#theme: sickfic

[aftgficrec]

hi besties! can i be a bit weird and ask for sick fics here? old/new/favorites, any will do! just some big ol’ hurt/ comfort, especially if combined with some emotional hurt/comfort 🥰

There’s nothing weird about this at all!  Apart from the fics below, there’s also our sickfic tag as well as our hurt/comfort tag for more (see our tag page under the heading ‘themes - injuries/illnesses/conditions’). - S

Previous recs:

cool andreil sick fics here

sick fics here

foxes with headaches/sick fics here

10k+ sick fics here

Andreil in hospital here

Neil with major injury here

Neil gets injured (post canon) here

Neil & car accidents here

accident-prone Neil here

Andreil with amnesia here

medical Andreil/Aaron & Neil here

Neil getting roofied here

Also see… 

‘we're one (there's nothing to be done)’ here

‘Just like that day’ here

‘head case (what to do with you)’ here

‘Such Stuff as Dreams are Made’ here

‘Neil Josten Is a Lucky Man’ here

‘Broken’ here

‘If Only I Were Enough’ (completed) here

‘I'll Come Back To You’ here

‘glass in the trees (objects in the rearview)’ here

‘Running Ragged’ here

‘To Love and Be Loved’ here

‘all that looking down’ here

‘next best thing’, keep telling me that it gets better (does it ever?)’ and ‘no matter when and where, we’ll be alright’ here

‘Can Nobody Hear Me (I cannot breathe)’, ‘I remeber tears streaming down your face (for me to wipe them away)’, ‘you crawled inside my head’, ‘living leaves so many holes in us’, ‘Ciggarette Smoke Cure’, ‘Breathless’, ‘i've done my time’ and ‘cats and close calls’ here

‘The Highs and Lows of Pre-med Majors' here (Aaron)

‘Hold My Hand?’ here

‘Echo’ here 

I’m More Than This Body of Mine by yall_send_help [Rated M, 88811 words, incomplete, last updated Jan 2024]

The doctor took a pause, which Nathaniel was able to use to ask, “what about my leg?” The two pigs had the audacity to look surprised. The doctor looked over at them with a hint of confusion. “You didn’t tell him?” Towns shook his head as Browning said, “you told us not to.” Dr. Byrd nodded her head in approval and turned back to the bed. “Nathaniel…” she trailed off, reevaluating her words. “Would you mind if I sit?” and only after his own nod did she. “The damage done to your leg… it was unlike what most of the staff at this hospital had ever seen. The surgeons tried to save it, but…” She looked down at where his legs were and Nathaniel did too, only to feel himself pale at what he found. “The surgery took about three hours,” Dr. Byrd continued. “The only reason why it took so long was because the surgeons really did try to save your leg. They did. Amputations usually take only half that time. Eventually, Dr. McCoy called it. Because of the damage done to your leg, we couldn’t wake you up to ask. It had to go. I’m sorry.” or - the one where neil goes to baltimore and comes back missing a leg

tw: torture, tw: amputation, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks, tw: blood, tw: animal cruelty, tw: implied/referenced drug overdose

fireproof by mostly_maudlin [Rated T, 2097 words, complete, 2024]

Andrew gets his flu shot.

Things Always Gets Worse Before They Gets Better series by Renee_Walker_09 [Rated G, 40141 words, incomplete, 3 complete works, 2024]

Part 1: Beginnings & Endings (G, 1083 words)

It's 1:30 in the morning. The Foxes are celebrating their championship win against the Ravens the only way they know how to: booze, partying, and a little bit more booze. Nothing could possibly ruin this?

tw: car accident, tw: major character injury

Part 2: You Mean Everything To Me (G, 12767 words)

There are two crashed cars. There’s blood on the floor. Lights are flashing all around. Andrew is standing in the middle of the crash site with a blanket draped across his shoulders as he stares straight at Neil, lying on the floor.

tw: car accident, tw: major character injury, tw: (temporary) major character death, tw: suicide attempt, tw: drug overdose, tw: blood, tw: self harm

Part 3: Hours, Days, Weeks (G, 26299 words)

Andrew is lying in a coma following the accident. His condition is critical. And Neil and Aaron have to find a way to cope.  Neil and Aaron’s POVs of the crash and the past 6 weeks

tw: car accident, tw: blood, tw: major character injury, tw: (temporary) major character death, tw: self harm, tw: panic attacks, tw: seizures

NB: find art for the fics by the author here as well as embedded in the fics

Even goalkeepers can’t block sickness by BlowingYourMind [Rated G, 12768 words, complete, 2024]

“Rabbit,” Andrew peered up at him with half lidded eyes, “Yes or no?” “Yes ‘Drew,” Neil clasped his hands at Andrew’s elbows, “it’s always a yes, you know that.” “No ‘s not,” Andrew weakly argued as he took hold of Neil’s chest pad, using it to leverage himself upwards. It was awkward work of walking half-delirious Andrew back to the locker room, shielding him from the crowd while keeping him on his feet, but they managed. Or Andrew becomes very sick at an away game, and Neil and the foxes take care of him.

tw: vomit

the upswing by missgivings [Not Rated, 45569 words, incomplete, last updated Jan 2024]

The next universe over, life has gone a bit easier on Andrew. He’s gainfully employed as a nurse of all things, working beside his best friend Renee, and living in relative harmony with his brother, the recently graduated Dr. Aaron Minyard. Everything’s fine. It’s fine that he hasn’t spoken to Kevin in person for three years. It’s fine if Aaron’s leaving him to marry his stupid doctor girlfriend. It’s fine until the boy with the box-dyed hair stumbles into the ER and passes out at his feet, bringing a world of secrets and trouble with him. And Neil? Neil’s looking for any port in a storm.

tw: major character injury, tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced self harm

please (don't bite) by Major_816 [Rated M, 5478 words, complete, 2024]

Genioglossus. It’s a fan-shaped muscle and forms the bulk of the inferior part of the tongue. It stretches to the hyoid bone too. ~ Neil wakes up to a bad day and it just gets worse.

tw: blood, tw: self harm, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: nightmares, tw: flashbacks, tw: vomit

Will you love me for who I am, not for who I was? by something_boring [Rated T, 1580 words, complete, 2024]

Neil is sick on New Year's eve, wakes up to the fireworks, and continues to have a panic attack about his time on the run.

tw: nightmares, tw: panic attacks, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Your Needs, My Needs by TogeMythia [Rated T, 1073 words, complete, 2023]

‘Neil.’ He whined, his face still buried under the blankets. ‘Hrmph?’ Neil responded with a confused noise from somewhere across the bed. ‘Do you feel as shit as you sound?’ - Or Neil and Andrew wake up sick on Christmas day.

tw: vomit

To be safe by HushedStars [Rated G, 2116 words, complete, 2023]

Neil is feeling unwell. He seeks comfort from Matt. It was late at night. Neil stood in the kitchen, deep in thought but still with one ear alert for any movement of his roommates. He shifted from foot to foot, hands digging into his sore neck

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks

Safe with him by 1mNot4Hum4n [Not Rated, 2434 words, complete, 2023]

Neil is sick but doesn't want to admit it. He can't be sick. He can't be weak. Luckily Andrew is there to make sure his junkie is okay, and remind him that he has people around him who are willing to do anything to protect him.

'tis the season by moonix [Rated T, 5579 words, complete, 2023]

Five holidays Andrew had to let Kevin take care of him and one time he got to return the favour.

i called your name ‘til the fever broke by cyanica [Rated T, 5632 words, incomplete, last updated Nov 2023]

Neil’s breath is hot and awful against Andrew’s thigh. “I can’t be sick on your birthday,” he says, like it’s that simple. “I can’t be sick on you on your birthday.” “How considerate,” Andrew’s voice is a bland murmur, and he is left watching Neil’s bloodless, wet lips, as he curls into Andrew’s lap. Neil gently pulls away after a moment, leaning back into Andrew’s hand on his neck. “Is me being sick still making you anxious?” he asks. Fever-stricken with dizzied-eyes and delirious thoughts, he knows Andrew without more than a moment beside him, a look into his eyes that makes Andrew feel undone, found. Or Neil is sick and Andrew isn’t coping well.

tw: vomit, tw: panic attacks, tw: dissociation, tw: anxiety

You Know I'm Good On My Own by sambutwithbooks [Rated G, 4568 words, complete, Aftg Then And Now 2023]

Andrew breaks his arm two games into the season and it feels a little bit like Neil’s world snaps with it. (A snapshot of Neil and Andrew between Andrew coming home from the hospital and going back home to Palmetto State.)

tw: major character injury

that's my line by sillyunicorn6154 [Rated G, 1291 words, complete, 2023]

Andrew is definitely not sick. But he is a little stubborn.

You're not fine, but you will be by karmenvi [Not Rated, 616 words, complete, 2023]

Neil is sick, so Andrew takes care of him. So it was supposed to be a sickfic, but it turned into 'Andrew stares at Neil and thinks his boyfriend is the prettiest boy in the world.' Anyway, enjoy some fluff.

I'll be okay if he's here by obsessivereader156 [Not Rated, 1673 words, complete, 2023]

“Thank you, Drew,” Neil says for the twentieth time, feeling so lucky to have someone take care of him. “Say it again and I will kill you.” “You’re just so nice to me,” Neil says a bit deliriously, “I’ve never had someone take care of me when I’m sick.”

If it means losing you, then no by LostMess_24 [Rated T, 6712 words, complete, 2023]

There was something against his hand, a pressure he knew too well, a hand that fit so perfectly against his, making Andrew’s presence known, making Neil’s entire body relax, slowing his breathing a bit. But before Neil could see the man at his side, it hit him. He was starting to feel it, all around him. Those white walls, the mattress he was in, the soft yet old sheets, the pressure on his arm. And finally, unmistakably, the regular and aggressive beeps, signs of a life that was his own. He was in a hospital bed. There’s an accident. Those idiots would do anything and everything to protect each other.

tw: major character injury, tw: car accidents

cause and effect by mistyrie [Rated M, 13107 words, complete, 2023]

"Andrew realized what he was seeing but he couldn’t comprehend it. He didn’t know how to help. There was no enemy to deal with – there was just Neil seizing on the floor and Andrew didn’t know what to do." Neil starts having seizures and Andrew tries to help.

tw: seizures (epilepsy)

how the foxes act when they're sick by @detectivebambam [tumblr, 2024]

headcanons on the foxes and illness

headcanons on Neil getting sick by @24-0z [tumblr, 2022]

Neil doesn't get sick very often, so when he finally catches the bug that had been going around campus, he's suddenly 8 years old again, sweating and trembling with fever

SICK!Neil for my soul. by @satan-in-a-v-neck [tumblr, 2021]

Neil is acting strange. Ask every fox and they'll tell you that for the past three days Neil Josten wasn't acting very Neil Josteny.

tw: vomit

illness/injuries as background event:

The Songs Around Us by doodlingstuff [Rated M, 80075 words, complete, 2022]

The mission was simple: Nathaniel would join Astral Foxes as Neil Josten and make them part of Moriyama Music. In reality, Neil became real, found a home, and fell in love despite his lies. When the Moriyamas send the Butcher to remind Neil of his mission and Andrew's life ends on the line, Neil will have to find a way to escape his fate and bring Andrew back. As he gets closer to losing the man he loves the most, Neil will realize that sometimes, music is the only answer, and others, truth is the only weapon he can use. Another Band!AU. This time extra angsty.

tw: torture, tw: car accident, tw: major character injury, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks, tw: violence

NB: find art for this fic by @doodlingstuff here

[hmshermitcraft]

New players getting sick isn’t all that uncommon. It’s pretty much bound to happen after all.

So when Joel and Skizz inevitably get sick, they’ll have the entire server to watch over them. (Even if Etho and Impulse are a bit jealous.)

It's a passing of the baton, they guess. They're finally on the server at the consequence of being on the server. They don't have it as bad as some have in the past - being in the life series gave them some exposure. But it's still a miserable time, especially so early on.

The biggest challenge is making sure they rest instead of building, and Etho and Impulse are glad they're not tackling that on their own!

[whump-tr0pes]

Aqua Sancta

Lux in Tenebris masterlist here

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 of a (no longer little) arc of Dee having a fever

This comes about a month or so into the First Recovery arc.

Author’s note #1: Thank you so much to the kind reader who left a wonderful comment on this fic on AO3 and singlehandedly resurrected this arc after almost two years. People don’t realize how some kind words can inspire someone to write again even when the Juice(TM) isn’t flowing like it used to.

Author’s note #2: This chapter is heavily inspired by a piece written in response to this prompt. I was so sad to discover that the blog has since been deleted, taking with it one of the whump pieces that absolutely got me my start.

Content warning: sickfic, fever, delirium, demon whumpee, past torture, nonsexual nudity, misunderstanding whump, language whump, past religious abuse, religious themes, past burns, ‘it’ as a pronoun, past drowning, manhandling, begging for death

~

The demon was screaming. Ilya had never heard such a sound in their life. It was as if an animal was being torn apart, horrible broken wails piercing their skull and making their skin crawl. They forced themself not to slap their hands over their ears, forced themself instead to hold their hands out to the demon that was crouched against the bathroom door.

It – he – was naked, bathed in sickly sweat, his eyes wild and fixed on the bathtub filled with water. Gooseflesh rippled over his body as he huddled and twisted away from Ilya. His fangs were descended and bared, but he cowered away, fingernails scrabbling at the door. Dara stood at Ilya’s shoulder. She drew in a deep breath, let it out. The smell of ozone momentarily washed away the smell of sweat and fear in the bathroom.

“Dee, please,” Ilya breathed. “We aren’t going to hurt you. You just… you just need a bath, Dee. You’re sick. We just need to bring your fever down.”

Fevered eyes locked on Ilya’s.

“Non intellego,” Dee sobbed, voice strained and broken. “Non intellego, obsecro ignosce me, obsecro, numquam ego facito iterum, obsecro dice m-mihi quid feci iniuriam, numquam ego facito iterum—”

Ilya glanced at Dara. “What—”

“It’s begging again,” Dara said through her teeth.

Ilya took a hesitant step forward. “Dee, no—”

They were cut off by a heart-rending shriek. “NON. Non facio… Si vis recitare verba tui ordinis, ero… Est…? Pater noster, qui es in cœlis—”

“We don’t need you to recite the goddamn Pater Noster, demon,” Dara said through her teeth. “Is that what they…? Jesus Christ…”

“Wh-what?” Ilya breathed.

“—sanctificetur nomen tuum: Adveniat regnum tuum—”

“Stop,” Dara ordered. The demon’s recitation ceased, but it continued to whimper and sob with every shuddering exhale.

“What is it?” Ilya said, glancing between Dee and Dara. “What is that?”

“It’s the Lord’s Prayer,” Dara said darkly. “It’s part of the catechism. Normal shit for us, but… if demons are around when that stuff is said, it hurts them. And if he was forced to… recite it… Jesus fuck, is there nothing these motherfuckers didn’t do to him…”

“Obsecro,” Dee sobbed. “Miserere, angelus virtute, faciam quod vis, sed obsecro, ni aqua sancta, faciam QUID…”

“Shush,” Dara snapped. She rubbed her temple. “It’s probably almost as painful for him to recite the catechism as it was to be burned by the holy water.”

“Oh, no,” Ilya whispered. They pressed their hands to their mouth. “Dee…”

The demon looked at them blankly, eyes wild, chest heaving. “Obsecro,” he rasped. “Obsecro, virtute.”

Ilya took a shaking breath. “So what do we…?”

“I think we just… do it,” Dara said. Her jaw worked. “It’s not going to understand until it’s actually in the water. Not in its current state of mind.”

“H-his,” Ilya breathed, trembling. They blinked tears away and swallowed hard. “H-he said that they… m-made him drink it, too.”

Dara could have been made of stone beside him – a statue on one side of the room, a snarling creature on the other. An eternity seemed to pass before she shook herself and muttered, “I’m going to slaughter those motherfuckers someday.”

Ilya spared a glance at her. “But—”

“Let’s just handle this right now,” she said with a bite to her voice. “Let’s just… get them… him… feeling better. We need to get this fever down. It might be why he’s acting like this in the first place.” She adjusted her soft leather gloves. Ilya nodded took a step towards the demon.

His slitted pupils blew wide. He snarled and snapped at them.

Ilya gasped and fell a step back. Even though there was still a full step between them, there had been power in the bite.

“D-Dee,” Ilya breathed.

Dara huffed out a breath. “That’s enough,” she grumbled. She strode forward and seized the demon with her gloved hands.

The demon let out a scream that lanced Ilya down to their soul. They could do nothing but watch as Dara took Dee’s wrists in one hand and wrapped her other arm around his chest, holding him tightly against her so that he could not turn his head far enough to bite her. He twisted and writhed in her grip.

“NON,” he shrieked. “NON, OBSECRO!” He snapped uselessly at the air and kicked out at nothing.

“Dee, it’s… it’s okay,” Ilya said weakly, reaching out a hand to comfort him.

“No,” Dara snapped. “He’ll bite.” Ilya drew their hand back. Dara effortlessly carried Dee, screaming and writhing, to the bath.

“OBSECRO, OBSECRO, NECA ME, EGO MORTI DE MANIBUS LIBENTER, OBSECRO VIRTUTE, OBSECRO.” Ilya’s head was throbbing with Dee’s screams. Dara lowered Dee over the bath. He drew his legs up to his chest, suddenly trying to cling to her. He sobbed his heart out and tried to bury his face against her shoulder. She held him out away from her, avoiding his teeth.

“Dammit,” she breathed.

“Just do it,” Ilya said flatly. Their chest ached, but they forced themself to look at Dee. For a brief moment, he locked eyes with them over Dara’s shoulder.

“Ilya,” he croaked. “Help me.”

Ilya bit their lip and looked away. Dara held the demon out away from her and quickly lowered him into the lukewarm bath.

The demon convulsed with a scream when he hit the water. Bathwater spilled over the side and onto the tiles. Dara kept a firm grip on his wrists and on the back of his neck as he scrambled to escape the bath.

Ilya rushed forward and fell to their knees beside the tub, no longer caring about the risk of Dee’s fangs. Dee’s hands were balled into terrified fists in Dara’s grip, but Ilya covered his hands with their own.

“Dee,” they said urgently. “Dee, look at me. Feel the water. Is it burning you?”

Dee whimpered and found Ilya’s eyes, confused and frightened out of his mind. He shivered under Dara’s hands and froze. Ilya could tell that her grip on the back of his neck would leave bruises.

“Careful, Ilya,” Dara said through her teeth.

“I am being careful,” they said back, quelling their anxiety, the anger that flared when they saw how tightly Dara was still holding Dee even though he was no longer fighting her. They reached out a shaking hand and stroked it through Dee’s hair. It was soaked with sweat and splashed bathwater. “Dee,” they murmured. “It’s okay. We would never, never hurt you.”

Dee’s throat worked. He blinked, his chest still heaving. Slowly, slowly, he pushed his head against Ilya’s hand. The same rumbling sound Ilya had heard before filled the small room.

Dara blew out a breath. Dee turned away from it and blinked as if she had breathed cigarette smoke in his face in the close quarters. As slowly as Dee had moved towards Ilya, Dara released his wrists and neck. There were bruises where her fingers had been. Ilya swallowed hard and tried not to look.

All at once, Dee slumped against the side of the bath. Dara’s hand shot and seized his hair as if she was about to restrain him again. Ilya shot her a glare, and she returned the look. Ilya quailed and shifted their eyes away. Dara released Dee’s hair and stood.

“I’m staying in here,” she said firmly. “In case he… gets frightened again.”

“That’s fair,” Ilya said. They gave her a grudging nod. “I get it.”

“Eva is changing the sheets right now,” Dara said. “And after we get him back in bed, we can feed him. I think that will help a bit.”

“Yeah,” Ilya said distractedly as they drew their fingers through Dee’s tangled and sweaty hair.

“Ilya,” Dara said, and Ilya looked back up at her. Her brow was furrowed. “It… it is dangerous. You know that.”

“He,” Ilya said as they set their jaw. They looked back down at Dee. He was shivering violently, but he seemed so exhausted that he could barely hold onto the side of the tub.

“He,” Dara corrected. “Sorry. Old habits. But my point still stands.”

Ilya nodded. “I know,” they whispered, and the admission burned their tongue like guilt. “But he’s dangerous because he’s scared. And I…” Finally, they raised their gaze to Dara again. “If I can, if it’s… possible, for him, I want to show him he’s safe. And that he doesn’t have to be scared anymore.”

The demon under Ilya’s hands moaned softly and heaved a wracking cough.

  Translation of the Latin lines here:

“I don’t understand,” Dee sobbed, voice strained and broken. “I don’t understand, please forgive me, please, I will never do it again, please tell m-me what I did wrong, I will never do it again—”

…

They were cut off by a heart-rending shriek. “NO. I don’t… If you want me to recite the words of your order, I will… Is that…? Our Father, who art in Heaven—”

…

“—hallowed by Thy Name: Thy Kingdom come—”

…

“Please,” Dee sobbed. “Have mercy, virtue, I’ll do whatever you want, but please, not the holy water, I’ll do ANYTHING…”

…

The demon looked at them blankly, eyes wild, chest heaving. “Please,” he rasped. “Please, virtue.”

…

“NO,” he shrieked. “NO, PLEASE!” He snapped uselessly at the air and kicked out at nothing.

…

“PLEASE, PLEASE, KILL ME, I’LL DIE AT YOUR HAND GLADLY, PLEASE VIRTUE, PLEASE.” Ilya’s head was throbbing with Dee’s screams. Dara lowered Dee over the bath. He drew his legs up to his chest, suddenly trying to cling to her. He sobbed his heart out and tried to bury his face against her shoulder. She held him out away from her, avoiding his teeth.

Continued here

@womping-grounds, @free-2bmee, @quirkykayleetam, @walkingchemicalfire, @inpainandsuffering, @redwingedwhump, @burtlederp, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @whatwhumpcomments, @whumpywhumper, @stxck-fxck,  @whumps-the-word, @justwhumpitwhumpitgood,  @inky-whump,  @orchidscript, @inkyinsanity, @this-mightaswell-happen, @newandfiguringitout, @whumpkitty, @pebbledriscoll, @im-just-here-for-the-whump, @endless-whump, @grizzlie70, @oops-its-whump, @kixngiggles, @1phoenixfeather, @butwhatifyouwrite, @carnagecardinal, @laves-here, @mylifeisonthebookshelf, @wolfeyedwitch, @batfacedliar, @also-finder-of-rings, @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @extrabitterbrain

[whumpberry-cookie]

list that gotta do with a theme park?… -🎤🎩 Dapper Mic Anon

Ooh, you mean prompts for public whump in theme park with whumper? Or more like feeling sick/uncomfortable/anxious in theme park?

I will just write separate prompts for both! And I'll make separate content warnings for both of them.

Theme park whump/sickfic

---------------------------

Whump:

(Cw: whumpee triggered, fake friends, fake tools of torture, dislocated bones, affectionate whumper)

Whumpee gets manipulated by the fake friends to enter the haunted house but Whumpee doesn't know the theme before they enter. And then they see lots of blood, tools of torture and people (actors) hanging in the chains. Caretaker finds the "friends" outside, laughing. (C:) "Where did Whumpee go?". Caretaker realises and without a single thought knocks the leader of the " friends" off his feet with a strong blow to the jaw (dislocated!). Caretaker runs around, searching for whumpee and finally finds them sitting outside on the bench with an actor who led them outside, and now comforting them.

Affectionate Whumper takes their prideful Whumpee to the theme park and forces them to behave. Whumpee hates every moment of Whumper trying to satisfy their coinscience by buying Whumpee nice food and toys, and hugging them, laughing. And Whumpee feels so humiliated and so helpless, but at the same time they can't help but laugh from the adrenaline of the roller coaster rides. And enjoy the sweet food. Whumpee's happy. And angry. And conflicted.

------------------------

Sickfic:

(Cw: trouble with breathing, feeling nuseous, waste fluids)

Sickie loses their breath sometimes. So after some extreme rollercoaster they keep going breathless and faint several times this day, even during the meals/calm walks in the park. Caretaker decides to stay with Whumpee while the other friends are going for the rollercoasters. Whumpee takes their medicine and falls asleep on Caretaker's arm. (W:) "I'm sorry... I ruined this day for you..." (C:) "Hmm? Oh, no, actually...," whispers, "...i'm deadly scared of these rides. One more ride and I'd barf. So you gave me a good excuse"

The water rides are fun, but then Sickie goes out all wet and without the clothes to change. And they just recovered from the big cold. So Caretaker takes them to the bathroom. Sickie just waits in the stall in Caretaker's coat and Caretaker helps them dry their shirt under the blowdryer.

Sickie feels nuseous after some bigger rollercoaster ride and a full meal. But Caretaker's always prepared. So they walk to a cafe, Caretaker asks for a hot water and dissolves the medicine for it, that tastes and smells sweet and neutral.

(W:) "...oh dear. I want to get down. I want to get down" (C:) "I thought you didn't fear the hights?" (W:) "Well I DO NOW APPARENTLY!" they scream as the roller coaster cars go up and up preparing for the biggest fall. Caretaker just gives quick instructions (C:) "Brace your knees and hands agains the car. Hold your breath just before the fall. Close your eyes if you need to. Remember, it's less than 30 seconds"

-------------------------

[weirdstrangeandawful]

Whumpee who, for all intents and purposes, is of the same cultural background as Caretaker despite not looking it. Only, one time Whumpee gets sick and nothing seems to make them feel better. Caretaker knows this will be a long road to physical recovery but they'll be damned if there's nothing they can do to help them feel better, so they do what anyone would do: they ransack Whumpee's cupboards looking for comfort food.

And there, crumpled at the back of a well-used cupboard, crinkled from years of use and love, Caretaker finds a recipe. They don't recognise the word at the top of the page and there are ingredients they have to look up and play find and seek for in the cupboards (or, god forbid, the grocery store), but they persevere.

When they finally hand Whumpee what even Caretaker would admit looks like the perfect comfort food/drink [or it could look terrible by all accounts -- your choice], they can't help help but think they saw just a slight smile tug on Whumpee's fever-chapped lips and an albeit-muted twinkle return to their shark-like delirious eyes.

And so Caretaker pads softly down to the kitchen and quietly snaps a photo of the recipe.

Inspired by @allthewhumpygoodness' amazing fever posts <3

Casai recipe under the cut for good measure

[ur-typical-nerd]

Bedside Manner

The fact that this was posted on Snakeeyes Day 5-Caretaking is ✨just a coin-cidence✨

“Dii-ice! Where on Earth are you; your boss is dying!”

King Dice sighed in frustration for what felt like the fifth time since he’d arrived in the Underworld; he was tempted to try and make a run for the exit. Forcing a neutral expression on his face, he wove his way through the imps working around him, occasionally returning the odd wave, until he found himself outside of his boss’ bedroom. He creaked open the door and peered inside to scope out the situation.

Inside the room, laying on a massive burgundy bed, the Devil was buried under a pile of blankets as Henchman dabbed his forehead with a cool cloth. The purple imp still wore the same worried expression King Dice had seen when he’d first arrived in the Underworld.

King Dice had come down to absolute chaos as Devil attempted to boss everyone around between coughing and sneezing fits. He had been thoroughly in denial about falling ill (“I’m the Devil, Dice; I would never come down with a mere mortal sickness,” he’d said, before proceeding to double over and vomit) before finally collapsing and admitting defeat, allowing Henchman to drag him to his bedroom. 

Dice was beginning to wish his boss had stayed in denial; it was slightly more tolerable than the way he was acting at the moment.

“Ugh, there you are! Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you?!” the Devil snapped, suddenly siting up and nearly sending Henchman flying. Dice leaned on the doorway and tried not to roll his eyes.

“Boss, it’s only been five minutes,” he deadpanned. The Devil growled and narrowed his eyes in irritation as King Dice walked into the room.

“Don’t get smart with me, Dice; I’m not in the mo-“ he shot back before scrunching up his face while his breath hitched. Henchman’s eyes widened in panic, and he scrambled under the bed. Briefly freezing in panic, Dice let out a squeak of fear and dove behind the foot of the bed-

-just in time for the Devil to finally sneeze and shoot out a jet of fire. Demonic illness was definitely a sight to behold.

Heart still pounding against his ribcage, King Dice peered over the edge of the bed, fully prepared to duck back down again in case it turned out to be a sneezing fit. Luckily, that seemed to be it for now; the Devil was currently sniffling and rubbing his nose. King Dice sighed in relief and stood up, Henchman crawling out from under the bed soon after. The Devil didn’t seem to notice the panic he’d just caused, casually pulling out a tissue and blowing his nose, burning up the tissue in the process.

“Ugh, I swear this illness is what kills me,” he groaned, dramatically flopping back down onto the pillows and covering his eyes with his arm. Henchman resumed wiping his boss’s forehead with the cool cloth while Dice crossed his arms.

“We’ve been over this, Boss: it’s just the flu, you’ll be fine. You probably caught it from those cup brothers you’ve been gunning after; kids like them are basically germ factories,” Dice explained as patiently as he could manage at the moment. All he got in response was another dramatic moan. “Anyway, what did you need in the first place?”

“It’s too cold in here; I need more blankets,” Devil responded, burrowing deeper into the pile of blankets on his bed. King Dice couldn’t quite hide his disbelief at this request.

“Boss, you’re currently buried in blankets; don’t you think you’re overdoing it just a bit?” he asked. Devil merely gave a couple of pathetic-sounding coughs into his fist as a reply, peeking out of the corner of his eye as he did. Realizing he wasn’t gonna win this one, Dice sighed in defeat. “Fine, I’ll get you more blankets.”

“And grab another box of tissues while you’re out!” the Devil added as Dice turned his back. Giving a thumbs-up over his shoulder, Dice closed the door behind him, sighed out of pure frustration, pulling his hands down his face as he did, and walked out to get what he’d needed.

It was just for a few days. His boss would be better in a few days. 

———————————————

Returning with the tissues and blankets (along with a few other necessities), Dice shifted the supplies into his left arm and opened the door to the Devil’s room. The demon in question was currently sleeping, chest rising and falling with each breath. Henchman was still fluttering in the air, worry obvious in his face. King Dice placed the tissues and blankets on the side of the bed and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, why don’t you go make sure everything isn’t falling apart without the big guy? I can handle him for now,” he offered. Henchman smiled with relief.

“Uh, no problem Mr. King Dice!” he replied, saluting as he darted out the door. Dice closed the door behind the little imp and turned back towards his sleeping boss. Sitting on the other side of the bed, he shook the Devil’s shoulder.

“Boss, wake up,” Dice said sternly. The Devil let out a mrmph and pulled the blanket over his head. “Boss, come on. You need to wake up for a bit; you can go right back to sleep afterwards.” A small groan. “Boss.” A rather loud whine. “Boss!”

“Ugh, what?” the Devil yelled hoarsely, angrily yanking the blankets off of his head. Dice cringed internally upon seeing his boss; he looked even more tired than before he took his nap, if that was even possible. His nose was a darker shade of red than usual, and his fur was sweat-soaked and messy.

“I got what you needed,” Dice told him, setting the blankets on the bed and the tissue box on the bedside table. The Devil perked up almost immediately and grabbed the blankets, leaning across Dice’s lap in order to do so, before wrapping himself in one of the scarlet ones.

“Ugh, it’s about time! I’ve been freezing my horns off-,” he started before his breath began to hitch once more. Thinking fast, King Dice quickly pulled a clump of tissues out of the box and shoved them into his boss’s hands. The Devil barely had time to acknowledge the gesture before sneezing into them, burning the one on the top.

“Gesundheit,” King Dice said casually. The Devil sneezed again, burning more or the tissues in the process, and briefly came up for a gasp of air before sneezing once more. He was about to say something to Dice before sneezing one final time, finishing the whole affair with a hacking cough. The Devil stared at the pile of ash in his hands before smearing it on his nightstand and flopping down once more. Cringing at this, Dice leaned over his boss’s body and placed the tissue box over the ash stain. He then gently placed the back of his hand on the Devil’s forehead before immediately yanking his hand back once he felt the intense, burning heat radiating off the demon’s form.

(This was why he never brought a thermometer with him when the Devil was sick: as a demon with some degree of control over fire, he managed to run some scarily high fevers. The first time he’d come to take care of a sick Devil, he’d nearly had a heart attack over the 500 degree fever he was running before being informed that no, that was a quote-unquote “normal” fever for him.)

“Ugh, how do you mortals do this?” the demon asked. Dice rolled his eyes and began searching his pockets for something.

“Well, there is something that’ll make you feel better…” he murmured, hand clasping around what he was looking for. The Devil seemed to realize his intentions and gasped.

“Dice, you wouldn’t!”

“Boss, come on-“

“As your boss, I command you to-“

“As your partner, I’m telling you that this’ll help you feel better,” Dice interrupted sternly, pulling out a small glass vial of reddish-brown liquid. The Devil’s eyes followed his number one’s hands as he poured out a spoonful of medicine. Turning to his boss, King Dice moved the spoon towards the demon’s mouth-

-only for him to move his head to the right like a stubborn child.

Raising an eyebrow, Dice moved the spoon to the right; in response, the Devil moved his head to the left. Dice gave an annoyed grunt before attempting to shove the spoon into his boss’s mouth once more, causing the Devil to dodge it once more. This went on for a few minutes before the Devil covered his mouth with his blanket.

“Boss, come on!” Dice growled in frustration. He began to climb over his boss, still holding the spoon. The Devil, realizing Dice’s new strategy, quickly vanished under the covers. Lifting them up revealed only darkness, confusing Dice before he saw a long, slender lump slither past him. “Oh no you don’t!”

King Dice reached under the blankets and managed to grab something scaly and smooth. He yanked the Devil, now in the form of a snake, out from under the blankets before pinning him down with one hand. The Devil shapeshifted back to his normal form and hissed in protest, and Dice took the opportunity to shove the spoon into his mouth and make him swallow the medicine.

There was no way in here he was going through that again.

The Devil sputtered and gagged, briefly making Dice worry he was going to throw up again, before swallowing and turning to glare at Dice. He roared briefly, managing to produce a few sparks, before going into a hoarse, wet-sounding coughing fit. Dice rolled his eyes before rubbing the Devil’s back as he coughed. Once he was done, the demon groaned and flopped onto his back.

“I cannot believe you would do that to me!”

“You’ll thank me when you feel better later.”

“I will being doing no such thing! That medicine tasted absolutely horrible!”

“Look, I don’t control how it tastes-“

“Uh, excuse me?”

“What?!” the two shouted in unison, turning towards the doorway. Henchman had poked his head through the door while the two were bickering. The smaller demon glanced between the two before his eyes landed on Dice.

“Mr. King Dice, can I talk to you outside?” he asked. Raising an eyebrow, Dice nodded and stood up from the bed, ignoring the Devil’s curious stare. He closed the door behind him, making sure to leave it open a crack in case the sick demon inside needed him.

“What’s with the secrecy, Henchman?” he inquired, following the little demon as he fluttered away from the Devil’s bedroom. Henchman glanced around before turning back to Dice.

“You know how Stickler’s been redoing the soul count since the boss burnt the book?” he asked, glancing around nervously. Dice sighed tiredly; he was very aware of the Devil’s lie about taking Cuphead’s soul and the measures he’d taken to hide that lie.

“Yes, I’m aware,” he deadpanned. Henchman hissed through his teeth nervously.

“Well, uh, he’s…almost finished with it.”

“WHAT?!” 

Dice let out a yelp of surprise and whipped around. The Devil was currently standing behind the two, pitchfork in hand, looking absolutely furious. A few of the imps walking by looked over briefly out of curiosity before quickly looking away.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier?!” the Devil yelled angrily at Henchman. The demon in question shrunk back and began playing with his hands.

“I-I-I was going to tell you, boss! But then you woke up sick, and-and I didn’t want you to make yourself worse!” he managed to stammer out, refusing to look his boss in the eye. The Devil pulled his hands down his face out of frustration and glared at Henchman.

“Ugh, the amount of sheer disrespect-“ he began before clamping a hand over his mouth. While Henchman gave his boss a confused look, Dice quickly began to panic. He recognized that look; that look was the Devil’s “I’m going to puke in roughly five seconds, and you’d better get out of the way before I do” look. Looking around in a panic, Dice’s eyes landed on a nearby wastebasket. He grabbed it, eliciting some protests from the imp whom it belonged to, and shoved it into the Devil’s arms-

-just in time for his boss to lose his lunch into it.

Both King Dice and Henchman cringed at the gagging and retching sounds currently coming from their boss. Dice silently walked behind the Devil and began to slowly rub circles on his back. After a while, the Devil pulled the wastebasket away from his face and put it on the ground. Any trace of anger on his face had been replaced by exhaustion.

“…Hey boss, why don’t you go back to bed?” Henchman suggested gently, finally breaking the silence. Surprisingly, the Devil nodded in agreement and stumbled off, practically leaning on his pitchfork as he did. Henchman’s eyes widened in surprise. “Gosh, he must be really out of it.”

“…Take this and go find someone that can cook,” he told Henchman, pulling out a slip of paper and shoving it into his hands. The demon was visibly confused, but he nodded and flew off. King Dice glanced over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of one of the imps carrying off the now-full garbage can (which Dice was rather grateful he didn’t have to deal with; he was pretty sure he saw its contents squirm), before walking to get what he needed once more.

——————————————

“Mind if I come in?”

Getting no answer from his boss, King Dice creaked open the door and peered inside. The Devil was curled up on top of his bed, both arms wrapped tightly around his stomach. Dice walked inside, a glass of water in his right hand, and sat down on the bed. Now that he was closer, Dice could practically feel the aura of misery radiating off the demon. He quietly pulled out a thermometer and slipped it between the Devil’s lips. After a few moments of waiting, he took it out of his boss’s mouth and examined it.

505.6 degrees. A bit higher than the usual, but nothing too worrying.

“How’s your stomach doing?” he asked, stretching out in order to make himself more comfortable.

“‘M feeling better,” the Devil mumbled, unfurling slightly. Dice gave his boss a sympathetic look and slid the glass of water into his hand.

“Here, this’ll help get the taste out of your mouth,” he explained. The Devil nodded and sipped the water, managing to get down a little over half of it before putting it on the nightstand. Smiling, Dice gently tucked his boss in, who instantly snuggled into the blankets with a content sigh. Just as he did, there was a knock at the door before Henchman entered with a serving cart.

“Uh, got what you asked for Mr. King Dice!” he informed them, stopping the cart right next to the bed. Dice smiled while the Devil simply looked confused.

“Thanks Henchman,” Dice replied, getting up and grabbing the tray. Henchman saluted in return and fluttered out of the room. The Devil eyed the bowl on it suspiciously.

“Whazzat?” he asked groggily. Dice chuckled and shifted over so that he was facing the Devil.

“Relaxed, it’s just soup; I figured this might help your stomach settle down a bit. It’s my grandmother’s recipe, actually,” he explained. The Devil relaxed slightly and reached for the spoon. Dice pushed his hand down. “Ah ah ah, oh no you don’t. Let me handle this.”

“Dice, I’m not a child,” he said grumpily, crossing his arms. Despite this, he didn’t make another grab for the spoon, so Dice took this as permission to pick it up and gather a spoonful of the soup. He then slid the spoon between the Devil’s lips. The demon swallowed and made a pleased noise.

“How was it?” Dice asked. The Devil nodded, indicating it was good. Dice smiled and got another spoonful from the bowl, which the Devil ate enthusiastically. It didn’t take very long for the rest of the soup to vanish.

Maybe he should’ve mixed the medicine into the soup. It was definitely easier to get him to eat the soup than to take the medicine.

“Alright, it’s about time I headed back,” Dice said, stretching as he got off the bed and began to walk out of the room.

“Wait!”

King Dice froze as he felt a hand wrap around his wrist. Turning around, he saw the Devil with his arm outstretched and his eyes averted in embarrassment.

“It’s-it’s just…well, it’s rather lonely in here, and-and you know how I feel about being sick…” he mumbled shyly. Seeing his embarrassment regarding the subject, Dice smiled,

“Okay, I’ll stay a little while longer. I need to be back to my apartment by tonight, though,” he replied, sliding back into the bed. The Devil smiled and snuggled into the crook of Dice’s arm. Finally, there was some level of peace and quiet in the room.

“…You do realize I’m going to have to give you more medicine soon since you threw up the last dose, right?”

“Don’t ruin this, Dice.”

————————————

“Mind if I come in?”

King Dice looked up from his book and gestured for Henchman to come in, not wanting to wake up the sleeping Devil snuggled against his arm. Henchman slowly opened the door, briefly scanning the inside of the room, before walking in.

“How’re things going out there?” Dice asked as the purple demon approached. Henchman smiled with some level of mischief.

“Oh, everything’s goin’ great! Unfortunately, I may have ’accidentally’ spilled some water on Stickler’s records, which means he has to start over again,” he replied, giggling mischievously. Dice chuckled and stroked the Devil’s fur.

“Good, good. One less thing for him to worry about.”

“Uh, anyways, how’s the boss doing?” he whispered, looking over the black-furred demon with concern. Dice smiled and closed his book.

“He’s doing better than before. Last time I took his temperature, his fever was down to 503,” he replied. He then sighed in exhaustion and frustration. “Wasn’t any easier to get him to take his medicine, though.”

“Yeah, the boss has never been good with taking medicine,” Henchman agreed. He then fluttered over to the Devil, pulled out a wet washcloth, and began dabbing his boss’s forehead once more. “Shouldn’t you be headin’ back soon, Mr. King Dice?”

“Eh, what’s the harm in staying a few more minutes? Boss seems pretty comfortable like this,” he replied, shrugging casually. Henchman nodded and put the now-dry washcloth back.

“Gotcha. If you need anything, just call for me,” he told Dice. He then fluttered out of the room, shutting the door gently behind him. Dice chuckled and went back to his book, feeling the gentle rise and fall of the Devil’s body against his.

Maybe these next few days wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[outeremissary]

For Balthazar and Tristian: 4., 8. and 14. 💖

From this prompt list... some parts of this felt like a challenge to keep it all spoiler free, but I’ve done my best!!!

4. Which one is more protective? Who needs to be “protected”?

Balthazar certainly believes he’s the more protective one. He’s quick to defend Tristian’s reputation and to quietly undermine people who spread rumors about Tristian. And when it comes to threats against him, there’s no hesitation and no mercy at all. He’s even willing to fight for Tristian himself if it comes to it. He’s not much of a fighter, but if it takes that kind of risk to keep Tristian safe, he’ll dive in without thinking. Tristian is practically the only person Balthazar is willing to risk himself for. There’s not much he wouldn’t do to know Tristian is safe.

With all that said. There's a terribly strong case to be made that it's actually Tristian. Tristian may be better attuned to Balthazar's safety than Balthazar himself- he's always thinking ahead of threats against Balthazar and how to ward against them (and there are an awful lot of threats to track). He's the one who argues most intensely against Balthazar putting himself in risky situations, and he has significant concerns about Balthazar going out to do things alone. After one incident in which Balthazar was seriously hurt, Tristian started inviting himself along any time he was concerned for Balthazar's safety (something which was not at all appreciated at the time). And when there is a choice that must be made between Balthazar's life and the lives of others... Well, Sarenrae forgives some straying, doesn't she? Keeping Balthazar safe is a thankless job, but it's a significant preoccupation of Tristian's. No matter what it takes, Balthazar won't die as long as he has something to say about it.

Either way, definitely an element of "How could you be so reckless?!" *turns around and does something just as bad*

8. What happens if one of them gets sick?

If Balthazar gets sick, then Tristian would be the one personally tending him. He wouldn’t leave his side without being sure of Balthazar's safety- especially considering the way strange ailments have a way of plaguing the Stolen Lands. As an expert healer, making sure Balthazar is cared for wouldn't be a significant challenge, but he'd still want to be present as much as possible for comfort and to keep an eye on things. If the illness was serious, however, you'd be hard pressed to get him to leave Balthazar's side. It would drive him mad with worry until he knew Balthazar was recovering, and even then he'd lose sleep over it. When I think about it, Balthazar does have a knack for getting seriously injured or cursed… something adjacent to this happens more often than it probably should.

Balthazar isn’t exactly useful at a sickbed, but he'd hang around anyway. He'd be quick to abandon responsibilities to advisors to make himself available, especially if it was serious. If he was made to leave, he’d fret nonstop and be in a mood that made life unpleasant for everyone around him. Either way he'd do everything he could to be sure that Tristian was as well cared for as possible- the best medicine available, the best healer... it might seem like too much for small illnesses, but he can't help but worry for Tristian's comfort and safety. He'd say as much to any protest.

14. How do their personalities complement each other? How do they clash?

I already answered this one, but I can add some Extra Things just for fun!

At times, Balthazar gets impatient with the amount of time Tristian gives up to other people. Tristian will sometimes suddenly cancel plans with Balthazar if something he thinks is important comes up and trust Balthazar to understand, but it does annoy him a great deal. Balthazar can't really understand (or doesn't want to) prioritizing spontaneous acts of charity over a loved one.

On the other hand, Balthazar has a habit he often falls into of speaking vaguely or in implication and innuendo which seem fairly clear to him, and it can be very confusing and sometimes frustrating for Tristian, who can't always follow. Clarity of communication would be appreciated.

Generally, Balthazar has an easier time keeping calm and adapting when plans are thrown off, something which is very reassuring.

Together both of them are incredibly good at social tasks and planning. Balthazar has always been socially gifted and generally has a strong understanding of how people work, and Tristian has a deep investment in and care for others. It's an excellent combined skillset for a kingdom. It also makes it easy for them to consult with one another about projects. In the end they have similar visions for outcomes even if the reasoning for wanting them can be different.

Both of them are hard workers with a tendency to get lost in projects (which one might not expect of Balthazar considering his tendency to avoid tasks he dislikes, but is true), and this means a tendency towards late nights and skipped meals left to their own devices. It winds up being that they keep an eye on one another and mitigate some of these tendencies- there's a strong "well, it's fine for me to be doing unhealthy things, but I'm not going to let you!" mentality there.

[motleyfam]

Hi! I’m not the same anon you replied to about the settle our bones, and I’m not sure if you want to hear any other comments rn, but I wanted to say I really love all your fics but that one specifically!! I love reading sick fics, and I couldn’t care less if it’s the same thing over and over (although I don’t think your fics are like that!). So I guess “realism” never really bothered me in sick fics lol. Tbh I really like the comfort aspects of sick fics that I feel you capture really well. I really should’ve sent something like this earlier; I hope you do continue the series, but only if you want to!!

I appreciate you, thank you 💚

[hychlorions]

writing a sickfic with the most bizarre fucking context. at least for a sickfic

[hmshermitcraft]

Mumbo gets whiney when ill, not stoic like mahy people believe. He gets picked up by Grian, who will go on with all his daily tasks with thw addition of a sniffly, whiney Mumbo in his arms or on his lap.

Mumbo will occasionally just urst into tears and Grian has to slowly let him calm down, treating him like a sweet baby. Surprisingly, Grian doesn't even tease Mumboa bout his, as he knows it's just Mumbo's hybrid brain going into cat-mode

Mumbo knows it's stupid. He knows he's being a big baby about things. But thinking about that just makes him feel worse and then it starts all over again!

Which means he just has to wait it out, and feel very lucky to have such a patient and understanding boyfriend.

[lhaagain]

@sicktember Prompt 15 - Frostbite/Sunburn

Set around Season 1

“What on earth happened?” Cynthia asked as she and Chummy stepped into the hall at the sound of a disruption coming from the front door.

“There was…” Sister Julienne managed before she had to stop, her teeth chattering. She was dripping into an increasingly large puddle on the hall floor, a heavy grey blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

“Some young lads were mucking about on their bikes down by the dock,” Fred offered from beside her. “One of them went over the side and into the water. You know what it’s like round here - not a one of them can swim.”

“So this fool, decided to go in after him,” Evangelina said, appearing through the door behind them, carrying both their medical bags.

Read more on AO3

[afekmzf]

My first sarascara fic!

Summary:

After she drank, she gave back the cup to him and, obscured by the shadows, studied his expression. A slight furrow of eyebrows, fidgeting hands, and a softened gaze filled with worry. He is scared. The Wanderer is scared.

"Are you scared?” She asked him, her voice still rough and coarse. The following silence was the only answer she needed.

-x-

Sara and the wanderer were tracking through the Sumeru forest, during which Sara got sick. What follows are some introspections and sweet talks. And Sara getting taken care of, which she deserves.

Ship: Kujou Sara/Scaramouche

Language: English

Chapters: 1/?

Words: 4.4k

[its-time-to-write]

Thank you so much for the response to my request <3. the fic was better then I could have hoped!!!!

I have a new request (but feel free to focus on the story themes you were wanting to do!), I have been really wanting to see a Jamie fic where he takes care of sick reader. Could be period or illness (no preference) and Jamie has no idea how to help but tries his best. I think its a cute idea

Can't wait to read more of your fics!

Thank you so much for requesting!! Literally love when people ask me to write things. Also, apparently everyone loves a sickfic because my other one has the most notes of everything I’ve written. Anyway, here’s your fic!

there’s orange juice in the kitchen

You are not sure of much, but you know one thing: you’re in pain. It’s 2am, and you’ve gotten a grand total of two hours of sleep. You’ve given up on laying in your bed and have filled up your bath with hot water, bubbles, and bath salts. Lots of bath salts. Your abdomen feels like it’s shredding itself and you suppose, technically speaking, it is. You’re just relieved that tomorrow is the weekend and you don’t have to slog through a work day, white-knuckling these absolutely ripping period cramps. 

You don’t have regular periods like, ever, and your doctor’s concerned about your fertility. You remember waving it off with the statement, “That’s a problem for another day.” Thing is, that was just a cop-out. You didn’t want to think about it for a single second because then it would become real, and you make it a personal point never to complain about a period no matter how brutal it is because at least it’s something and never mind that your last one was four months ago, you’re ok. You have a good life and good people and you’re fine. 

It’s just the principle, you know? The desire of choice. 

The hormones don’t help either. 

But anyway, you’re in your tiny bath trying to soothe the pain you’re in, trying to make yourself tired enough to fall asleep once you get out. You breathe, in, out. In, out. 

You’re up till 6am when you finally doze off. 

—

You wake up in a sweaty haze. You’re in soft pants and a large t-shirt, on top of your sheets rather than in them. You reach for your phone then pull your legs in with a sharp gasp. You’re still in pain. 

It subsides so you reach again and check the time. 9:01. You groan. Three hours of dubious sleep is not enough. You have a missed text from Sam (remind me which brand of kitchenware you use?) two missed texts from Keeley (look at this absolutely adorable puppy! Attached: 1 Image), and a missed call from Jamie. 

Ah, right. Jamie. 

Your boyfriend. 

Who you were supposed to meet for breakfast exactly sixteen minutes ago. 

Shit. 

You call him back and he answers on the first ring. 

“Hey love!” he says. “You alright? Not like you to miss breakfast.”

You grimace. “I uh, I wasn’t feeling well last night and I haven’t slept very good. I forgot to text you. Didn’t fall asleep until 6.”

“A.M.?” Jamie asks and you reply to the affirmative. He lets out a long “shiiit,” followed by a, “how contagious are you?”

“For you? Not very,” you say. “For another girl, incredibly contagious, although some say that’s an old wive’s tale.”

Jamie is silent in confusion, then- “Ohh, I get it! You’re not sick-sick, you’re on your fucking period.”

You chuckle, despite remaining curled up on your side. 

“Yes,” you reply, “My fucking period. I feel nauseous and tired and I am bleeding so. Much. It’s like my body’s making up for the last four months of nothing.”

Jamie’s silent for a moment and you internally cringe, kicking yourself for over sharing. You haven’t been together that long, about a month and a half, and he doesn’t need to know that about you. He’s a famous footballer, after all, and a guy’s guy. Probably gets grossed out about periods and stuff. 

Then he says, “Can I come over? I’ll bring food,” and your worries almost completely evaporate. 

“As long as you don’t care about how disgusting I am or the fact that I hurt a lot, sure,” you say. “I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

—

Jamie’s at your flat in 40 minutes, which is fast considering how much food he walks in with. He’s brought a bag of Chinese takeout, plus two overflowing grocery bags. 

“This is for now, these are for later,” he explains. He’s in a pink sweatshirt with matching shorts and socks, and maybe it’s the damned hormones again but he looks hot. His hair is pushed back with a headband and you want him to fuck you. You don’t think you can convince him, though, what with the blood. And the fact that he’s Jamie fucking Tartt. And that he probably doesn’t do shit like that because it’s gross. 

Your brain whispers, but he’s here, isn’t he? so you just push that thought down to live with other scary ones like, I will never have kids, or I’m going to live with this pain for the rest of my life.

Jamie is oblivious to this, just pulling everything out of the bags and chattering on. He’s kicked off his trainers near the door, and he hasn’t made any comments about the fact that you’ve wrapped a blanket around your shoulders like a shroud, or that your hair is in the messiest bun in the history of the world. Not the sexy, reader-insert fan fiction type of messy bun, either. Just an I-did-not-get-anywhere-NEAR-enough-sleep-last-night messy bun. 

“-and me mum always drank orange juice, swore it helped with bloating or hydration or somethin’, I don’t really know, but I got some of that too and this tea that’s supposed to help with cramps, and also a shit-ton of chocolate because I didn’t know which kind was your favorite. I was thinking we can sit on the couch and watch a movie or play Animal Crossing or some shit while eating the takeout, then I can cook you a proper fucking meal later. Coach always says it’s important to have a balanced meal when you’re under the weather, and I think it applies to this too.” He stops when he notices you just looking at him. “You alright, babe?”

“Yeah, I just- why did you get all this?” you blurt out. 

For the first time since you’ve known him, Jamie looks unsure of himself. “I dunno. I mean, I do know. You didn’t sound great over the phone, and Keeley’s always telling me to fucking listen to other people, and me mum was always the same on her period so I used to get her the things she wanted all the time. And-” he takes a breath, “and I picked up on what you said. The fuckin’ four-months shit. That ain’t good babe. Even I know that. And, we haven’t been together that long, but I’m pretty fucking sure you know that too, and I wanted to let you know I’m sorry.”

You’re momentarily fixed on the way he says certain words. Keeleh. Sorreh. It’s sweet, for some reason, and it causes a dull ache in your chest. You realize what he’s actually said to you and that ache deepens. You’d kiss him if you weren’t sure your breath was gross. 

So instead, you settle for nodding and staring at your kitchen wall. That’s because option one is kissing and option two is crying. You can’t do either right now.

A traitor tear slips out your eye anyway, and you hope Jamie won’t see it. He does. 

“Hey, hey.” He comes around the counter and pulls you into a hug, blanket shroud, messy bun, and all. “Love. It’s alright. It’s alright. You’re not alone, and we’re going to go sit on the couch and eat as much food as we can and then pass out, alright? We’re not going to think about anything else except what’s right in fuckin’ front of us.”

“That was,” you sniff, “weirdly philosophical. And very sweet. And I’m sorry for being disgusting.”

Jamie pulls away from you, and you think this is the first time he’s realized how gross you are. 

“Don’t say that shit, babe,” he says, and you laugh before you realize he isn’t joking. 

“I’m serious,” he continues. “You might feel disgusting, but you aren’t. You smell like fucking lavender, for Christ’s sake. Your pajamas are clean, and so’s your hair. Might be fuckin’ messy right now, but me mum also taught me to braid, so it’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

You pull him back against you and let some more tears come out. 

“Why are you being so nice,” you ask, voice muffled through his sweatshirt. 

“Oh, dunno,” he replies, hint of a smile in his voice, “Think you’re fit. I like shower sex. You pick.” He pauses. “Maybe both. Heard that it can help with cramps.”

You laugh wetly into his chest. He’s warm and comforting, and so completely not what you expected him to be. You both stand in the kitchen for another minute, his cheek resting on your head before he says, “Oi, you hungry?”

“God, yes,” you say, “I could eat a fucking horse.”

“Good.” Jamie picks up the bulging bag of takeout and a roll of paper towels. “Lead the way, babe.”

—

It’s not until much later, after you’ve eaten, watched a movie, and showered (and all that implies) that you realize you’re finally tired. Finally calm. You let yourself relax on your bed in Jamie’s arms, breathing in his clean smell. In, out. In, out. By the third breath, you’re asleep. 

[eightmakesonebraincell]

[fic rec mlist] member x reader | hyung line

main mlist | prev (ot8) | next (member-specific cont)

only general themes and tags are listed - please read through the author's specific tags and warnings

both sfw and nsfw fics are included. minors please dni with nsfw fics and respect the age restrictions put into place by the writers (suggestive, smut, and trigger warnings are highlighted in red)

🩶 favourites

white love | @sorryimananti-romantic

genre: iceprince!hongjoong x fireprincess!reader, fantasy, fluff, angst

length: oneshot - 24k

there seems to be an eternal winter set in wonderland caused by the ice prince hongjoong, and you- the fire princess who has been laying low for a while- set out to end it. what you don’t expect is to find him freezing to death trapped in a tower, and as you save him, you find out that the mages in wonderland are uprising to end the original bloodline- titled prince and princesses. creating a small team with your childhood friend seonghwa and a water mage yunho, you and hongjoong fight against the threat to your life while uncovering secrets and finding unexpected friends and love.

horizon | @pxedpiper

genre: pirate!au, fluff, angst, trigger warnings

length: 22/22 chapters [completed] - 79.0k

once a princess of a kingdom you loathed to call yours, you have somehow found yourself aboard a pirate ship, stuck on the ocean waves. now you try to figure out how to escape them, but as you continue to journey with them, you find yourself wondering if you even want to.

feverish | @hwaightme

genre: fluff, sickfic

length: oneshot - 2.4k

as you come down with a cold, hongjoong is right there to lift you back up again, be it with soup, song, presence, or all at once.

nighthawks | @the7thcrow

genre: designer!hongjoong x writer!reader, angst, fluff, meet-cute

length: 5.9k

you share a night, a cigarette, and a sobering conversation with a beautiful stranger. a glimpse of normality for you troubled nighthawks.

marigold | @yoongiseesawmp3

genre: fratboy!hongjoong, fluff, smut

length: oneshot - 12.7k

your best friend and the bane of your existence is probably the love of your life, and you’re not sure how to tell him. your mutual friend seonghwa knows about your true feelings for hongjoong, and he does everything in his power to get you two together. one halloween party, one rainy car ride and one emotional rollercoaster later, you finally get a taste of what you’ve been waiting so long for. 

project d | @setsugekka

pairing: hongjoong x reader, yunho x reader

genre: street racing au, ex!hongjoong, angst, smut, trigger warnings

length: oneshot - 20.5k

with a nice enough guy who’s just a little too rough around the edges for your parents liking, and a best friend who put you up to him (albeit a tad unknowingly), surely things can’t possibly get more complicated for the local illegal street racing squad. except, between racing for pink slips and bragging rights, there’s emperors leader, jeong yunho.

daisies | @the7thcrow

genre: summer camp au, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, angst

length: oneshot - 11.0k

one last trip. that was what you wanted. to let yourself dream of your childhood sweetheart one final time, before closing that chapter of your life forever. however, the last thing you expected was for him to actually be there.

bodyguard | @baekhvuns

genre: mafia!au, romcom, angst, smut

length: oneshot - 37.8k

in which his task is to be your bodyguard, his mob-boss’s daughter. where he not only guards you but also guards your body.

one day at a time | @sorryimananti-romantic 🩶

pairing: seonghwa x reader, yunho x reader

genre: soldier!au, fluff, angst, suggestive, trigger warnings

loving seonghwa was like loving the moon. loving yunho was like loving the sun. the story of how you fell in love with seonghwa, one of the king’s trusted agent, married him, had a daughter and then lost him forever- and how you fell in love with yunho- also the king’s trusted agent, seonghwa’s best friend, a loving father to your daughter, and a husband who gave you enough space to grieve seonghwa, and enough time to make you fall in love with him.

length: oneshot - 18.5k

pov: you're a stereotype in an 80s classic | @atozfic 🩶

genre: strangers/enemies to lovers, highschool!au, badboy!au, angst, fluff

length: oneshot - 22.2k

a look into the life of six students who find themselves stuck in detention… for the entire school year.

this world | @hwaightme 🩶

genre: biker!seonghwa, fluff, romance, strangers to lovers, action, smut

length: oneshot - 16.2k

caught between the past and present, you search for a new beginning in night city as a mechanic at outlaw customs. how will a fateful encounter with seonghwa, the leader of the blue birds, help you feel alive?

sleazy seonghwa who sneezes | @chaseatinydream

genre: badboy!au, fluff

length: twoshot - 9.8k

by the intervention of fate (namely choi san), you see a different side to the school’s resident bad boy that you weren’t aware existed.

pirate!seonghwa | @ateezmakemeweep

genre: angst, fluff

length: oneshot - 13k

nil author synopsis

i'll be with you | @cheollipop

genre: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

length: oneshot - 1.6k

a long, dreadful day at work calls for a hot shower and sleep, perhaps a few hours of crying as well. what you don't account for, however, is the man who wouldn't let you go through that alone.

royal library | @nczennie

genre: royalty!au, angst, fluff, smut

length: oneshot - 10.1k

you turn to look at seonghwa, “thank you for keeping my secret,” you smile at him and he returns it, quickly standing to bow, “of course, your highness. your secret is safe with me”.

addicting kitten | @tenelkadjowrites

genre: smut

length: 6/6 chapters [completed] - 34.3k

when your car breaks down and your phone is dead, you are stranded alone on the way home. however, when seonghwa, the intimidating figure you see at the club often, comes by and offers you a ride, you cannot help but feel as if you might be walking into the lion’s den.

playing with fire | @ateezmakemeweep 🩶

genre: sugardaddy!hwa, fluff, angst, smut

length: 5/5 chapters [completed] - 121k

when your scholarship falls through during the last semester of your college career, you were, admittedly, on edge.  overwhelmed by the prospect of delaying your graduation to save up thousands of dollars or work a second job or, per the suggestion of your roommate, sell pictures of your feet.  you first met park eunbi during your first year of college, when she walked through your dorm room with a smile on her face and her parents by her side - or, more notably to you, her incredibly handsome father.  that’s all he ever was to you though - your friend’s hot dad who you only ever saw a few times a year.  but when you find yourself around him more and more often, your attraction growing and his eyes lingering, you suddenly find yourself in a situation you know is wrong but can’t seem to pull yourself out of. 

lights out | @ateezmakemeweep

genre: neighbour!yunho, angst, fluff

length: oneshot - 7k

nil author synopsis

promise | @sorryimananti-romantic

genre: prince!yunho x princess!reader, arranged marriage, fluff, angst, suggestive

length: oneshot - 23k

‘i’ll be a friend to you, if nothing more’ is the promise yunho, prince of wonderland makes when you, the princess of eden find yourself in an arranged marriage with him to avoid war. however, war approaches and eden sides with the enemy. will you and yunho stick with each other? will you find love in this arranged marriage?

one day at a time | @sorryimananti-romantic 🩶

pairing: seonghwa x reader, yunho x reader

genre: soldier!au, fluff, angst, suggestive, trigger warnings

length: oneshot - 18.5k

loving seonghwa was like loving the moon. loving yunho was like loving the sun. the story of how you fell in love with seonghwa, one of the king’s trusted agent, married him, had a daughter and then lost him forever- and how you fell in love with yunho- also the king’s trusted agent, seonghwa’s best friend, a loving father to your daughter, and a husband who gave you enough space to grieve seonghwa, and enough time to make you fall in love with him.

come fly with me | @hwaightme

genre: pilot!yunho, fluff, angst, slice of life

length: oneshot - 9.0k

aerophobia - the fear of flying. and clearly, something that your boss has no idea exists. while you curse the universe and the metal bird, your handsome seatmate ponders if it is possible to redirect this flight, from gwangju, to your heart.

convenience store chances | @ohmyamor

genre: exbf!yunho, fluff, comfort, trigger warnings

length: oneshot - 2.5k

it’s the typical story of right person, wrong time. but maybe an unfortunate situation might turn the wrong time into the right time.

you're enough | @cheollipop

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst

length: oneshot - 2.0k

with the soft scent of baby wipes following him, yunho helped you stand back up to face the storm within your mind.

out of the woods | @sluttywoozi

genre: rom com, friends to lovers, fluff, smut

length: 3/3 chapters [completed] - 9.2k

you’ve been driving yunho nuts lately and he just can’t figure out why. he hates being annoyed with his friends, so he’s been avoiding you. it’s difficult to stay away when you’re locked together in a cabin with seven of your closest friends, though.

complete relaxation package | @beahae

genre: massage therapist!yunho, smut

length: oneshot - 4.8k

you’ve been neglecting your self-care for a while now so you decide to treat yourself to a massage. you deserve it! you didn’t realize the guy you booked would be so attractive though.

lovers in the night | @atzfilm

genre: sugar daddy!yunho, exes to lovers, fluff, angst, smut

length: oneshot - 11.3k

just out of your college with a freshly printed degree, you set out for a job that would fit your somewhat high standards. after a brief scroll through a sugar daddy website and a meeting set-up, you sit across from the one man you didn't expect to see — jeong yunho, your ex-boyfriend and apparently, a millionaire looking for someone to spoil.

[newly added] your hand | @smileysuh

genre: tattooist!yunho, smut

length: oneshot - 6.6k

it’s a classic parlor love story: big tattoo man finds new receptionist cute, but he can’t talk to her until something totally avoidable happens that brings them together out of his own sheer stupidity- that kind of shindig ;) 

prince!yeosang x servant!reader | @ateezmakemeweep

genre: angst, fluff

length: oneshot - 4k

nil author synopsis

badboy!yeosang | @ateezmakemeweep

genre: angst, fluff, smut

length: oneshot - 18k

nil author synopsis

ideal woman | @the7thcrow

genre: gang!au, romance, angst, suggestive

length: oneshot - 10.5k

at the only bar in town where the lines drawn between different gangs becomes blurry, you spot your intellectual rival involved in one of the biggest underground organizations the city has to offer. responsible for the recent heist on your warehouse, as well as the death of multiple of your gang’s own members, he’s understandably considered someone that you should not be talking to. you buy him a drink.

the most lonely creature | @atzfilm

genre: serpent!yeosang, fantasy, fluff, angst, smut

length: oneshot - 35.9k

finding a yeouiju in the forest brings terrors unlike you've ever seen– in the shape of a water god

siren | @sorryimananti-romantic

genre: siren!yeosang, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst

length: oneshot - 27.8k

yeosang is a siren and you're a siren-hunter. he may have lost his voice and you may be immune to a siren's call, but he has you bewitched anyway. on your journey together to find the sirens who killed your parents and took his voice, you make new friends, find yourself cursed and turning into a siren, and fall for yeosang. he proves time and time again that he's not the monster you thought all sirens to be as he helps you come to terms with yourself and find the person who cursed you.

last updated: 24 march 2024

[jurassicsickfics]

Some burping themed sickfic prompts for your enjoyment:

1: sickie letting out big, wet burps right before throwing up

2: Caretaker pats sickie on the back and accidentally burps them like a baby. Bonus points if sickie is pleasantly surprised that it kinda helped and even more Bonus points if this becomes something caretaker does for sickie all the time

3: sickie burping so loudly in the middle of the night that caretaker wakes up and mumbles, "you good?"

4: Burping while making out

5: belly rubs causing sickie to burp

6: suddenly burping alot being the first indicator that a preppy character is sick, because they'd never do that unless they had an upset stomach

7: character burping when someone else hugs them because their stomach was squeezed by the hug

8: a character burping during a serious situation because of a nervous stomach

9: a whiny, "Ugh, my tummy hurts..." followed by a huge belch

10: emetophobic character panicking that they have to throw up, only to let out a huge burp and then immediately feel better, embarrassed that they overreacted

[miel-ji]

Don’t Let Me Go

Genre: fluff, slight angst, sickfic, established relationship

Pairing: Idol!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2k

Warning: sickness, symptoms of food poisoning, mention of death (joke)

Summary: You were finally able to see Hyunjin when you joined him on his tour, but he suddenly gets food poisoning to which you want nothing more than for him to feel better.

A/N: Based on this request by anon! Absolutely love when someone sends something in my asks <333 also I’ve never had food poisoning so I hope I represented this accurately enough lol

It had been almost two months since you had last seen Hyunjin in person, and every day he was gone, you felt his absence more and more. You texted and called each other whenever you could, and he would always make sure to FaceTime you at night to end his day with you like usual. Even if he was so tired, he would accidentally fall asleep the second his head hit the pillow. You didn’t mind though, knowing that your boyfriend was working so hard to show stays the best performances, and you couldn’t be more proud of him as you watched him quietly snore into his pillow through your small phone screen.

On a particularly hard day when everything just seemed to remind you of Hyunjin and you had barely been able to speak to each other, the stars finally aligned in your favor. After a few arrangements and a few days spent agonizingly waiting, you were on a flight to Japan to join Hyunjin on his final leg of his tour. Excited thoughts about what a whole week of adventures in a country you’ve never visited before with your boyfriend would entail danced in your mind. When you first agreed to follow Hyunjin to Tokyo, he promised to show you all of his favorite spots and sights.

First thing was first though, which was catching up with your boyfriend, so you both skipped out on your first day in Japan, and you got very familiar with the inside of your hotel room. However, Hyunjin was more than ecstatic to take you out into the city the next day, in fact he would barely even let you leave his side at all. You had one wonderful day with your boyfriend visiting themed cafes, taking pictures in the park, walking through art exhibits, and ending at a rooftop restaurant with a spectacular view of the city skyline. When you were curled up in each other’s arms that night, you were the happiest you had been in a while and easily fell asleep with a smile on your face.

When you woke up that morning, all you felt was confused as you rolled over expecting to see your boyfriend’s messy black locks falling over his face as he slept peacefully only to be greeted by a cold empty space, telling you that he’s been up for a while. You stretched the stiffness from your body that sleep had left you with and flopped your hands back down in your lap, looking around wondering where Hyunjin could have gone. The mystery wasn’t left unsolved for long when you heard muffled noises coming from the bathroom. “Jinnie?” you called out as you padded over to the bathroom door of the hotel room that was left slightly ajar.

“Y/n,” you were slightly taken aback by how weak he sounded, and worry caused your stomach to churn.

You softly knocked on the door even if it wasn’t completely closed, still wanting to give him some privacy before asking, “are you alright?”

“I’m okay. You can go back to bed, love.” His voice was scratchy and strained, and the sound of dry heaves wracking his body punctuated his sentence. The contents of his stomach had long since been expelled leaving nothing but the motions of vomiting to tear through his body.

“Hyunjin,” You pushed the door open to find him draped over the toilet looking completely exhausted regardless of the fact that the day had barely even started. He sunk back against the wall with his head thrown back trying to catch his breath. You quickly crossed the bathroom and lowered yourself on the floor next to him. You ran your hands through his hair that was damp with sweat before placing the back of your hand against his forehead, “Jinnie, you’re burning up.”

He squeezed his eyes shut in pain and clutched his stomach with one arm, “you shouldn’t have to see me like this…”

“Baby, you know I love you in sickness and in health. I’m not going anywhere,” you gently tucked his hair behind his ears as your heart sank watching his face contort in pain.

“If you start saying vows, I’m going to have to start calling you my wife,” he weakly laughed before keening over clutching his stomach harder.

You rubbed soothing circles on his back as you watched him through furrowed brows. “I’m going to get the staff medic.”

You stood up to do just that when a shaky hand reached up to grab your wrist, and Hyunjin was looking up at you with panicked and pleading eyes, “love, I’m just grabbing my phone, okay?” You gently coaxed his hand away and kissed the back of it before going to fetch your phone.

You quickly returned back to Hyunjin’s side; he was in the same position you had left him. You called the staff medic to come and help Hyunjin while he rested his head on your shoulder. There were still beads of sweat running down his forehead, but he was slightly shivering as if he were cold. After pocketing your phone, you helped Hyunjin off the floor on shaky legs, and you let him support his weight on your shoulders as you led him back to bed.

Not shortly after, the staff medic arrived to inform you that Hyunjin had a case of food poisoning. He advised Hyunjin to stay hydrated as well as get plenty of rest in order to recover, and he told him which over the counter drug would help his upset stomach. You were making a mental list in your head of all the things that you would need to get Hyunjin when you went to the store as the medic was telling him. Once they finally left, Hyunjin tucked himself into your side while groaning about how bad he felt.

“I think I’m dying,” he whined with his head buried in the crook of your neck.

You lightly laughed at his dramatics, and you could feel the pout that formed on his lips against your skin, “I’m going to miss you when you’re gone.”

“You’re already giving up on me,” he pulled away from your neck to look up at you with an overexaggerated frown and wide sad eyes.

“Love, you’re the one who said it.”

“Yeah, but that was where you were supposed to reassure me and tell me everything was going to be okay.”

“Ohhh okay, my bad. Say it again.” you wiped the smile from your face and pretended to get into character by exhaling.

His eyes briefly shone with amusement and a small giggle escaped his lips before he whined again, “I can’t believe my tombstone is going to read death by a food I can’t even remember eating.”

This time you pulled him closer into you to which he responded by readily wrapping his arms around your body, and you combed your fingers through his tangled hair, gently massaging his scalp, “I won’t let anything happen to you, my better half, partner in crime, love of my life.” He released a huff not quite satisfied with your mocking tone. “What?” Your lips quirked up in a smile as you feigned innocence. You leaned down to kiss his forehead, “Seriously, I promise to always take care of you.” You said with your lips lingering on his skin.

“There you go with the wedding vows again,” Hyunjin joked, but at your words, he completely relaxed against you with a warm smile on his face.

You shrugged as you said, “Well, you were going to hear them sooner or later.”

You could see a blush bloom across his cheeks and creep up his ears from where he rested his head against your chest with his eyes closed. “Yeah, you’re right…” he softly said which caused a matching pink tint to appear on your face.

A silent promise passed between the two of you, and you stroked soothing circles on his back. Hyunjin’s breathing became shallow as he slipped asleep, and you watched his eyebrows tighten and untighten, still struggling through his sickness. You pulled the sheets over him since the comforter was too hot, but he would shiver without anything at all covering him. You kept him close against you wishing that you could take away all of his pain, willing to take it as your own.

Since that wasn’t possible, you knew the first step was getting the remedies that the medic had said, but you didn’t exactly want to leave your sick sleeping boyfriend. You decided to send a text to Chan to see if he would do this favor for you, and of course, no more than a second later, Chan informed you he was already on it. You spent the little time it took Chan to go to the store watching over Hyunjin, softly pressing your lips to his forehead to check his temperature every now and then, and holding him wrapped up in your arms. Finally, there was a knock on the hotel room door.

You quietly untangled yourself from Hyunjin and tried to slip out of his grasp when his eyes softly fluttered open, and he pulled you back into him. “Nooo,” he sounded weak again as he whined which just made your chest pang with distress. “Don’t let me go, please.”

“Love, I’m just answering the door,” you reassured him as you gently removed yourself from his arms which he immediately moved to clutch his stomach. You fought the urge to crawl back into bed to hold him as you went to answer Chan at the door.

“How is he?” Chan asked quietly as soon as you pulled the door open.

“He’s going through it right now. I really want him to feel better soon.”

Chan’s eyes reflected your own sad expression, and he gave you a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, all the guys are worried about him, but we feel better knowing you’re here to take care of him.”

You felt a little less helpless at the encouragement from Chan and the rest of the guys. “I’ll do everything I can to help him.”

“Thank you, y/n. Let us know if you need anything else, seriously.” With that, you took both the bags that were in Chan’s hands and said goodbye to him before returning to your boyfriend’s side. You sat back on the bed, and Hyunjin slowly pulled himself up against the headboard as if it took him a lot of effort to do so.

“What’s in the bags?” He tried to clear his throat to speak louder, but it was to no avail.

You peeked into the bags, “ooo, there’s water… electrolyte drinks… and medicine.” You tried to sound cheerful to make it more exciting.

“Ugh, medicine. Ew, pass.” Hyunjin tried to reach out and grab a bag, but you handed him one of the electrolyte drinks, watching him drink with a trembling hand.

“Hyunjin, you’re taking the medicine.”

He tried his best to appeal to you with his round dark eyes, but once he saw you weren’t backing down, he begrudgingly took the medicine. After he had finished his drink, you could tell he felt just a bit better from the way his shoulders perked up a bit more which in turn made you feel better too. He eagerly climbed back into your arms and snuggled against you releasing a content sigh despite his body still dully aching. You softly rubbed his tummy as he got ready to go back to his restorative rest.

“Y/n?”

“Mhm?”

“I’m so sorry I ruined this trip for you…”

You could see the guilt that laced his features as you halted your movements. You moved up your hand to gently caress his cheek, “Hyunjin, I just want to be wherever you are.” He let his eyes close, listening to your voice as he leaned into your touch as if that was what he needed to heal him. “You just focus on getting better.”

“You make everything better.” He answered softly before turning his head and kissing your palm.