗

〖Notes: I hope you all enjoy this!〗

You sighed and slammed your book shut, unable to on the words on the page. Natasha was supposed to be back from her mission in two days and you were a mixture of excited and nervous. She had been radio silent for days, only sending messages concerning the mission. 

That meant no sweet texts to you, only communication with Cap and Tony.

It was standard for a mission like this, she was in a potentially dangerous situation and to minimize any danger they minimized contact. Even though you understood it didn’t mean you had to like it. You had continued to train while she was away, the physical act of hitting something distracting you from your anxiety. If you could keep your energy up you could keep the emotions at bay. 

With a frustrated groan you pulled out your laptop, resigning yourself to some YouTube cat compilations. Those usually held your attention, and it helped that cats were adorable. Maybe you could convince Tony to let you have a cat, if you laid out a good enough argument he might let you. 

For a while you let yourself be captured by the videos moving across the screen, watching the pixelated cats fall off of things only to get up unharmed, attack humans, and be afraid of toasters. You were pulled out of your feline trance by a slight jiggle of your doorknob.

You looked up from your laptop, staring at the door handle and reaching for your weapon. No one was supposed to come into your room, and you had strict rules about knocking before opening the door. You grasped the smooth handle of the knife under your pillow, tensing your body in preparation for a fight. 

There were a million thoughts swirling through your mind, how had someone gotten into the tower? Why hadn’t FRIDAY alerted you? Were the others safe? 

A dark silhouette appeared in the doorway, and you threw your knife, the blade sinking into the wood of the door frame beside the person's head. It was a warning shot, you didn’t miss. Your goal was to scare the person off to avoid an altercation that you didn’t want to get into.

“Jesus Y/n, what the fuck was that?” A raspy voice asked, someone flicked on the light illuminating a very grumpy-looking Natasha. She walked into the room and threw her toolbelt onto the dresser, being much less careful than she usually was. She loved that belt; it had saved her life many times and she always handled it with care. 

“You fucking scared me! You’re supposed to be in Latvia, not breaking into my bedroom!” You shot back, lowering yourself against the headboard, the tension leaving your body. The adrenaline coursing through your veins began to calm down, slowing your rapid heartbeat. 

“And you’re supposed to be asleep, it's 2:00 in the morning.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. 

“Like you're any better,” Your words trailed off as a sharp sneeze cut through the room, leaving Natasha hunched over and sniffing. 

“Why are you back early?” Suspicion laced your words as you took in her disheveled appearance. When she was in uniform, she went to extensive efforts to make herself look professional even in a more relaxed setting. 

This time her clothes were slightly wrinkled, and her hair was a mess. You didn’t expect her to look picture-perfect after coming back from a mission, but she did try to make herself look stoic coming home to impress the men. She turned to face you, revealing an unnatural flush to her cheeks and red-chapped nostrils, the telltale signs of the flu. 

“I think I caught something; my head is pounding. Steve pulled me, decided I wasn’t healthy enough to be in the field. He threatened to come and get me himself.” She mumbled, sniffling again. She rubbed her nose against her sleeve and coughed into the air. 

You smiled at the idea, picturing her arguing with Steve who would seriously come and get her if he felt the need. 

“Okay love, go get showered and I’ll get some supplies. Do you think you’ll be okay to do it by yourself?” You asked, concerned that she might fall over if left alone. Natasha rolled her eyes, wincing at the motion. She shook her head slightly as if to clear it then nodded.

“I’ll be fine. Just want to get it over with, then sleep.” 

“Yeah, I bet you do. It’ll feel really good I promise.” When you heard the shower running you climbed out of bed, getting to work. You rifled through the drawers of your bedside table and pulled out a bottle of Nyquil alongside a thermometer, a box of tissues, and a bag of cough drops, all things left over from the last time you’d gotten sick. 

Next, you tiptoed into the kitchen and got a glass of water and one of juice, not wanting to make tea until Natasha asked for it. She rarely drank it and you knew she didn’t like it but you’d be happy if she consumed any fluids. 

When you returned to your room you were surprised to find your shivering girlfriend curled up in the bed, her wet hair splayed out over the pillow. You’d only been gone for ten minutes tops, you hadn’t expected her to have showered so quickly. 

“Did you enjoy your shower?” You asked, setting the glasses of water and juice on the small table by her side of the bed. She shrugged and sniffled thickly, rubbing her fist against her red nose. 

“Could you pass me a tissue please?” Her voice was so stuffy, poor thing sounded awful. And she didn’t look much better, not that you would tell her that. You grabbed a tissue from the already prepared box and pressed it into her hand, turning a way to simulate privacy as she blew her nose weakly. 

“Oh, my sweet Natty, you really don’t feel well do you…” You muttered, more to yourself than to her. Natasha nodded and turned to look at you with a pout set on her chapped lips. Barely three seconds later her gaze unfocused and she snapped forward with a rough sneeze that she didn’t have time to cover. 

“Okay well that wet hair isn’t going to help. Sit up for me, take some medicine, and I’ll dry your hair while we watch a movie.” The redhead did what you instructed, lifting herself onto the pillows with a wheezy sigh. 

You poured out a dose of the medication and watched her drink it, making sure that she got all of it. The gulp of “grape” flavored goop was quickly followed by half a glass of juice. You were internally pleased with the amount of juice she had just willingly drank, usually keeping her hydrated was a chore. 

“Get comfy and pick a movie, I’ll grab the hair dryer.” She settled on Jaws for reasons that you couldn’t explain. You knew she loved it but you didn’t exactly consider it a good sick day movie. It didn’t matter, she already looked half asleep. You doubted she’d make it through the first act even with the sound of the hair dryer. 

“C’mere baby, let me fuss over you.” You climbed into bed and pulled her into your lap, positioning her so that she was laying back against you with her head on your chest. Just as you’d predicted it didn’t take long for her eyes to start drooping, the sound and warmth of the hair dryer seemed to be lulling her to sleep. 

“M’sorry for getting sick.” She mumbled, a huge yawn escaping her lips. You rubbed her shoulder and pulled the blankets up around her, making sure that she was comfortable. 

“No apologizes necessary Nat. You just relax, I’ll be right here when you wake up.” 

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[notfeelingverywell]

physical touch in sickfics is everything

checking for fever with forehead touches, back of the hand to the cheek, palm to the base of the neck, pressing foreheads together, maybe even a temperature-gauging forehead kiss etc.

whumpee nuzzling into their caretaker's cool hand

temple massages, belly rubs, tracing comforting patterns onto the whumpee's arms

hair stroking

steadying touches when the ill character sways or becomes deliriously distracted

whumpee cradled close and patted firmly through coughing fits

whumpee burying themselves into the caretaker's neck

whumpee nodding off on their shoulder

whumpee faints into their caretaker's/friend's/lover's/found family's arms, and lifted carefully

tender sponge baths/wipe-downs

caretaker hugging close a shivering whumpee, running their hands down the ill character's arms to warm them up

please feel free to add!

[bugbytez13]

anyways more rambles sorry yall

one of my favorite whump tropes is non sexual intimacy ESPECIALLY in platonic relationships. and one of my favorite acts of non sexual intimacy is bathing or washing it’s just. UGHHH

a character whose too sick to do much and has just been lying in their own filth for days until their friend finds them and decides to give them a bath… they are so drained that they have to fight not to fall asleep in the warm water.. it helps soothe their churning tummy and relax their muscles and auauauaghgh i’m going insane

or maybe two characters just got back from some sort of mission/fight. one is covered in blood and cuts and all sorts of injuries and their partner has to gently clean their wounds and wash them. they can’t hide the small grimaces of pain and hisses when their partner hits a sensitive spot

auuuugghh i just love this trope so much

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

I have a sickfic prompt for you!

Okay, so imagine Peter sick in bed. Tony babysitting because May has to work. Before May leaves she mentions to Tony, “Can you grab his pjs out of the laundry? He always wants a particular pair when he’s feeling sick-“

And Tony doesn’t think anything of it. So he goes to grab Peter’s clothes and sees the pjs…

Are a tourist shirt and Hello Kitty pants

This ask came in all the way back in March. It was a fun idea so I held into, hoping to eventually turn it into a mini-fic. Well, friends. Today is the day. Have a big dose of soft, guilty Tony and sick, cuddly-warm Peter.

Hello Kitty Pajamas - 826 Words

“May! May, I’m here!” Tony called as he let himself into the Parkers’ apartment. He’d received a message an hour prior requesting his presence. Specifically, so he could babysit a significantly ill spider-baby while his aunt went in for a mandatory shift. He’d hesitated at first because was he really the best choice? May had assured him there was no one else. And that even if there were, she was sure Peter wouldn’t want anyone but him. An unfamiliar warmth had bloomed in his chest, prompting him to obtain his keys.

“Sorry!” May called from down the hall. “I'm sorry! He sweat right through his clothes. I was changing the sheets, so you didn’t have to.”

Tony pulled a face without meaning to. A slight laugh escaped May’s lips as a result.

“He’s in the shower now. That should help with a lot of the congestion.” she paused, sighed and twisted her lip between her teeth. “I know he’s old enough to take care of himself. I just- with his fever going up and down so rapidly I didn’t want him to be here alone. Just in case.”

“It’s fine, May. You know I don’t mind spending time with him,” he said, keeping his voice as steady and nonchalant as possible. “Thanks for changing the sheets, though. Housekeeping isn’t really my thing.” They both knew, without a doubt, that he’d do it again if needed. But neither of them commented on it.

"Shoot! How did it get so late? I really need to get going.” He watched May scramble to find her purse and keys. “His favorite pajamas are in the dryer. Can you grab those for him?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks again, Tony,” May said, already halfway out the door. “You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

Tony smiled and waved to her toward the hall. “Any time, May. You know that.”

Once she was gone, he located the laundry area and opened the dryer. Inside was a heap of towels of varying sizes. Among them, he managed to stop a white shirt and some pink fuzzy pants. Although it wasn’t until he hauled them out that he realized what they were. Hello Kitty was patterned across the bottoms, and the top was the over-sized tourist shirt. He suddenly realized it was the outfit he’d purchased the kid directly after their first argument. He blew out a breath as an image of Peter, wearing that exact outfit with tears running down his cheeks popped into his head. Guilt began to swirl in his gut. He dug around in the dryer hoping to find different pajamas. He couldn’t fathom how those could possibly be Peter’s favorite. Unsuccessful, he clutched the shirt and pants tightly in his fist and carried them to the restroom door.

“Pete?” he called. “I’m putting your PJ’s outside the door.”

“Thanks,” Peter rasped, coughing harshly after. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Take your time, Bud. No rush.”

Tony sat down on the couch. His leg bounced and his fingers tapped on his knee as he thought more about that decidedly horrible day. The whole thing has been his fault, really. If he’d just told the kid he’d called the FBI… He squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand down his face. God, he’d been a jerk. He shouldn't have shouted in the kid’s face and really shouldn't have taken the suit. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the bathroom door creak open.

“Hey,” Peter said as he rounded the corner. “Sorry, May made you come.”

Tony swallowed with difficulty. The sight of the pajamas making his stomach churn. “I-”

“Are you okay?” Peter interjected.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” Tony quipped. Peter continued to frown. “I’m fine. Just- thinking.”

“Dangerous.”

“Definitely,” Tony agreed, then sucked in a breath. “May said those are your favorite pajamas.”

Peter hummed positively and dropped down onto the couch. “They’re comfortable.”

Tony's brow furrowed. “They don’t make you think about that day?”

“Sometimes,” Peter shrugged. “But mostly they make me think about you.”

A warm wet head landed on Tony’s shoulder. Water soaked through his shirt. He found he didn’t really mind. “I’m so sorry, Kid,” he whispered. “I really didn’t handle that situation very well. I didn’t communicate with you the way I should have, I lost my temper when that backfired, then I took it all out on you. I shouldn't have done that. Forgive me?”

“Already did,” Peter yawned. “Like- a long time ago.”

It shouldn’t have been that easy, Tony thought to himself. But Peter is such a good kid… he leaned his cheek against the top of Peter’s head and sighed. “Tired?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I don’t feel so good.”

“Well, let’s get you into your bed, hmm? May changed the sheets and everything.”

Peter nodded and started toward his bedroom. Tony followed behind, smiling softly as the kid exhaustedly crawled under the covers. Astonishingly, the sight of the pajamas didn’t bother him so much anymore. He traversed the room and ran his fingers through his kid’s hair.

“Sleep well, Kiddo,” he murmured. “I’ll be out there if you need me.”

[esbee-daisy]

Sickfic prompts? Listing out my first fave? I genuinely don’t know how to tumblr so here we go…

A and B are out in the ice cold wildness on some mission

- B falls into a frozen lake (maybe they’re on it despite A’s warnings but they’re trying to get something that will help someone)

- A pulls B out, B is barely conscious but sputters out water

- B tries to stand but their legs aren’t working and they crumple back down to the ice

- A has to carry a soaking wet and hypothermic B through the start of a snowstorm. B fights to stay conscious and A is terrified by the ragged weak breath against their neck. They’ve never felt anything so cold

- finding shelter in whatever is nearest…maybe an abandoned cabin or for maximum pain, a cave or overgrowth

- A frantically trying to warm a delirious B, who is resisting anything warm because OMG IT IS SO PAINFUL (and B’s subsequent struggle between lucid moments of wanting to be held by A, feeling freezing, but feeling burned by A’s gentle touch)

- A grows more terrified as B slips in and out of consciousness. B is the one with medical training, A doesn’t even know if they’re doing things right!

- after much detailed angst and hurt/comfort, A finally thinks B’s hypothermia is passing and they’re out of the woods

- but they’re not because A finally lets themselves drift off to sleep, but the next time A wakes up, B is burning with fever and a terrible, rattling cough. They’re limp and pathetic but coherent now which in some ways makes A feel worse than when they did when they were unconscious because B is aware of their situation now and in so much pain, so scared and vulnerable and SMALL (which is totally out of character for B) and A really doesn’t know if/when help is coming

[jacksfandomrandom]

~Sick days~

Summary: Vaggie is sick and tried to hide it from Charlie but her girlfriend is way too caring for that.

warning: vaggie does throw up in this fic, so if you aren't comfortable with that, click off.

Vaggie had woken up that day feeling restless and sore. Right off the bat, she could tell that it was going to be a shitty day. She rolled over to the side so she and Charlie could have morning cuddles but found the bed lacking a certain hellborn. Sitting up, she checked the time, wondering if she had just gotten up early or if she slept late. It was 9:30. Shit, she was late. Charlie never had the courage to wake up her sleeping beauty.

Vaggie quickly sprung out of bed but right away regretted it because she got extremely dizzy and nauseous and she developed a headache. She shook it off and started to get dressed.

When she got downstairs, she saw that Charlie and the rest of the group were already starting on activities. They were doing some sort of ice breaker activity.

“Hey Vaggie, Glad you could join us!” Charlie greeted her, “Did you have breakfast yet?”

Vaggie shook her head, “I’m not hungry,”

“Okay… but please eat something,” She held up a few pieces of fruit that she had for the whole group to enjoy. Vaggie nervously took a few and consumed them.'

During the whole activity, she felt herself get worse and worse. Halfway through, she almost fell asleep because of how tired she was. She got barely any sleep during the night because of how bad her nose was stuffed.

She was half conscious a little while later when she felt someone tap her shoulder. She looked up and saw that it was Charlie.

“You okay, Hon? It’s break time," she said. Vaggie yawned before slowly standing up.an itch in her throat caught her off guard and she fell into a coughing fit. Charlie was by her side, rubbing her back and telling her that it was okay.

“I’m fine,” She answered, clearing her throat.

“Are you sure? Maybe you should lie down,” she suggested. Vaggie tensed. If she were to find out that she was sick, Charlie would probably take the day off to take care of her. Although she would do anything for that to happen, she couldn't show weakness. it made her feel guilty to make others worry about her.

“No, really, I’m fine, I’ll get the next activity ready,” She said before trotting off to the kitchen. They would be cooking together as a bonding activity. 

Charlie wanted to rebut, however, Vaggie escaped the conversation before she could say anything. She was really worried for her. She could tell that her girlfriend was hiding something.

During their break, Charlie joined Vaggie in the kitchen. She saw how she struggled to clean the area and get everything ready. She could barely lift up a box and she stopped and started panting. As if she were in pain.

“Shit, Vaggie, be careful!” Charlie went to grab the box out of her hands.

“I- I’m fine..” Vaggie said before she began to sway. Everything hurt. Lifting that box up didn't do any good and made everything worse. 

She covered her mouth, before turning to the side, away from Charlie and the box, and spilled the bits of fruit. She coughed, and Charlie could tell she had tears running down her eyes

“It's okay, sweetie, you're alright,” Charlie rubbed her back as more bile started to come out of her mouth.

Vaggie was beyond embarrassed. Here was Charlie, trying to comfort her throwing up girlfriend while she was just trying to work.

“I'm *cough* sorry,” Vaggie choked out before heaving. Her headache got insanely bad and she started to feel like she was about to pass out.

“No, Vaggie, don't be sorry, you can’t control it,” Charlie continued to rub her back and then pressed a kiss to her head.

After her body seemed content and satisfied, she collapsed into Charlies arms, her vision fading to black.

When she eventually regained consciousness, she found herself in her and Charlie's shared king sized bed. It was really comfortable and she wanted to go back to sleep but Charlie immediately noticed she had woken up.

“Vaggie!” She hugged her tightly, “I didn't think you'd wake up! You were running a high fever after you passed out,” 

“Is that why my skin feels really salty?” She tried cracking a joke. It felt like she had sweated an ocean but then chilled down in a freezer. 

“Yeah, I need to change out your ice pack too,” Charlie reached up and grabbed Vaggies ice pack from her forehead. The sickee couldn't feel it because it had gone warm and she had a bad headache.

As Charlie replaced the ice pack, Vaggie felt really guilty. she shouldn't be making her worry this much about her. Vaggie was usually the protector, the guardian, the reliable one, not the other way around. She's not used to being treated like this. It actually felt kind of nice. But the guilt out-weighed the nice feeling.

“Char, I’m sorry I’m making you take care of me, I’m fine and i shouldn;t be taking up your time,” She confessed. Charlie looked at her with a flabbergasted expression.

“Babe, don’t you ever say sorry for me taking care of you. I get that you’re usually the one who is protective and strong, but you can be vulnerable every now and then. You can let other people take care of you, you don’t have to be the reliable one all the time,” counseled Charlie. She took Vaggies hand.

“O-okay, I’ll try…” Vaggie sniffled. She knew it’d be hard to start letting people see her vulnerable but she knew it’d help their relationship. Charlie hugged her again but pulled away when she heard Vaggie wince. Her stomach still hadn’t fully stopped hurting, even though she was completely empty.

“Sorry, sorry, is your tummy still bothering you?” vaggie nodded.

“Do you think you can stomach some soup? You need to eat something, especially since you haven’t eaten anything today,” She suggested. Vaggie shrugged but agreed that she should probably eat something. So she let Charlie heat up some soup for her.

When she returned with the piping hot soup, she insisted that she fed her. Even though it was pretty embarrassing for Vaggie, she couldn't help but feel a sense of love in it. Maybe being vulnerable around your loved ones was great. 

She managed to finish the whole bowl of soup before Charlie decided she should get some more rest. However, Vaggie didn’t want to be alone. She asked if Charlie would stay with her while she slept and luckily, she did. Charlie made sure she was extra comfy in bed before cuddling up next to her. She kissed her goodnight before throwing an arm over her, spooning Vaggie. The day wasn’t the best, but if it ended with Vaggie and Charlie cuddling, than the day would be okay.

[medusapelagia]

We are not making sense at all

written for the Spicy Six Winter Fanworks Challenge by @thefreakandthehair

Rating: General Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Prompt: Warm Soup WT: Pre-relationship, sickfic, sick character(s), Christmas 1985 WC: 5108

Christmas was never Eddie's favorite holiday, it always reminded him how lonely he was: no family to spend the holiday with, only Wayne who usually worked at Christmas for the double pay. A few times Gareth parents have tried to invite him but he always declined the invitation and buried himself in his trailer, watching silly Christmas movies, eating chips, and drinking beer on the couch like his old man. What a legacy, right?

But this time is even worse: not only he is home alone, but he is also sick. The metalhead has done his best to hide it from Wayne but now that he is finally alone he can’t stop coughing and sneezing and the floor of the trailer is covered in crumpled tissues that he is too tired to throw in the bin, while his neighbors are celebrating playing some Christmas music so loud that the trailer is almost vibrating. He can’t really complain, after all, he is used to playing metal music so he assumes he can endure hearing Jingle Bells for the umpteenth time: what he really can’t stand is the phone that keeps ringing. It seems that every person who knows him has decided to call him to wish him a Merry Christmas, which is probably fair, it’s Christmas after all, but all Eddie would like to do is nap on the lumpy couch while watching some stupid movies about Santa Claus or any other Christmas Miracle. His favorite movie is Little Lord Fauntleroy: even if he is too old to still indulge in such fantasies, he still dreams that one day a rich parent will reach out to him, telling him that he searched for him for years and that he is actually super rich and he can leave Hawkins whenever he wants.

He will take Wayne with him, of course, and he will miss the Corroded Coffin and the Party, but the Corroded Coffin are destined to split up as soon as Gareth and Jeff go to college so he doesn’t feel too bad at the idea of abandoning them.

But that’s just a fantasy. 

Eddie coughs again, while the stupid phone keeps ringing; when he finally gathers the strength to stand up and get to the phone, Dustin’s happy voice wishes him Merry Christmas, asking him how is he going to spend it and telling him that if he wants he can still join him and his family.

Eddie sighs, Dustin doesn’t have a huge family either, it’s just him, his mum, and probably Steve Harrington, and not only he doesn’t want Dustin’s pity, but he is pretty sure he doesn’t want to spend Christmas with Harrington either. And he is sick, which is the perfect excuse to finally shut up the little shrimp.

“Thank you Dustin, but I’m feeling a little bit under the weather, I don't want you to catch any of my germs.” He says, coughing for good measure.

“Oh no! Being sick at Christmas is the worst! One year I got sick and I had to spend Christmas in bed, it was awful! Thankfully Santa still brought me some toys and I could play a little in the afternoon when I felt a little bit better, but waking up with a fever on Christmas day is no fun!” he tells him “Do you need anything? I could ask Steve to drive me to the trailer! I have a few comics that you haven’t read yet.”

“Don’t worry, I’m good, I just need to sleep a little and I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure? I’m sure Steve will not mind.”

In which world Harrington will not mind getting to the Freak’s trailer on Christmas to bring him some comics? 

Eddie chuckles, pretty sure that not only he would mind but he would be really pissed, even if probably he’ll do it if Dustin asks him to. It’s incredible how that little shrimp has both of them wrapped around his finger like two stupid puppets, but no, thanks, Eddie still has enough self-respect “I’m good, I swear. Thank you for offering.” 

“If you are sure…” Dustin finally agrees, even if he doesn’t sound one hundred percent sure about it.

After the call Eddie decides to unplug the phone and gets back to his couch, ready to spend the rest of the day napping and watching television.

***

He must have dozed off for longer than he thought because when he opens his eyes he doesn’t even know what he is watching on the television and the room is way darker than it was. For a moment he wonders if he woke up on his own, but then he hears the insistent knocking on the trailer door and finally gets up to open the door.

“Did you forget the keys, old man?” Eddie asks, convinced that Wayne is the one knocking, but he freezes when he sees that the person on the other side of the door is nothing less than Steve Harrington, fallen school king, ex-jock and richest boy in town.

“Hi.” He says, smiling, holding a Tupperware in his hands “Henderson said you are not feeling well.” But when Eddie doesn’t move he chuckles “Will you let me in or what?”.

Eddie moves from the door and lets the Harrington’s boy enter his trailer. As soon as he turns toward the living room he understands that there is no way he can hide how messy he is: there is a pile of tissues all over the floor, and the remains from his breakfast are still on the kitchen table.

“I… I…” he tries to come up with an excuse but Steve simply smiles.

“It’s ok. You are not feeling well.” He replies, getting closer to the kitchen “Can I have a pot, please?”

Eddie nods and gives him the only clean one that he finds and, even if it’s way bigger than needed, Steve takes it and pours the content of his Tupperware into the pot.

“Claudia made it?” Eddie asks, smelling the tasty soup that Steve is heating.

“Nope. It’s my nonna recipe. It’s a foolproof method against the cold.” He tells him.

“Your nonna made it?”

“Well, the recipe is her, but she died almost ten years ago so I’m the one who actually cooked it. I’m sorry it took a bit, but you can’t rush perfection, right?” Steve smirks and Eddie stares at him, astonished.

“That’s really kind but… why are you doing this?”

Steve shrugs “You know Dustin, right? He was worried about you and made me promise that I would check on you and I agreed.”

“And the soup?”

“It does wonder, you’ll see.” He promises, stirring the soup while Eddie sits on the chair, watching Steve move around with ease: the trailer’s kitchen is really small but Steve seems to find everything he needs even if he has never been there before.

“How can I help you?” Eddie finally asks, feeling like a guest in his own room.

“Can you give me a couple of bowls?” Steve asks, then turns, bushing “Sorry, I just assumed it was ok with you if I eat here but I just realized that I should have asked.”

“No… it’s fine. You cooked, so the least I can do is offer you a bowl and a spoon.”

If the smell isn’t enough, the taste is absolutely delicious, and Eddie is very vocal about how much he likes it, singing Steve’s praises.

“It’s just a warm soup.” He tells him, avoiding Eddie’s stare and preparing a bowl for Wayne to reheat in the microwave.

“It’s absolutely delicious!” Eddie insists. Wayne is a kind man but he is no cook and all they are used to eating are pre-made dinners that he heats in the microwave, so eating a magical soup that will nurse him back to health is something really special to Eddie.

“I’m glad you liked it.” Steve says, cleaning the bowls and what was left from breakfast before Eddie can stop him.

“Would you like to watch a movie with me?” Eddie proposes, then he suddenly feels ashamed “Sorry, I’m sure you have better things to do than staying here with me. You already brought me the soup… and I don’t want you to catch whatever my illness so please ignore me… I don’t know why I asked you…”

“It’s fine. I have a very strong immune system and I don’t have anywhere to be, to be honest: Robin is at his Uncle’s home and I told Dustin that I was coming here so my choices are watching a movie with you or at my place.”

“No date for King Steve?”

Steve chuckles “No, no date Eddie.”

It’s the first time Steve calls him Eddie and it sounds nice.

They sit together on Eddie’s little couch, their knees bump when they sit and Eddie laughs awkwardly, embarrassed to be so close to King Steve “All the movies I have are either western or horror movies, I fear.” He says, kneeling on the floor to look at the pile of VHS.

“It’s fine, I work in a video store, and I’m used to watching every kind of movie.” Stevee replies, making himself comfortable.

They are halfway through an old western when Eddie turns toward Steve, his profile is lit up by the black-and-white movie on the screen.

“Hey, Steve.”

“Mmh?”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

***

Somewhere between the second half of the movie, Eddie must have fallen asleep, because when he opens his eyes he is lying on the couch and there is no trace of Harrington anywhere. 

For a moment he wonders if he might have dreamed of him, but his Tupperware is still on the kitchen counter and Wayne is eating the soup.

“Nice boy.”

“Uh?”

“Steve, I think? Chestnut hair and kind smile?”

“Oh, yeah. He came because he knew I was sick.”

Wayne nods “As I said. Nice guy. And good cook.” He concludes, eating his soup.

Eddie nods, getting up and going to sit next to Wayne.

“Are you feeling any better?”

“Much better, actually. Steve said it’s the soup. It has some magical properties.”

“Bet it does.” The old man replies, ruffling Eddie’s hair “You know you can tell me anything, right boy?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Wayne nods and turns to clean his bowl.

“What? What are you implying?” Eddie asks, confused.

“Nothing. I’m going to bed, do you want to keep watching the television?”

Eddie shakes his head and goes to bed, still wondering how was it possible that King Steve came to his rescue.

***

Two days later Dustin is at Eddie’s door.

“What?” Eddie asks annoyed, he is not used to waking up so early when he doesn’t have to go to school, that’s what holidays are for: sleep. 

The boy gives him a very serious look before saying “It’s Steve.”

“What about him?”

“I called him and he didn’t answer.”

Eddie sighs “Dustin, he is a young boy, he is probably dating someone and he slept at their place, that’s what older boys do. Now go home and don’t bother me again.”

“No. Not Steve.”

Eddie snorts “If there is someone who is going on dates is definitely your friend Harrington.”

“You don’t get it, Steve always answers. Always. Especially if I call him on the walkie! But he didn’t! Neither yesterday nor today.”

Eddie sighs, pinching his nose “And what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to go to Steve’s house: you can pick a lock, right?”

“What?! I’m not going to risk two years for break and enter because Harrington fell asleep after fucking someone!” Eddie protests, crossing his arms and glaring at the kid.

“It’s not like that! We just have to be sure he is fine! Robin is not here or I would have asked her! Steve doesn’t have anyone else: just the two of us.” He says seriously and Eddie can’t suppress a smile.

“You are serious, aren’t you?”

“I definitely am.”

Eddie sighs “Ok, I’ll go check on your babysitter, but I want you to go back home, ok?”

“What if he needs help? He had two concussions in the past, I know how to help him and…”

“If he needs that kind of help I’ll drag him to the hospital, but I’m sure he’ll be out with some pretty girl and if you really want me to pick the lock of the richest house in town I don’t want any kid around, is that clear?”

“But…”

“Is that clear?”

Dustin nods, unconvinced, and then glares at Eddie “You call me the moment you find him, ok?”

“I’m telling you he won’t be there.”

“I’m telling you he will be, I checked and his car was parked in front of his house!”

Eddie raises his arms with a sigh “Ok, fine, I’ll call you, ok? Now go, and don’t bike here again! It’s dangerous.”

Dustin nods and gets back to his bike yelling “Call me, Eddie!” one more time before biking back toward his home.

Eddie sighs, gets back inside, puts on his leather jacket, and takes the van keys before driving toward Harrington’s house.

When he gets to Loch Nora he sees Steve’s BWM parked right in front of the house, as Dustin said.

Eddie rings the bell and knocks on the door until his knuckles hurt but none comes open.

“Harrington?” he calls, moving around the house to find an easy way to get in without breaking a window or picking a lock in the middle of the day. He tries every window until he sees that one window on the second floor is ajar. Cursing himself for his poor gymnastic skill, somehow he manages to climb toward the window and get inside, landing on the floor with a loud thump.

The room he is in is definitely Steve’s, even if the boy is nowhere to be seen and the bed is still perfectly made. Eddie moves around the other rooms but Steve is nowhere to be seen, so he gets to the living room to call Dustin to tell him that Steve is probably outside, having the time of his life, when he sees a figure wrapped in so many blankets that looks like a cocoon.

“Harrington?” he calls, and a pitiful voice answers him back.

Eddie runs down the stairs and gets closer to the boy “Hey, Harrington, are you ok?” he asks, but he can feel how hot Steve is even under all the blankets.

“Fuck. I think you got my virus.” Eddie curses, and Steve sneezes as a confirmation “Ok, don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you, ok big boy? Do you have some fever medicine somewhere?”

“Bathroom…” Steve murmurs in a small voice, and Eddie runs upstairs to the bathroom and comes back with a few medicines and a thermometer.

He takes Steve’s temperature, which is way too high, and tries to suggest calling a doctor, but Steve is adamant he doesn’t want to, so all that Eddie can do is help him sip some water and take a few pills.

When Steve falls asleep the older boy calls Dustin, informing him that Steve is sick but that he doesn’t have to worry because he will take care of him and he does, the metalhead helps him drink some hot tea, go to the bathroom and finally convince him to go to sleep in his bed and not on the couch.

“Can I call your parents?” Eddie asks, changing the wet towel on Steve’s forehead.

“They are in Paris. Or Rome. Don’t remember.”

“I can’t leave you alone like that.” 

“I’m fine.”

“No, you are not. Tell me who I can call to keep an eye on you or I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

Steve murmurs something that sounds like “Hopper” but Eddie knows that the chief died in the fire at the mall a few months before “I’m serious, Steve. You can’t be left alone like this.”

But the boy is already asleep, so he sighs and goes back to the living room to call Wayne.

“Hey, Wayne.”

“Kid? You ok?”

“Yeah. I’m at Harrington. I think he got my virus but much worse. Do you mind if I keep an eye on him? He is home alone.”

“Not at all, just pay attention.”

“I got sick before, I’m not going to get sick again.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about.” Wayne whispers and Eddie frowns, confused, but doesn’t comment.

When he gets in the kitchen to make himself a sandwich he sees Steve’s nonna recipe on the kitchen table and decides to try to make it.

Eddie has never cooked before in his life, but the instructions are pretty easy: he follows them step by step, and an hour later the same smell of warm soup fills the air. He takes a couple of bowls and gets back to Steve’s room.

“Steve? Wake up. Stevie, come on. You have to eat something.” He tells him while he gently shakes Steve to wake him.

“Mum?” the boy asks with feverish eyes.

“Just me, Eddie.”

“Oh. Eddie. Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about, you were probably dreaming, am I right?”

The younger boy nods, then looks at the bowl that the metal head is offering him “Is it…?”

“It is. Or at least I think it is. I followed the instructions step by step.” He replies, helping Steve sit up and giving him the spoon, but the boy is shaking so much that Eddie quickly resolves to spoon-feed him, slowly.

“So much for your strong immune system, uh?” the metalhead mocks him, cleaning Steve’s lips with a napkin.

“I’m sorry…”

“Stop saying you are sorry. You are sick and you need a little bit of help, it’s ok to need help sometimes, you know that, right?”

“Shouldn’t. I’m a Harrington.” He replies, covering his eyes with an arm.

“What the hell does that mean? Sorry to break it to you, but you are human, like everyone else.” Eddie tells him, tucking his blankets.

“It’s just a cold.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so, but even if it was you have the right to feel like shit and have someone take care of you.” Eddie insists, giving him some water and a couple of pills to lower his fever “And if by tomorrow you are not feeling any better I’m going to call a doctor, even if you don’t like it.”

“I had the soup. I’ll be alright.” Steve replies convinced, his eyes half closed, and Eddie lets him fall asleep, he is not sure Steve will feel better in the morning, but even if he doesn’t he is not going to let him be alone in that big house, he will probably call Dustin’s mum, or Wayne, or some other adult that really knows how to take care of a sick person, for the moment he sits on the floor of Steve’s bedroom, watching his chest rise and fall like and hawk.

***

Maybe it was the soup, as Steve insists, or maybe Steve’s fever just broke on his own with the help of a few pills, but the next day the rich boy looks way better than the night before.

“Told you. That soup is magic. Thank you for  cooking it for me.”

“I guessed your mum cooked it for you every time you got sick, uh?” Eddie asks, giving him the cup of tea he already prepared for him. No coffee or milk after you have been unwell, it’s a core part of Munson’s doctrine.

“Nah. Just my nonna. But she was Italian, so she wasn’t around often.” Steve replies, thanking him for the tea, and sipping it slowly.

“Well, my mum wasn’t around either, but Wayne did his best to make up for it.” Eddie replies, eating some eggs.

“He seems like a good man. We had a little chat when you were feeling under the weather.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t try to scare you away with his rifle.” Eddie snorts.

“He actually did. Or at least he threatened me that he would have taken the rifle if I didn’t leave, but after I clarified that I wasn’t a thief and that there was some soup for him he became really nice.” Steve sips some more tea and then he asks “How did you know I was feeling unwell?”

“Henderson. He can be really annoying, or persuasive, it depends, in any case he insisted that someone had to check on you. He actually asked me to break into your house! Luckily for me, there was a window ajar in your bedroom and I got in from there.”

Steve smiles “Yeah, Dustin can be annoying but I love him, and don’t laugh at me, I know he is just a kid, but he is like a little brother to me.”

“Yeah. I get it, I think I feel the same, even if I must confess that I was fucking jealous of Steve Harrington. You have no idea how many times he mentions you every day! Steve did that, Steve said this, Steve is going to drive me here and there… Every day he talks about you! You are his fucking hero!”

Steve scoffs, blushing so softly and Eddie can’t avoid wondering if he would blush so sweetly even under the sheets “Dustin and I have some history. I helped him with some… projects. That’s all. I’m not the super cool Dungeon Master that plays his stupid game.”

“Hey! That’s not a stupid game! It’s really hard to be a good DM!” Eddie complains, crunching another cookie and letting the crumbles fall everywhere.

Steve’s hands twitch, getting a towel to clean the table, but in the end, he desists and keeps drinking his tea.

“I don’t doubt it. Dustin tried to explain it to me but I’m too stupid to understand it.” Steve says, avoiding Eddie’s stare, but the metalhead reaches for his hand.

“Hey, you are not stupid. The game it’s complicated, but if you want I can teach you.”

Steve chuckles “Thanks but if I couldn’t understand it on a good day I doubt I’ll understand it today.”

“Still feeling shitty?”

“Not too bad but, yeah, I think I have been better.”

Eddie clicks his tongue “Do you think you’ll be alright if I get back to the trailer? I can be back in the evening but I don’t want Wayne to worry.”

“There is no need for you to come back tonight, I’m feeling so much better.”

“And renounce the opportunity to see cable television on such a huge screen?” Eddie smirks and Steve nods.

“Ok, you can hang out at my place for the holidays if that’s what you were thinking, but I’ll have to go back to work tomorrow or Keith will definitely fire me.”

Eddie agrees, but before leaving he reminds Steve that he is going to get back in the evening “Do you think you’ll feel good enough to have some pizza tonight? There is a new pizza place, Garreth says is sick but I have never been.”

Steve smiles and Eddie can’t help but smile back at him “Pizza sounds good, but no beer for me.”

“Got it!” Eddie replies, getting in the van and driving home.

***

In the evening Eddie goes back to Steve’s house with a couple of pizzas and a six-pack.

“Thank you Eddie but I told you that I wasn’t going to drink beer.”

“Oh, that’s for me.”

“All of them?”

“Yeah, are you judging me, Harrington?”

Steve shakes his head while they sit at the table.

“How was your day?” Eddie asks, taking a slice of pizza from the box with his hands and starting to eat it straight away.

“I dozed off on the couch and watched some old movies.” Steve replies, taking a plate to eat his pizza and Eddie feels immediately ashamed for his manners.

“Sorry…” he mumbles with his mouth still full but Steve just smiles.

“You are just like Dustin. I like that.”

“You like my lack of manners?” 

“I like your freedom.” He replies, cutting the pizza with fork and knife, before eating a little piece “My mum was really fond of etiquette, I learned what was the right fork for each food before I was tall enough to get to the table on my own. I would have loved to eat some pizza with my hands, getting my face dirty with tomato sauce or whatever.”

“Oh… we can fix that.” Eddie replies, taking another piece and offering it to Steve “Come on, take it. Take and eat it: with your hands, as a huge fuck you to your family. How does it sound?”

Steve stares at the piece of pizza for a long time and finally takes it from Eddie’s hand, giving a tentative bite, and immediately covering his mouth with the other hand “It tastes better if you don’t cover your mouth.” Eddie winks and Steve lowers his hand, showing a little smudge of tomato sauce on the side of his lips that Eddie cleans with his thumb, before licking it without even thinking about it.

It’s only when he feels Steve freeze that he realizes what he has done and whitens “Fuck. I’m sorry. Wayne used to do it with me and…”

“It’s… it’s ok.” Steve replies, blushing, then he changes the argument “The pizza it’s tastier like this.” He confirms and Eddie beams.

“Told you. That’s part of the sacred Munson’s doctrine.”

“Tell me more about this doctrine.” Steve asks, while he takes another piece of pizza with his hands and Eddie talks about everything: about the game he loves so much, about the Theatre Room where they play, about his opinion on jocks and laundry baskets players “Present company excluded, obviously.”

“Obviously.”

The more Eddie talks with Steve, the more he finds out that the other boy is not half bad. They spend the day chatting and when it’s time for Eddie to get back to the trailer Steve offers him one of the guest rooms “It’s not safe letting you drive after all the beers you drunk.”

“That’s nothing, weren’t you the Keg King?”

“Once, now I’m a big brother and I worry. It’s part of the job description.”

“I’m older than you.” Eddie points out but Steve shrugs and guides him toward the guest room.

“Choose whatever you want.”

Eddie nods and chooses the first room he sees, but when Steve comes into the room to give him towels and toiletries, Eddie grins “Hey, Steve?”

“Uh?”

“What do you think Dustin would say if we became friends?”

“He will be happy, I think?”

“Maybe at the beginning… but I’m sure you know a lot of embarrassing stories about him, and I know a few too, so… what do you say if we exchange intel and we gang upon him?”

Steve smirks “Are you suggesting we torture the little shrimp? Together?”

“He deserves it!”

“He definitely does. He keeps mocking me for my beauty routine.”

Eddie snorts “Do you have a beauty routine?”

“Fuck you, Munson. I don’t want to exchange anything with you.”

“Sorry. Sorry. My fault. I will not mock you, pinkie promise.”

They share a look and then they shake hands.

“Come, sit here. I have so many stories to tell you.” Eddie says, scooting over to make space for Steve on the bed and the chestnut boys lies with him, exchanging stories about how Dustin lost his cat and somehow convinced him to search for it in the woods, while Eddie recalls the first time he saw him in the cafeteria with his signature thinking cap.

“That boy is something, isn’t he?” Eddie asks, and when he doesn’t hear a reply he turns toward Steve, only to find him asleep and gently snoring. He brushes some hair away from his face, covers them both with the blanket and falls asleep in Steve’s comfy bed.

***

One week later none expect it when, on the first day of school after the holidays, Steve goes to pick up Robin and Dustin, and the the jock and the metalhead hug in the parking lot as if they were best friends who haven’t seen each other in years.

“What the hell is happening?” Dustin asks, darting his eyes between the two of them.

Eddie puts an arm around Steve’s shoulder with ease “You wanted us to get closer, didn’t you, Dustin?”

“Yeah but…”

“Well, we did.” Steve concludes “Now get in the car before Robin and I lose another job!”

They are halfway toward Dustin’s house when Steve asks “So: is it true that you farted during the last campaign and you tried to pretend it was the chair?”

Robin snorts and Dustin freezes “It was the chair! And how do you know… oh no… oh no!” Dustin exclaims, his eyes wide with terror “Please, tell me that’s not true! Why did you have to talk about me!”

“You are the only thing Eddie and I have in common, we bonded thanks to you. Aren’t you happy?” Steve winks and Dustin is still grumbling something when Steve leaves him at his house, before driving Robin toward Family Video.

“So. You and Munson, uh?” the girl asks in a cautious way.

“Yeah. It’s nice to have a friend my age, you know?”

She punches Steve’s shoulder “I’m your age, dingus!”

“But you are a girl! He is a boy! It’s different.”

Robin glowers at him “Steven Joseph Harrington, did you replace me with Eddie the Freak Munson?”

“Never! You are my best friend. Eddie is just… different. It’s easy to talk with him, you know? And he is very funny, he makes me laugh a lot and we have a great time together.”

“Talking, uh? And what about Heidi?”

“Oh, we were supposed to go out on a date but Eddie wanted to hang out and… what? Don’t look at me like that!” Steve complains, turning into the Family Video parking lot.

Robin sighs, gets their uniforms from the back and sighs“I’m glad you finally found a special friend.”

“Come on. I just made him my nonna’s soup when he was sick. It’s not like it means something.”

Robin takes her uniform, but before closing herself in the bathroom to change she turns to say to him “If you are going to be kissed by a boy before I get kissed by a girl I’m going to be super pissed!”

And Steve stares at the bathroom door, confused, that’s not what it is! It’s just a friendship! Right?

[ak47stylegirl]

I have officially fallen down the rabbit hole of minecraft Smps characters because I have now written fic 😅

I don’t know what this is, all I know is it’s some kind of domestic established relationship scarian au my brain cooked up while I was sick.

(enough of me rambling, hope you enjoy)

—

The morning sun shone through the window, drawing Scar from his slumber. Birds could be heard singing outside (plus mobs dying) as Scar blinked the sleep from his eyes.

Jellie was sitting on the windowsill, bathing in the morning sun. It was a beautiful sight to wake up to if you asked Scar.

There was one other though. Scar looked to his right and smiled softly.

Grain was curled up next to Scar, cheek swooshed up against his pillow. The sight was so addicting to Scar, the way the avian’s features were soft and carefree in sleep.

Although…

Scar frowned, noticing that wasn’t exactly the case today. Grian’s face was flushed, beads of sweat gathered around his temples.

With concern blossoming, Scar gently pressed his lips against Grian’s forehead, and immediately found a simmering fever.

Grian groaned, blinking groggily up at Scar.

“Well, hello there…” Scar smiled tenderly, brushing a strand of hair out of Grian’s face. “You’ve feeling alright there, love?”

Grian looked briefly like he wanted to shake his head and bury his face back into Scar’s bare chest, eyes filled with despair and anguish.

But this was Grian. Workaholic Grian.

Scar watched in dismay as Grian rolled over onto his back with a misery filled groan, “What time is it?” Grian asked, rubbing his face with his hands.

Scar sighed, sitting up properly to check the time; not surprised by the misdirection, this was Grian after all.

“It’s around six…and you didn’t answer my ques-”

Scar’s concern skyrocketed as he watched Grian struggle to sit up, immediately reaching out a hand to help. “Woah, I got you…”

Worry and dread was bubbling in Scar’s stomach.

“I’m fine…” Grian insisted as he stared down at his lap, breathing heavily like he had just ran a marathon. “I..I just had a bad night, that's all...”

Well that much was true, Scar could admit as he remembered Grian having a hard time getting to sleep last night.

Tossing and turning constantly. Unable to get comfortable. It was a whole ordeal.

But as Scar fully took in the state of his love, he could see how Grian was trembling ever so slightly, swaying where he sat and getting paler by the second.

This was definitely more than a bad night's sleep.

Scar shook his head, having had enough of his pesky bird’s stubbornness. “Grian…You’re running a fever.”

Grian’s eyebrows creased, starting to sway dangerously close to falling off the bed now. “Wha-”

“Okay no, come here…” Scar wrapped his arm around Grian’s waist with a sigh, pulling the sick avian towards him.

Grian yelped in surprise as he suddenly found himself leaning against lean muscle, cheek tucked against the nape of Scar's neck.

“Scar!” Grian whined, as some of his resolve to get up crumbled like wet cardboard in the rain. Oh void, he did feel appallingly horrible but-

“I have things I have to do!”

Scar ticked his tongue, not convinced in the slightest.

“And those things can wait…” Scar scolded lightly as he gently lowered himself and Grian down onto the bed.

“Right now, we’re going back to sleep for a couple more hours, then I’m going to make you something to eat and then you are going to rest…”

“But…but there’s so much to do...” Grian pouted, his resolve falling away from him every second he didn’t get up. (And the way Scar was rubbing the patch of skin in between his wings wasn’t helping!)

“I can’t…I can’t take a sick day..” Grian’s stomach was flipping and flopping all over the place. “I just can’t, there’s too much-“

“Gri, please…” Scar pressed his lips against Grian’s head in a tender kiss, his heart hurting for his love. “Let me take care of you…”

Grian squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of nausea overtook him. “Scar…”

“Please…” Scar was begging now, he really didn’t want to fight Grian on this but this was a battle he had to win. “For me..”

Grian was silent for a long tense second, before sighing.

“Okay, okay fine...” Grian whined, breaking out into feverish shivers. “but I got to call work first, and then I’ll probably have to find someone to replace me and, oh no-”

Scar frowned, watching as grian started to ramble with a slightly panicked tone.

“I was going to meet Mumbo for lunch!” Grian gasped, eyes widening with a feverish haze. “I’ll have to message him too and…and, oh Scar! it would really just be better if just go-”

“Woah! What did I just say…” Scar scolded lightly as he pulled their blanket up higher so it covered Grian’s shivering form better. “I will handle it, love…”

“You are not to worry about a thing…” Scar tucked a strand of Grian’s hair behind the avian’s ear. “I just want you to focus on getting better, okay?”

Grian whined, feeling too exhausted and nauseous to put up a fight. “Just don’t say anything stupid to my boss, I still have to work with those people…”

“Why, so little faith…” Scar mumbled as he reached over for his communicator, typing a quick message to Grian’s boss.

Goodtimeswithscar whispers to Grian’s boss: hi, Grian’s partner here. Grian’s sick so he’s not coming in today.

If anyone had a problem with Grian taking a sick day or if Scar had his way, multiple, (you don’t get over an illness in one day!) then they could take it up with him. (Scar)

“I’ll have you know that I have never said anything stupid in my life…” Scar whispered, pressing a kiss to Grian’s temple.

Grian huffed in disbelief, smiling ever so slightly as he watched Scar type out a message to Mumbo, his eyelids getting steadily heavier.

Goodtimeswithscar whispers to MumboJumbo: Our pesky Bird is sick, so he can’t make that lunch meet up thingy you two had planned.

Before Scar could put his communicator away, Mumbo replied to his message.

“Damn mumbo, did you even go to sleep last night??” Scar muttered under his breath as he read the message.

MumboJumbo whispers to Goodtimeswithscar: Damn, poor guy. Yeah, that’s fine, I totally get it. Tell Grian to rest and not to be a spoon for me, will you?

Goodtimeswithscar whispers to MumboJumbo: Will do.

“Mumbo says to rest and not be a spoon, whatever that means?” Scar told Grian as placed his communicator away.

Grian hummed, barely awake to fully comprehend what Scar was saying.

Scar smiled softly at the sight, glad his love was getting some sleep. Scar closed his eyes, content to just hold his bird close.

Fin.

[p0ssyart]

i have a headcanon that adam's body isn't used to hell's atmosphere, so sometime after being down there, he gets sick and doesn't wanna admit something that is painfully obvious

[sicktember]

It's that time again, friends! The mods have assembled a new list of fun prompts for the upcoming Sicktember season. As always, there will be 30 prompts and 5 Alternative Prompts.

We will use polls again this year to allow you some say in two of the prompts. The first one will be posted over the next few days The second will be posted mid-May.

The official September 2024 Prompt list will be posted on Saturday, June 15th and we can't wait to share it with you!

[somber-sapphic]

Hey! I was wondering if you would be down to do the sicktember (I already know my autocorrect is going to hate this 😂) but day 27 I think. The one with Marina x reader and Carina is sick. If not I totally understand

Taking Care of Her

〖Summary: Carina is sick and not doing a great job at being a patient.〗

〖Word Count: 1.1k〗

〖Pairing: Marina x Reader, Sick Carina〗

〖Notes: I absolutely can! Sorry it took me so long to respond to this one, I wanted to make sure I could have the req with the post. If anyone else has any sicktember prompts they want finished I'll link the post here and you can let me know :)) Apologies for the title, it's late and I cannot think of anything better.〗

☾Masterlists☽

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Carina, there’s no way you’re healthy enough to be here. Let me take you home, please.” You begged, hugging a clipboard to your chest as you watched your very sick girlfriend move about the on-call room. It was a slow day in the ER which left you time to chase her around instead of taking blood and treating patients. It also helped that April wanted Carina to go home as badly as you did. 

She had helped run clinic day with Maya and the rest of the crew of 19 a few days ago and had encountered the nasty flu that was going around. She’d actually been forced to deny one man a flu shot and sent him to the hospital to be evaluated by one of the ER docs. That night, she and Maya came home exhausted, making you regret not taking your day off to help them.

To make it up to them, you’d made them both a fancy bath with salts, candles, and scented candles. While they were relaxing in the bath you attempted to cook and when that failed you put in an order for the Italian place down the street. They had been incredibly thankful but Carina had practically fallen asleep in her plate of pasta, leading to an early night. 

The doctor had the next day off so you and Maya had gotten ready quietly around her and she was still asleep by the time the two of you got back that night. That was the first sign. 

There was evidence that she had gotten up, at least to eat lunch, but the fact that she would even consider sleeping the whole day worried you and your other girlfriend. The two of you let her sleep anyway, both of you hoping silently that she could fight off whatever was trying to take hold with a little extra rest. 

Of course, it didn’t. So here you were, trying to convince Carina that it was in her best interest to let you take her home instead of treating patients. There you were, blocking the exit to the on-call room prepared to shove Carina into a bed if that’s what it took. She had driven you there (a bad idea in hindsight) and you weren't sure how long it would take for Maya to get there to pick you up. 

“Y/n, I have mothers waiting for me preparing to push tiny humans out of their bodies. What they are preparing to go to is far worse than this little cold.” She insisted, bringing it back to the mothers yet again. Throughout the whole argument, she had stood firm that she needed to be fine because her patients were not. 

“Come on Car, you have to know that's a stupid point. What if you get them sick? What if you get the babies sick? Masks are great but they aren’t foolproof, what would happen then?” You challenged, raising an eyebrow at her. The woman’s face went a shade paler, something you didn't realize was possible, and she faltered slightly. 

“But, it's my job. Another doctor won't know them like I do, they won’t be able to…” She trailed off and raised a hand to her forehead, swaying suddenly. You rushed forward and wrapped an arm around her waist, quickly taking almost her complete weight as you sat her down on the bottom bunk of a bed. 

“Sweetheart, you’re sick. Let me take you home. Maya has the day off, we can watch movies and I’ll make you soup and we can get you feeling better. Please. You’re a biohazard.” You knew that last part would make her rethink her position which was exactly why you’d thrown it in. 

Carina dropped her head on your shoulder for a moment giving into the dizziness that you were sure she was feeling. 

“Please. Flu season has been bad, this will only get worse before it gets better.” As a nurse, you had been treating case after case of the flu several of them with severe enough symptoms that they needed to be admitted. You were used to rates going up during the winter but it was worse this year. 

The two of you sat in silence for a few more minutes, you rubbing Carina’s back as she carefully weighed her options. 

“Fine.” She finally said, lifting her head to look at you with glassy brown eyes. “I don't want to get the mothers sick.” You smiled, perfectly happy with that answer. You didn't care why she went home as long as she did. 

“Thank you.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You stepped through the door to your home and were immediately greeted by a very worried-looking EMT. 

“Hey baby, come here.” Maya breathed, reaching out her arms for the shivering brunette bundled up in yours. She broke away from you and drifted toward the firefighter, tears already beginning to form in her eyes. You sighed quietly and pinched the bridge of your nose, wishing that you knew of a way to keep her from crying. She always got weepy when she had a fever and you hated that there was so little that you could do to help. 

“I made a little blanket fort on the couch or we can go lay down in bed, what do you think?” The blonde offered, stepping immediately into the role of caretaker. She was so good at that, even you, a nurse, had trouble with it when it came to the people you loved. For some reason taking care of strangers always came easier. 

“Bed.”

It took the two of you ten minutes to get her settled, she had refused the first three sets of PJs that were offered and wouldn’t lay down until Maya did. Once the blonde was in bed it seemed to signal to Carina that she was allowed to rest and quickly cuddled up against the firefighter. 

You flipped on the TV and handed the remote to your healthy girlfriend so that you could change out of your scrubs and into sweatpants and an oversized band t-shirt. The shirt belonged to Maya, but the two of you frequently swapped clothes, so she didn’t mind. 

“Do you need anything Car? Some tea? A snack? Anything?” You offered, expecting the answer to be no. She shook her head, just as you thought she would, and reached over the EMT to grab the hem of your shirt. 

“Will you lay down with us? Just for a little while?” She croaked, sniffling softly. Her nose was running a little but she didn't seem to notice or care. You smiled and walked around to the other side of the bed so that she could be in the middle. 

Taking care of the doctor would never be an easy feat but you and Maya were more than willing to accept the challenge. Though you both were glad that she had such a strong immune system. That certainly helped. 

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[flamingoprincess25]

so I was being dumb, planning some TTTE sickfic ideas since we don't have that many TTTE sickfics.

And I was working on an AI roleplay where Donald gets strep and faints....

I FEEL SO THREATENED BY AI HOLY HELL 😭😭😭😭😭😭

@jammyjams1910 @just-a-douglas-simp-existing HELP ME LMAO

[esterigermaine]

Can you imagine how distressing it would be for Tav and companions if Astarion had a bit of bad blood/ended up sick BEFORE the vampire reveal?

He is trying to keep the vampire bit hush-hush meanwhile everyone is convinced things are far worse than they actually are because "Elves" don't usually vomit blood.

[fluffyblueblanket123]

Ok, picture this:

B comes home after a long day of work and finds A laying on the couch. Usually they’re doing something, like playing video games, cooking or doing chores or something. Them just laying on the couch doing nothing is odd.

B goes over to them.

B: Hey…you feeling ok?

A: I’m fine…just tired…

B frowns. While A being exhausted when they come home isn’t uncommon, they still do some sort of activity afterwards.

B makes the silent decision that they should check A’s temperature and leaves to find the thermometer.

What B doesn’t know is that A already knows that they’re sick and has checked their temperature recently. Not liking the results and not wanting to worry B, A hid the thermometer.

Soon, B comes back, looking a little frustrated.

B: Where’s the thermometer?

A: What?

B: Where. Is. The. Thermometer. I know you hid it.

A: I didn’t—

B: The Thermometer is always in the bathroom cabinet. And you hide it when you know your sick. So where is it, A?

A: (sighing) Under the mattress…

B: Thank you. When I come back, we’re going to have a discussion about not hiding the thermometer from me and not worrying me when you’re sick.

[esbee-daisy]

Second attempt at tumbling a sickfic prompt. Do we use that as a verb here? Anyway…

It’s the holidays! Let’s say Christmas or thanksgiving. Modern day. Big group of tight knit friends. But all going separate ways for the holidays.

A gets a text from C…turns out B hadnt been feeling well the last few days, and after C already left to go to their family’s holiday, found out B was uninvited from their own family’s holiday plans because they’re sick.

Everyone knows B is the caretaker of the group but is hopeless about taking care of themselves. A needs little persuasion from C to go over and check on B, especially since A is the only one still in town. Also doesn’t hurt that A has had a (unknowingly mutual) crush on B for years.

A goes over with meds and comfort food, all ready for a fun movie night with some extra forced pampering, but is not at all prepared for what they actually find

Maybe B comes to the door after an agonizingly long time, barely able to support their own weight against the doorframe, clearly feverish and dizzy from the short walk to open up. Bright red cheeks against a sickly white face. Glassy, unfocused eyes.

Or maybe B doesn’t come to the door at all, but luckily A knows where the hide-a-key is and let’s themselves in. Only to find B asleep, or are they unconscious? On the couch. Buried under blankets and looking absolutely pathetic and miserable and so small. Sweating and shivering profusely.

A gets to work straightaway trying to support B to their actual bed. It’s freezing in the foyer and B is already shaking relentlessly. If B is unconscious, maybe they come-to in A’s arms, but fever is so high they don’t recognize them right away and try to struggle out their grasp. Maybe A wasn’t expecting the sudden struggle and drops B who whacks their head and only ends up more petrified.

Or if B is awake initially, A pulls them up to get them into bed, only for B to crumple to the ground absolutely overcome with lightheadedness.

B can barely process that A is there since last they heard, everyone was out of town. They undersold how sick they were when they talked to C because they knew if they expressed how bad it really was, C would cancel their own plans and B would never want anyone to do that for them. Even though they would and have done it for all their friends in the past.

Maybe B starts crying hysterically when they realize A may be sacrificing their own holiday plans to care for them. Trying to push them away when really all they want is to be held and taken care of. Their own family doesn’t care enough about them to even have them in their home when ill…why would A want to be around them?

Maybe A is tracking B’s fever, which starts in the 103’s and gradually starts creeping up as the night goes on. There’s talk of bringing B to the hospital but as soon as that’s mentioned, it sends B into a delirious panic attack. Their body is already weak and ravaged by illness and really can’t handle the stress the panic is putting on their system. Their already pale face becomes positively ashen, their ragged breaths become whistling wheezes, and theyre trembling so hard A is afraid they’re going to crack a rib. Maybe the only way to get B to calm down is for A to promise not to bring them to the hospital. Maybe A remembers B has some trauma with doctors and feels awful for not recalling to begin with. So now A is faced with caring for B alone despite the fact that their already precarious health seems to be declining fast.

A promises to do everything they can to take care of B themself, but that means B has to stop fighting them at every turn

That means letting A feed them. It’s clear B hasn’t eaten properly in days and their weak body desperately needs the nourishment. But their hands are too weak to hold a spoon up to their mouth, even trying to push themselves up with their arms to sit results in the room spinning and B losing consciousness for a brief moment. A moment in which A is besides themselves with worry and trying to frantically rouse them while also being gentle as to not hurt or scare B

That means letting A give them a cold bath or shower to get the fever down when things keep getting worse. Maybe B tries to walk themselves only to collapse into a heap on the ground, trembling like a leaf from the exertion. A bridal carries B to the bathroom and is concerned by how little they seem to weigh. How uncoordinated and limp all their limbs are

That means letting A see them at their most vulnerable, rattled with nightmares and tears and delirious ramblings at night and allowing A to comfort them back into a restless sleep. With gentle touches, hair stroking, promises that they’re safe and not alone. That they won’t leave them no matter what. That they deserve to be taken care of.

I could go on and on but this is supposed to be a prompt I think so…I’ll stop here?