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angstyaches · 1 year

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Page Sixty-Nine

Lilith Mars Forrester (they/them) and Blake Forte (he/him) belong to my WIP, Madame A’s Retreat for Spellworking.

No sickness or whump. Just a snippet with character vibes.

___

It was late afternoon, and Lilith had just found Blake in the library. He was cradling a leather-bound book in both hands and his back was slightly arched as he sat in the green-and-orange chair that he’d re-established as his designated ‘reading’ spot ever since his return. Lilith would have liked to scoff at his audacity, but had to admit that the tangerine tinge of his hair, and the dark tones that wove through most of his clothing choices, suited the aesthetic of the upholstery. He and that chair looked like a painting.

Unluckily for him, Lilith believed in a firm rift between the art and the artist. Blake and that chair and that book might all look beautiful together, but they knew the bullshit behind the visuals.

They walked right over to him and slapped the book out of his hands.

Its covers collapsed together and it flipped onto its back side before landing on the floorboards with a thunk.

"Hey!” Blake screamed. “You made me lose my page, asshole."

"Page sixty-nine," Lilith snapped. "Same page you've been ‘reading’ for the past two weeks."

Lilith half-expected him to say something snarky about Lilith looking over his shoulder often enough to notice that he never turned any pages.

“I’m a slow reader.”

“The other day, you had your book upside down. For an hour!”

If Blake had been flustered, it only lasted a couple of seconds before his face corrected itself.

“It’s page sixty-nine,” he shrugged. “It’s the same both ways.”

“Oh, shut... up,” Lilith murmured, trying not to think too hard about the fact that Blake was, infuriatingly, right.

Blake folded his arms.

“So, what are you actually thinking about all day?" Lilith planted their hands on their hips and tilted their head so aggressively that their whole body leaned to the side. "While you're staring a page, pretending to read? What’s going on in that head of yours?"

Blake shrugged. "I don't know. Chickens with bras on? Did you want something from me, Lilypad?"

Lilith almost physically retched in repulsion. Giving out nicknames was one of their proudest talents, and they sincerely hoped this wasn’t a case of their own medicine tasting terrible. “Okay, hate that. Knock that off this instant.”

Blake shrugged as if he couldn’t give a shit whether or not this conversation progressed. Or whether or not Lilith lived or died.

“What’d you want?” he repeated.

“I wanted to ask you what you came back here for!” Lilith gestured all around them, at the books and the leather and the gentle streams of sunlight that fanned out across the floorboards. It all seemed aggressively at odds with Blake’s icy presence. “Hmm? You’re not here to improve your skills. You’re not here to make friends. So what the fuck are you here for, Blake?"

Blake’s lips curled just a little. He leaned back into the armchair and propped a couple of fingers under his chin. It made Lilith bristle whenever they were reminded of the serene, commanding presence that Blake was capable of exuding; like his body was a golden statue, and he was surrounded by plastic imitations.

“Well?” Lilith asked, emphasising that their questions were not rhetorical.

They were pissed off enough that they genuinely wanted answers out of this guy. They’d have been lying if they denied being vaguely curious, too. Something had held Blake’s attention elsewhere for two solid years, and suddenly he was back at Madame A’s retreat, acting as though he’d never given a shit about anything or anyone in his life.

“What is it then? Are you here purely to make the rest of us miserable?”

"You flatter yourself, Lilypad."

"Okay, this is your last warning. Call me that again and I'll -"

Blake snorted. "This'll be good."

Lilith ground their teeth. Even if they could think of a suitable threat, Blake was going to dismiss them anyway. It was thankless work, arguing with this guy. It was better to scrunch your annoyance up into a little ball and store it somewhere within yourself.

"Blake.” Lilith lined up the tips of their fingers on each hand and pressed them together. “You've got Rex picking up the slack for you on the pairs project. You’re mean to Astrophel...”

“When have I ever been -?”

Lilith parted their hands, demanding to be allowed to finish. “You haven't cooked for us on any of your designated nights. You don't even hang out with us after lessons.”

"Fuck’s sake, is this what you're upset about?” The ghost of a smirk crept over Blake’s face. “That I won't come to your tedious Doctor Who marathons?"

"If you would just give Capaldi a chance - hmph." Lilith stroked their hands through the air to calm themself. "Blake.”

“Lil....”

Orion, give me strength.

“...lith,” Blake finished, his face the picture of forced innocence. The picture of a smug shithead.

Lilith exhaled. “Forget about hanging out with us. Forget about the dinners. No one missed your ‘plain pasta with salt’ anyway.”

“Harsh.”

“But stop. Taking. Advantage. Of. Rex,” Lilith said. “The only reason Madame A brought back the pairs projects is because there’s an even number of us this year. Thanks to you. Which means the extra work you’re dumping on Rex is double your fault.”

“You don’t give Rex enough credit.” Blake’s tone was disarmingly sharp. Accusatory, even. “If she had a real problem with me, she’d tell me herself. In fact, didn’t it occur to you that maybe she prefers not having to work with me? Do you think I didn’t see those looks all three of you gave each other when Madame A set the pairs?”

Guilt spilled over from the pot of emotions bubbling in Lilith’s gut. Had Blake really just made a series of good, morally impressive points?

“So. How about you shut up, leave me be, and stop trying to be everybody’s hero?” Blake looked nauseated, as though the word ‘hero’ had tasted like petrol on his tongue.

The guilt was abruptly washed away in a tide of anger. The least useful of the emotions, and the very last one you should bring into a conversation with Blake Forte.

Lilith turned away. For a few seconds, they were fully intent on just walking out of the library and leaving Blake’s words hanging, untouched, in the air. But before they could get through the door, they turned back around.

“Fuck you.” They wished their tone hadn’t been so gentle and matter-of-fact. They might as well have just told Blake that the weather was nice today.

But they were still kind of relieved that they’d said it.

Blake had just leaned down to pick his book up from the floor. “Hey, Forrester, remind me - what page was I on, again?”

#MARS Blake #MARS Lilith #Madame A's Retreat for Spellworking #OC stuff #whump writing #sickfic writing #OC writing #witch OCs #witch OC #Swallow the World #StW Nancy

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i-love-all-whumpees-equally · 7 months

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don't you ever see a blorbo and wanna just-

#whump #whump community #whump prompt #whump scenario #whump scenarios #whumpblr #whumpee #caretaker #sickfic #sickfic whump #fever whump #hospital whump #writing memes #oc memes #original character

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writersloveroe · 11 months

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sickfic romantic prompts

♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎

actions

•whispering sweet nothings as they fall asleep

•placing a hand on their forehead to check their temperature

•placing a blanket over them

•cooking their favorite soup

•running a finger through their hair while they sleep

•finding something to distract them from pain (ex: movies, video-games, etc)

•convincing them that the medicine’s taste isn’t that bad

•trying (or not trying) to refrain from giving them kisses in order to not get sick

•rubbing their stomach

♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎

dialogue

•”you’ll feel better in no time, i promise,”

•”geez, you’re burning up,”

•”my grandma swears by this chicken noodle soup recipe, i’m sure you’ll love it,”

•”i knew i should’ve made you wear a coat,”

•”can you kiss me? i’m sure i’ll feel wayy better if you do,”

•”i won’t get sick i promise, just let me kiss you!”

•”stop being dramatic the medicine flavor can’t be that bad,”

•”you’re shaking, if you needed a blanket just say so next time,”

•”i hate being sick, but i love when you take care of me,”

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esbee-daisy · 9 months

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Give me Caretaker bridal carrying a weak Whumpee who is desperately trying to stay conscious…Whumpees arms are around Caretakers neck and their head is bobbing up and down against Caretakers chest.

And then suddenly, all at once, Caretaker notices Whumpee somehow feels heavier. Caretaker looks down at Whumpee just as Whumpee’s arms fall limp and their head flops backwards. And Caretaker has to drop to the ground both out of shock and panic as well as to check that their precious cargo is still breathing and to recollect Whumpees deadweight limbs to their chest before they stand back up

🥺🥹

#fainting #sickfic prompts #sickfic whump #sickfic #writing prompt #whump #whumpee #caretaker #limp #passing out #collapse #unconcious #collapsing #eyes rolled back #bridal carry #whump prompt #dizzy

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alessiasfreckles · 4 months

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i'll always look after you (alessia russo x reader sickfic)

you're sick, and your girlfriend takes care of you.

A/N: warning for nudity (nonsexual!). this is so sappy and fluffy, and now i have major bath envy and wish my place had a bath so my girlfriend and i could have one together. based off of this request, i hope you like it!

You knew as soon as you woke up that you were getting sick. Your head felt weird, your hands were clammy, and everything hurt a bit. Rolling over, you turned off the alarm on your phone. All you wanted to do was curl up and go back to sleep, but there was no way you were missing training just because of a cold. You laid there for another minute, enjoying the warmth of your bed, before sighing and getting up. Anyway, you thought to yourself as you got ready to head out, you’d probably feel better once you were outside in the fresh air.

It didn’t take long for you to decide that you did not feel better in the fresh air. You were a couple hours into training, and your head pounded with every step you took. Your girlfriend watched you anxiously.

“Are you sure you’re okay, babe?” she asked, arms crossed, worry clear on her face.

“Yeah, Lessi, I’m fine,” you insisted, sweat beading down your forehead. “just a bit tired, that’s all.”

She wasn’t fooled. For the rest of the morning, she followed you around, keeping a close eye on you. By lunch even you had to admit that you felt awful, and there was no way you could keep training. You left early and collapsed into bed as soon as you got home.

You awoke a few hours later to the sound of keys in the front door. “Lessi?” you called out, voice hoarse. The two of you weren’t living together yet, but you spent so much time at each other’s places that you both had keys for the other’s house, just to make things easier.

“Baby, hi!” you could hear clattering and a soft thump, before your girlfriend’s face appeared through your bedroom door. “How are you feeling?”

“Sick,” you whined. “m’ head hurts and my throat is really dry.”

“Oh, darling,” she said, caressing your hair gently and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “hold on, I’ll get you a drink.” She reappeared a few minutes later carrying a mug and a glass of water. “Here, some tea, just the way you like it, and some cold water too, just in case. Oh, and I brought you some paracetamol!”

“Thank you, baby,” you said, moving over onto your side of the bed from the middle, where you had cocooned yourself in the duvet. “can we cuddle?”

“Can you take some medicine for me first?” she asked, holding out the paracetamol and the glass of water.

“Ugh, fine,” you said begrudgingly, wriggling out of your cocoon to take the medicine and a sip of water. “okay, now can we cuddle?”

She smiled at you, climbing into bed. “Of course, darling.”

You sighed contentedly as she spooned you, holding you close and keeping you warm. She drew shapes on your arm with a finger, pressing soft kisses on the back of your head, and it wasn’t long before you fell asleep again. Once your breathing changed and she could tell that you were fast asleep, Alessia slowly moved out from under the duvet, careful not to disturb you.

Going into the kitchen, she rummaged through the shopping bag that she’d dropped earlier. She pulled out some vegetables, put on some quiet music, and started peeling the veggies.

This time, you woke up to a delicious smell wafting through your apartment. Alessia was sat on the bed next to you, scrolling through her phone. She looked down when you rolled over, and smiled brightly at you.

“Hi baby,” she said gently, smiling at the way you cuddled into her side.

“Hi,” you replied, rubbing your eyes. “how long was I asleep for? And what’s that smell? It smells so good.”

She blushed lightly. “Oh, I made some soup for you. And you’ve only been asleep for about an hour, don’t worry.”

“You made me soup?” you asked, sitting up to look at her properly. “You made it? For me?”

“Yeah,” she said, chuckling. “who else would I have made it for?”

“No one has ever made me soup before,” you said, smiling in adoration. “I can’t believe you made soup for me.”

“Would you like to try some?” she asked, a smile on her face.

“Yes!”

“Wait here, I’ll get you a bowl.”

“No, I’ll get up,” you insisted. You hated spending so much time just lying in bed, it made you feel restless. And you felt better now anyway. Kind of. You stood up, the duvet still wrapped around you, and swayed in place. Okay, so maybe you didn’t feel better. “Woah.” you said, falling back onto the bed with a soft thump.

Alessia frowned, her face lined with worry. “No, baby, you stay here. I’ll get it for you.”

She came back a minute later with a bowl of fresh tomato soup, steam rising from it. “I hope it tastes okay, I haven’t really made soup before. There’s lots of veggies in it, to help your body get healthy again, but I blended them up so you wouldn’t have to deal with any chunks, in case your throat hurts.”

You took the bowl from her and took a sip. “Oh babe, this is so good,” you said, and she smiled with relief. “I think this is the best soup I’ve ever tasted,” you told her, and suddenly you realised you were crying.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” she asked, alarmed, taking the bowl from you. “Does something hurt? Was the soup too hot? Did you burn yourself?”

“No, I just-” you sniffled, grabbing a tissue and wiping your nose. “no one has ever made me soup before, and you did, and it’s so good, and I can’t believe you made it for me, and I just love you so much, and-”

“Oh, baby,” she cooed, cupping your face and wiping away your tears with her thumbs. “I love you.”

You nodded, sniffing. “Thank you for making me soup,” you said, taking the bowl back from her. “it’s really really good.”

“I’m glad,” she said, stroking your hair. “I have to say, no one has ever cried because of my cooking before. At least, not in a good way.”

You laughed, finishing the rest of your bowl. “Can I have some more, please?”

After you finished your second bowl of soup, Alessia grabbed your laptop and got back into bed with you, putting a tv show on for you both to watch. Your head was still pounding, and your limbs felt all sensitive and painful, but the warmth from her body against yours was helping. After the second episode finished, you realised just how sweaty and gross you felt from being in pyjamas for most of the day. Plus, you really needed to wash your hair.

“Baby?” you asked, and your girlfriend’s hand stilled on your leg, where it has been absent-mindedly playing with the drawstring from your pyjama bottoms. “Can you help me shower and wash my hair?”

“Of course, darling. We could even have a bath if you want?” she suggested, and you smiled.

“Ooh, a bath would be nice.”

She nodded, getting up to start the bath. You listened to the gentle splashing of the water, and after a couple minutes she came back into the bedroom. “I’ve put that bath stuff in, the one that you like.”

“Thank you, baby,” you said, standing up. This time you managed to stay up, although she did have to steady you with a hand on your waist, and you leant against her, breathing in her scent, a combination of her favourite perfume and the smell of the bath foam. Once in the bathroom she helped you undress, before undressing herself and joining you in the warm water. You sighed happily as she sat behind you, pulling you in to lean against her front.

“You want me to wash your hair now, or sit like this for a bit first?” she asked.

“Mm, sit like this for a bit first,” you said, enjoying the feeling of the warm water against your skin and the gentle rise and fall of her chest against your back. “How was the rest of training?”

“Fine,” she said, hands trailing up and down your sides and your arms under the water. “I was worried about you. Kept getting distracted,” she murmured into your ear.

“What are you like,” you said, smiling. “I was okay, no need to worry about me.”

“I like you,” she hummed. “want me to wash your hair now?”

“Yes please,” you said with a sigh. “otherwise I’m going to fall asleep.”

She took the shower head and put one hand against your forehead. “Let me know if it’s too hot or too cold?” she asked, switching it on. Her hand stopped any water from trickling down your face and into your eyes, and you relaxed against the steady stream of the shower.

You let out a moan as she massaged shampoo into your scalp, her fingers putting pressure on all the right spots. “That feels so nice,” you said, letting out another moan as she got a particularly tight spot at the base of your scalp.

“Moaning for me already, baby?” she asked, and you could hear the smirk in her voice. You rolled your eyes and slapped her arm lightly, and you felt her laugh against you. “I’m going to rinse the shampoo out now, okay?”

Her gentle hands combed through your hair as she rinsed away any suds. After your bath, she dried you off using a big fluffy towel that she’d put on the radiator. Once the two of you were in bed again, she brushed your hair gently, taking care not to pull too hard.

“How are you feeling now, my love?” she asked, making you blush. You loved it when she called you that.

“Still sick, my head hurts, and my throat is starting to hurt too,” you said, and turned to look at her with a cheesy grin. “but I feel all warm and clean and happy, thanks to you. Thank you for looking after me.”

Alessia smiled, cheeks red. “Of course, I’ll always look after you,” she said, kissing you softly. “I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, Lessi.”

#alessia russo #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #alessia russo fluff #sickfic #alessia russo imagine #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo fanfic #fluff #woso fluff #hannah writes fics

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delusionisaplace · 6 months

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idk if you still take requests buuuut…. could you do prompts for characters taking care of each other while sick / depressed? thank youu (also I love your writing)

ofc and thank you for the compliment i really appreciate it :)))

"𝙞'𝙢 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚…" 𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙨

have fun with these :) | tag me if you use any | if yall want more prompts like this, jus drop an ask

“You’re burning up…”

“I’m right here if you need anything, okay?”

“I’m fine.” “You’re not ‘fine’.”

“Is there anything I can get you?”

“Stop, let me do it.”

“Let me help you.”

“How do you feel?”

“Should I get you some water?”

“Try to eat something. Anything.”

“I don’t care if I get sick too.”

“Are you dizzy?”

“It’s fine; I can handle a few germs.”

“I’ll make you something to eat, alright?”

“I’m not going to leave you here like this.”

“I’ll go draw you a bath.”

“I’ll get you some medicine.”

“Do you want food, water or some ice?”

“Call me if you need anything.”

“I got you, okay?”

“Just sleep. I’m here for you.”

“Why are you acting like everything is fine?”

“Hey, are you still with me?”

“I’ll hold your hair if you need me to.”

“Do you want me to help you eat?”

“I’ll carry you to bathroom, okay?”

“I called out sick for you.”

"Remember to take your medicine on time, alright?"

"I can run to the pharmacy if you need anything."

"Tell me if the room is too bright or too cold."

“I’ll stay with you until you feel better.”

"I won't leave your side until you're better, promise."

"Don't tough it out; let me take care of you."

#𝙨𝙠𝙚𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙨𝙠𝙨 #imagine your otp #otp prompts #writing prompts #whump #whump prompts #dialogue prompts #sickfic #sickfic prompts

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sicktember · 11 months

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Official Sicktember 2023 Prompt List!

[Faqs Post]

[How to Submit Content Post]

[2023 Sicktember Collection on AO3]

[2023 Content Promotion Changes]

** Please remember to read the FAQs before asking event related questions**

[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”

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kotoku · 3 months

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ꜱᴜɴᴅᴀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀ ꜱɪᴄᴋ! ꜱ/ᴏ

pairings - sunday x sick !reader

content - reader is sick and sunday spends his day taking care of you / fluff / comfort / sickfic / a lil bonus scene :)

warnings - none

⋘ ʟᴏᴀᴅɪɴɢ... ⋙

↻ It wasn’t often that you would get sick, but if you found yourself starting to exhibit symptoms of the flu then Sunday would clear his schedule to ensure he had the day off

↺ If he wasn’t able to completely clear his schedule, then he’d do his best to call and check on you, having another family member or worker tending to your needs

↻ I can see him as being a mother hen when you’re sick, always checking in on you and getting everything you needed

↺ He’ll make sure you always have tissues and a rubbish can near you, an ice pack or heating pad, a glass of water or tea, etc…

↻ If there isn’t already medicine on hand, he’d personally send someone to get one or get it himself

↺ Getting it himself would be the last resort as he would like to be by you 24/7, in case anything were to happen then he’d be right there

↻ Sunday would take over any chores that you normally did, cleaning and disinfecting around the place while you slept

↺ If you had to work that day, he’d call in for you so that you could have a couple days of rest

↻ He’d make sure that you would eat something that would be light on your stomach

↺ Meals consisting of different soups and a couple of diced fruits, refilling your water here and there (he’s kind of your personal maid at this point)

↻ If you need help taking a shower, he would assist you, washing your hair and massaging your scalp gently or scrubbing your back

↺ Sunday would find you especially cute when he’s drying your hair, you just look so soft

↻ Although he would try his best to try and not get sick, a couple kisses (mainly on your forehead or hands) couldn’t hurt..could they..?

↺ He probably would get sick by the time you are feeling much better, and as disappointed as he is that he has to miss out on work while burdening you with his sickness, he would be so grateful that you’re willing to take care of him

↺ Sunday would insist that he could do things on his own but you’d help him anyway, eventually he just accepts his fate

↻ Sunday would make sure that the room is comfortable for you, as in the lighting from outside isn’t too bright or it isn’t too hot or cold in there (just in case you were sensitive to sounds and light)

↺ Personally, headaches where light and noise make it worse are something I HATE

↻ If you need help falling asleep, he’d hum a lullaby (could be one of his sister’s songs or something from his childhood) or talk to you about anything (lulling you to sleep with his voice)

↺ Once you are asleep, he’d place a soft kiss on your forehead while holding your hand, tucking you in, and remaining by your side for the rest of your sleep

-----

The city noises were muffled, the lights from outside leaving the room dimly lit through the curtains. The temperature of the room was neither too hot nor too cold. Sunday had ensured the room was to your comfort, not wanting to worsen any headaches you may be experiencing.

Under thick comforters, you laid restlessly. As much as it was important to rest, you just couldn’t find a comfortable position. A knock at the door interrupted your struggles.

“Darling? Are you alright?” Sunday opened the door slightly, allowing the light from the hallway to seep in.

Fidgeting in your shared bed, you shook your head no, trying to refrain from straining your sore throat.

“Hm… You can’t sleep?” A nod of your head confirmed his suspicions.

He walked into the room, shutting the door behind him, and taking a seat near your spot on the bed. “Is there anything that I can do to help you?” Sunday hummed in thought, moving a strand of hair away from your heated forehead. You nodded again.

“...Do you want to hear a story?” In different circumstances, you would’ve chuckled at his suggestion, but you wouldn’t mind him telling one if it meant hearing him speak. Nodding with a small smile, you made yourself comfortable.

Sunday looked down at your hand, caressing your palm deep in thought. His wings slightly perked up once he found something to share, looking back up at you.

“During my childhood…”

For the rest of the night, Sunday would recall fond memories of his childhood, some that you’ve heard before and others that were new to you. Nevertheless, hearing his voice calmly recount stories had lulled you to sleep, your grip on his hand growing lax. Sunday noticed you had fallen asleep and his stories slowly came to a stop.

Smiling adoringly at your relaxed figure, he pulled the comforters up a little higher and gave a small kiss on your forehead.

“Goodnight darling, I will be here by your side until you wake. Sweet dreams.”

-----

↻ Once you wake up from your slumber, Sunday would be resting his head on your stomach, wings fluttering every couple of minutes

↻ Eventually, you would fall back asleep, hand resting on his head after running them through his messy strands

↻ Needless to say, with Sunday as your personal caretaker, you would be better in no time

⋘ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇ! ⋙

note - thank you guys for reading! i am so so happy you all are enjoying the work i put out. currently, i am working on a request so stay tuned, not gonna spoil the content! ;)

#writing➠#hsr sunday x reader #sunday x reader #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #fluff #sickfic #comfort fic #i really love birds and used to have budgies so i like adding some of their characteristics to sunday lol

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warmasf · 5 months

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Not snz but just general whump

The idea of someone literally “waking up with a fever” is so sweet to me. Just imagine whumpee at their partners house, having a slight headache and a weird feeling in their throat, but thinking nothing of it, taking a nap with partner and blaming it on being tired. In a few hours, whumpee wakes up to partner placing a cold flannel to their forehead and whispering their name into their ear.

“Hey, you gotta wake up baby, you’re burning up. Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling good?” In a hushed voice.

Whumpee lets their eyes close as partner feels their cheeks and embrace them again. They feel terrible, but maybe waking up sick was the perfect catalyst for the love and care they so desperately desired.

#whumpcember2023 #fever whump #caretaking #sickness #sickfic #imagine #ficlet #domestic fluff #snz thoughts #snzblr #whump writing #fever

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undercover-horn-blog · 5 months

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Caretaking that is casual. Caretaking that's domestic.

You're sick, but it's just a cold. You're exhausted and sleepy, but it's nothing too serious either, so there's no need to worry.

So you're on the couch, sipping tea, trying to read, ending up just lying there, huddled under your blanket, drowsy and halfway to sleep.

Meanwhile, your partner is sitting next to you, also reading. Or playing a video game while you are watching, blinking tiredly but happy to be entertained in this way.

Or it's your friends. They're chatting, talking about their days. Watching a film. All reading. Studying. Playing cards.

And you're just sort of... there. They ignore your sniffling, don't mind when you blow your nose. They don't think you're gross or annoying. Occasionally, somebody might walk by and absent-mindedly pet your head. Squeeze your shoulder. Without even really looking at you.

"You okay?", somebody says, half-amused, when you sneeze forcefully.

"Fine", you mumble, closing your eyes again.

"You want tea?", somebody asks, but it's just an afterthought. They were already on their way to get tea for themselves.

"You warm enough? Want my jumper?", somebody offers. But it's only because they just took it off since they felt too warm.

You're literally just... there. Like a pet. Still part of it even though you can't do much. And you're so happy to simply be around them, feel included. Know you are cared for even though the illness is not that bad. Know you are loved without having to do anything for it.

#sicknario #sickfic #sicknarios #whump #whump writing #caretaking #snzblr #snz kink #snz #snzfic #idk why but this is such a fantasy of mine #and in fiction also casual caretaking is so damn hot to me #feel like i might be in the minority??#but yeah... the casualness... it gets me <3

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whumpingaround · 7 months

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non-human caretaker telling sick/injured whumpee, “you humans are so fragile” <3

that’s it that’s what’s rattling around in my brain rn

#whump #whump prompt #writing #whump tropes #whump scenario #sick whump #sickfic #injury #injury whump

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ufofrommarss · 13 days

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Forgot to share yesterday buttt I wrote something 🤯 short little sickfic of Aziraphale comforting Crowley with a migraine

#good omens #book!omens #book omens #book!aziraphale #book!crowley #good omens book #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic #sickfic #mars art #mars writes #ineffable husbands #consenting bicycle repairmen #air conditioning

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me-writes-prompts · 8 months

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-:Sickfic prompts because I can’t get enough of them:-

(TAG ME WHEN YOU WRITE THESE.)

By @me-writes-prompts

“Hmm, guess which pill you’re taking today?!” “The orange one?” “No! The red and the biggest one! Yay!” *groans loudly*

“You really shouldn’t have finished the whole pint of ice cream. It was -1 degree babe, -1! Do you understand the seriousness of this?” “Uh huh, yeah. And remind me again whose idea it was to go out for ice cream?” *laughs nervously* “I just wanted to cheer you up…”

Getting them all the comforting things that the other one likes, and snuggling it up on their bed to help them get better soon❤️‍🩹

Buying way too many soft pillows because then they wouldn’t miss the weight of their partner lying besides them, but they still do anyway :’)

^^“These are way too many, omg, I’m being squeezed by these pillows, love!” *blushes* “Well I just, you know, thought that since you like to hold on to me while you sleep but we can’t do that right now, I decided to bring you all these.” “Aww, I appreciate it, baby, but would you mind moving some? And even though, I do have these, I will miss your warmth beside me.” (AHHHHHH CRIESSSSS <3333333)

Cooking them their favorite dish and watching them eat it with so much love and affection.

Putting warm cloth on their forehead because the other one has a high fever but refuses to see the doctor.

Reading them a book softly and when they are done, they find their partner already fast asleep.

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peachesofteal · 10 months

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No cause now I’m imagining the moment Ghost and Soap show up at Darling’s apartment and her mind is hazy from the fever and she still doesn’t really trust them so she will not let them take her baby and they have to convince her so that they can take care of both Darling and the baby. And she finally does and then Soap and Ghost are surprisingly good at it and it’s adorable to see two ginormous men cooing over a tiny tiny human. Darling is so torn because they love and want to take care of the both of them but they betrayed her and she doesn’t trust them. Does she let them stay or make them go?????? 😭😭😭

-🥔

Love this. 🥔

18+ Mature themes / baby trap au / takes place after this

Simon's fist is heavy against the door. He knocks so loudly, Johnny swears it rattles his teeth. He knocks again, and again, until they're both exchanging worried looks as they listen to the sound of a baby crying just beyond the door.

The lock clicks, and then the door opens to reveal you on the other side, crying baby in your arms. Your entire body is trembling, and Bee wails against you, little face scrunched up in misery. You both look poorly, and fear eats away at Johnny little by little. What would have happened if you hadn't called? How sick are you? How sick is Bee? What's going on?

They both try not to stare at the baby in your arms. Your baby. Their baby.

Their sick baby, in the arms of her sick mother. Living in this shit flat too far away, alone. With no one to care for them.

"Darling?" Simon whispers softly, and you blink at him. Like you’re confused. Like you’re surprised.

“Hey.” Johnny says, forcing himself to stand and speak casually. “You called us?” Your face shifts a little, nearly scrunching up like Bee’s, and then you shake your head.

“No I… didn’t think, I didn’t t-think… I did?” The words are slow, thick and sticky, and they can practically hear the rattle in your chest from here. You’re really sick. How long have you been sick like this?

Johnny’s about to protest when Simon holds his hands up, open palm and easy.

“Well, we’re here now. Will you let us help?” You shake your head, the refusal adamant, and Johnny swallows his discontent. You need their help. You need them. You called them. Why won’t you let them in?

“You’re sick. You called, said you both ‘ave fevers.” He gestures to the baby against your chest and you cradle her head protectively.

“No.” You croak.

“Look at me,” he pleads. “Look. Look, everything’s okay. We’re here to help you. Please, let us help you.” He holds his phone out, turning the screen towards you, your eyes squinting at the brightness of the screen before focusing on his call log, the incoming call from a blocked number clearly displayed at the top. Something fractures across you, some weight that’s been weighing on you, and you shuffle to the side, opening the view for the of the hallway, and a little kitchen.

Simon leads him across the threshold without a second to lose, and you cough as they slide by you. You stand away from them, warily, still aware but focus slipping as you shudder. He wants to reach out and feel your skin, press the back of his hand to your forehead to feel just how warm you are, the sweat soaked hair at your nape obviously displaying your ill state.

“Alright.” Johnny runs a hand through his hair, and tries not to tug at the roots. “Let’s get you together so we can get you two to a doctor.”

"She ne-needs to go to hospital." you explain, pointing to the half packed backpack with a shaking hand. "But I don't..." Bee cries against you, and you pat her back helplessly, eyes lost as they swim with tears. "I don't feel good, I feel fuzzy, and I c-can't navigate the trains like this."

"Alright. We can-"

"I didn't know what to do." You cry, and Johnny's heart twists in his chest, the sight of you so distraught, eyes glassy with fever, lips dry and cracked. He thinks you probably need to go to hospital too, with the way you're swaying slightly, how your cough sounds, your head drooping forward like it's too heavy for your neck.

“We can help. We can get you both to hospital-“ you cough again, taking care to point your face away from Bee, cutting him off before swiftly shaking your head.

“I don’t need it.”

“Don’t need what?” Simon cuts sharply.

“The hospital. Just-“ your lungs wheeze. “jus’ Bee.” Not bloody likely. You bounce her gently, but your eyes clench shut and you blow out a breath before sticking a hand out to still yourself against the counter.

“Darling, you need a doctor.” Simon counters firmly, and you cover your mouth again, to cough.

You wobble on your feet, swaying slightly before lurching just a little to the left, practically into Johnny who swears in alarm, arm coming around your shoulders to steady you.

“Johnny.” Simon directs, motioning to Bee before coming around to your other side, shifting your weight into him as if you were a rag doll. “Take the baby.” There’s no time for hesitation, for him to be nervous or unsure. There’s only a moment before Bee is nestled in his arms, unhappy face gazing up at him, like she knows.

She’s beautiful, even though she’s upset, and sickly. Still beautiful, like her mum. Perfect, angelic.

Their daughter. He’s holding their daughter, in his arms. Their precious, adorable, sweet child that is every bit of you that he had imagined. Such an incredible thing, born from such an awful decision.

And she’s running a temperature.

High temperatures are bad for babies. Fevers are worse for babies than they are for adults or even older children. The warning from a baby book he read a while ago, what feels like forever ago, blares in his mind.

Your head hangs limply against Simon, and Johnny reaches out to finally try to get a gauge of your temperature. When he makes contact, he grimaces.

“She’s burning up.” You grunt something in reply, but it’s nonsense. “So is the wee one.”

“Okay. We’re going.” He nods to the backpack, and Johnny manages to loop an arm through it while keeping a crying Bee tucked against his chest.

“Shhh, shhh.” He tries in vain to hush her. “‘s alright, little love. We’ve got ya. Mum’s right there, she’s right here.”

There’s a throbbing ache inside Simon’s head. He thinks it’s probably from the way his jaw is clenched so tight, or how his muscles are so tense they feel like they’re going to shred apart while he helps you walk through the front doors of the hospital.

They put you in a wheelchair, a small comfort Simon is grateful for, and wheel you into a room while they follow step by step behind. Bee cries in Johnny’s arm, and he tries to soothe her the best he can, but it’s fruitless.

She wants you. She wants her mum.

A nurse gets you into a gown in the bathroom, and then somewhat settled into a bed with a monitor on your finger before asking Johnny for Bee.

"Where are you taking her?" You protest, distressed when he hands her over, and Simon tenses while the nurse gives you a sympathetic look.

"She needs to go down to peds, just to see the doctor." You shake your head, and cough, the force of it shaking your body. Johnny winces.

"No, she… she needs to stay with me."

"She'll come right back up, when she's done. We'll have a bassinet for her, so she can sleep in here with you."

"N-no she can't. She can't... she has to stay with me." The monitor that seems to be measuring your heart rate picks up, the beeping steadily increasing while your eyes dart around the door wildly, panicked. The nurse opens her mouth to probably explain, again, but Simon sits down by your leg, careful not to touch you, but holding your gaze with a firm look.

"One of us can go with her, darling. Right?" He raises an eyebrow at the nurse, who nods. "See? And we'll stay with her, we'll make sure she's back up here in no time." You look from him to Johnny, who nods seriously, and he watches you loosen a breath from your chest. In the awful yellow light of the hospital, you appear more tired, more sickly than before. It unsettles him, and seeing you distressed physically hurts, because he can’t comfort you, can’t hold you, can’t tell you that you’re alright, that they’re here.

“Alright.” You sniffle weakly, eyes sad and heavy with exhaustion. He exchanges a glance with Johnny, one that says ‘you choose’, and then he’s following Bee and the nurse out the door, while Simon watches you fight sleep.

“You can rest, darling.” He encourages, and you gnaw on your lip while you watch the disappear down the hallway. “I’ll wake you, when she’s back.” It’s an assurance, one he knows you need while your eyelids droop, your sleep imminent.

“Okay.” You whisper, leaning your head back on the pillow, and shifting a bit so you’re tucked just slightly onto your side.

We’ll watch over you, he thinks. We’ll watch over you both.

Bonus: after you and Bee get discharged, the guys take you home and you actually let them help you with Bee and eventually, take care of you too. A little bit.

#peaches asks #🥔 anon #peaches writes #baby trap au #ghost x reader x soap #ghoap x reader #soap x reader x ghost #sickfic

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