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hearts-hunger · 8 months

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i'll be your medicine || sam kiszka x reader

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Summary: They say laughter is the best medicine, but you're pretty sure that's only because they haven't met Sam. | Standalone in the Sunshine Daydream universe

Pairings: Sam x Reader | Genre: fluff, sickfic (migraine), hurt/comfort | Word Count: 3k | Warnings: none! | Title song: “Deep End” by Holly Humberstone

A/N: My very first standalone fic for Sam and Birdie! This fic is a special gift to all the Sunshine Daydream besties. I hope you like it! ♡

“Yeah, man, I don’t know. I think if we add any more freakin’ reverb we might as well trash it.”

You winced a little as you listened to Sam talking on the phone, feeling from the tone of his voice that he must not be in a great mood. You couldn’t exactly tell — he’d been talking to Jake as he came in the door, and they had been talking steadily as Sam started up the handful of household chores he liked to knock out before he settled in for the evening. He was unloading the dishwasher right now, and he seemed to be very impassioned about whatever song they were talking about.

“That’s not going to fix the problem, though,” he said firmly. “The whole tone of the song is riding on that.”

You still couldn’t tell if he was arguing with Jake or just having an overzealous discussion. You didn’t like not knowing; it had always made you uneasy to not be able to read someone’s mood, and that was especially true with Sam. He knew that about you and was usually very good about being straightforward if he was upset, but he’d barely said a word to you since coming home half an hour ago.

As worrying as that was, though, you had more pressing things to worry about. The familiar ache of a budding migraine was becoming less and less easy to ignore, and you felt yourself flinch when the plates Sam put away clattered against each other.

You curled in on yourself on the couch, praying the medicine would kick in before it got too bad. The last thing you wanted was a full-blown migraine with a grouchy boyfriend, if that’s indeed what he was, and you’d rather just take care of it by yourself if you could. Unfortunately, you were beginning to think you’d taken the medicine too late to head it off at the pass. Rosie was curled up next to you, and you tried to relax against her solid warmth and manifest a beautiful migraine-free evening with the power of positive thinking.

It took about five minutes before you gave up that dream. You could feel the pain starting to spread, settling in deep where it usually hit behind your eyes and over the crown of your head. You wanted to ask Sam to get you an ice pack, but you didn’t want make him more annoyed than he already was, and you didn’t feel like you could raise your voice enough to interrupt his phone call anyway.

“Rosie, come get your dinner.”

His voice carried from the kitchen, and you guessed you’d missed him getting off the phone with Jake. You weren’t surprised; it was getting to the point where a bomb could go off and you’d be too distracted with pain to worry about it.

Still, you tried to stay tuned in to Sam; you’d missed him, and you were looking forward to spending time with him now that he was home and off the phone. He called for Rose again, but she didn’t move from her spot beside you. With effort, you sat up and tried to nudge her to go into the kitchen.

She looked up at you and cocked her head, and you knew she wouldn’t get up unless you did. She always knew when you weren’t feeling well, and she liked to stay close and keep an eye on you when you were sick or unhappy.

You sighed. You didn’t want her to feel torn between you and Sam, but you also didn’t have the energy to try and redirect your sweet, protective, somewhat stubborn dog.

“Come on, Rosie,” you said quietly. “Daddy’s calling you.”

You only managed to get her to hop off the couch, and she looked up at you as she sat at your feet. You thought you heard Sam again, but all of a sudden, you couldn’t think about anything but the pain you were in; you sat on the edge of the couch and rested your head against Rose, burying your face in her soft fur, trying to ride the wave of dizziness and pain without bursting into tears.

You felt Rosie’s tail thump against your foot, and you guessed that was in response to Sam coming in from the kitchen.

“Rose,” he said, a touch of exasperation in his voice. “Come on, now. I know you want to be with mama, but it’s time to eat.”

She still didn’t move. You felt the tension in her even as she kept perfectly still for you, and Sam came over to see what the holdup was.

“What’s going on with my girls?” he said, hunkering down be the couch so he was at Rosie’s level. “You two just can’t be separated for even a minute, huh?”

Sam put his hand on your knee, and Rose gave a tentative kiss to the back of his hand.

“Come on, birdie,” he said to you. “You know she won’t go anywhere if she thinks you want her to stay.”

You nodded. You did want her to stay, but you didn’t want to annoy Sam.

“Sorry,” you said, lifting your head. You stroked Rose’s ear. “Go on with daddy.”

She gave the quietest bark you’d ever heard in protest.

“Rosebud, you are being downright contrary,” Sam said, giving her a playfully vigorous few pets. “You just don’t listen to anybody now, is that it?”

He looked up at you with a smile that was reassuring to see. “Has she been like this all day?”

Before you could answer, his expression clouded with alarm.

“Are you crying?” he asked.

You touched a hand to your cheek and felt a few tears. You hadn’t even noticed them.

“Oh, uh... I guess,” you said weakly. “Sorry.”

“What do you mean, sorry?” he said, his voice tight with dismay. “Birdie, honey, what’s wong?”

“Um...” The brave face you’d tried to put on had started to crumble, and even if he was in a bad mood, you needed his help.

“Migraine,” you said in a small voice. “It’s really bad.”

He took a sharp breath. “Okay, baby.” He kept his voice calm for you. “Have you taken any medicine?”

You nodded. “It’s not — ” Your voice caught. “Not really helping.”

“It will in a little bit,” he assured you. “We just have to give it some time to work. Let me go get you an ice pack, okay?”

He left Rosie with you and went back to the kitchen, and you heard him rummaging around for a few moments before he returned.

“Drink some water,” he said, handing you his water bottle. He turned the lights off in the living room, leaving only the light from the kitchen, and knelt in front of you again to hold the ice pack to your temple. “Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere,” you said miserably. Your head was wreathed in pain, but the ice was helping a little.

He studied your face with worry and gentleness. “I’m sorry, birdie. Did it come on all of a sudden?”

Your throat felt tight as you looked at him. “No,” you said quietly.

“No?” he repeated. His brow knit. “You didn’t say anything, sweetheart.”

“I didn’t know if you were angry.” Your voice was wobbly. “I thought if I took some medicine, I wouldn’t have to bother you.”

Even in the dim light, you could plainly read the surprise on his face. “What do you mean?” he asked. “Why would I be angry?”

“I thought you were arguing with Jake,” you admitted. “That maybe you had a bad day at work, and you were still in the middle of it when you got home. And since you didn’t say anything to me when you got here, I thought...” You bit the inside of your cheek. “I didn’t want to make it worse.”

“Oh, honey.” He touched your cheek. “I wasn’t angry. I just got caught up talking to him, but I shouldn’t have been on the phone when I came home. I’m sorry. Thank you for being so patient with me when I’m being stupid.”

That coaxed out a watery laugh, and he gave you a gentle smile.

“I’m really sorry, birdie,” he said sincerely. “You know you can interrupt anything if you need to ask me for help, right? Especially if you’re hurting.”

Your eyes welled with tears, but you didn’t know if it was from the pain or the relief of having Sam with you after missing him all day.

“Thank you,” you said softly.

“No need to thank me, birdie,” he said gently. “I love you, and I want to take care of you.” He switched the ice pack to rest against the opposite temple and brushed the tears from your face.

“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice soft and worried. “Does it hurt that bad?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted.

He hummed. “Yeah. Just everything all together, huh?”

You nodded. “I missed you.”

“Aw, birdie.” He kissed your face when you hugged him, holding you close for a moment. “I missed you too. I’m sorry you don’t feel good.”

He ran a hand over Rosie’s head, and she wagged her tail at finally being included after sitting patiently at your side.

“And you were just looking after mama, weren’t you, sweet girl?” he said. He gently scuffed his hand up and down her side. “You’re a good girl, Rosie.”

She rested her chin on your knee again, and Sam smiled.

“Yeah, you love your mama. I know.” He patted the couch cushion. “Come up here and lay with her.”

She did obey him that time, and you curled up with her as Sam spread a soft blanket over you.

“What can I do, birdie?” he asked, brushing your hair back from your face.

You tried to think of what had helped last time you got a migraine this bad. You knew there wasn’t much for it but to wait until the medicine kicked in, but surely there was something you could do.

“I don’t know,” you said pitifully, knowing it wasn’t helpful.

“What about some coke?” he offered. “I think the caffeine helps, right?”

You nodded. “I don’t think we have any here, though.”

Sam had already pulled out his phone. “Good thing we live in the modern age. Do you want anything to eat?”

“I don’t think so. Well, maybe. I don’t know.” You groaned. “I hate this. I can’t even think straight.”

“So you’re thinking about Anne Hathaway? Sounds like a pretty good migraine to me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re so dumb.”

He smiled. “Yeah, but I made you laugh, and you know what they say about laughter being the best medicine.”

You tipped your face up towards him, and he leaned down to give you a gentle kiss. You felt an incredible relief to be with Sam, to have him making dumb jokes for you, to know that you could depend on him and rest completely in his care for you. The tension you’d carried since he’d come home gave way to the familiar comfort of simply being with him, and it made all the difference.

“So, a large coke... extra ice, yeah?” he asked.

“Yes please.” You hid your face behind the blanket and pressing the ice pack to your forehead. “I wish this medicine would be the best medicine. That would be great.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said, a little distracted as he placed your order. “Listen, I’m just going to get you something to eat, and you can decide later if you want it. Okay?”

“Uh-huh.”

He gave a sympathetic chuckle. “My poor birdie.” He pocketed his phone. “Do you want to watch a movie to take your mind off it? Or will the sound and the light make it worse?”

“I think I just want to lay here in the dark for a while, if that’s okay.”

“That’s perfectly fine, sweetheart.”

“Can you sit with me?”

“Of course.”

With a little maneuvering, all three of you found room on the couch; you lay with your head in Sam’s lap, and Rosie was curled up at your feet.

“Can I put the ice pack on the other side?” you asked, feeling a little sheepish.

“Oh, sure,” he said easily, doing it for you and putting the ice pack between your head and his lap. “You know, I was just thinking I wanted a nice ice pack to the crotch. It’s refreshing, really.”

You laughed. “Thanks. Let me know if you get a little too frosty.”

He leaned his head back and absently played with your hair, breathing a tired sigh. “This is nice, actually. We should lay in the dark more often.”

“Yeah, it is nice.” You wished you weren’t in pain, but other than that, it was nice. “So what were you not-arguing with Jake about?”

He hummed. “Well, that’s kind of a long, involved story.”

You closed your eyes and relaxed against him. “I like long, involved stories. Tell me.”

He did, and it was soothing to listen to him as he wove you a tale of brotherly bickering and artistic decision-making. By the time your food arrived, you’d managed to follow only half of the narrative twists and turns, but the sound of his voice had worked its magic.

“There’s your coke, birdie,” he said quietly, easing you up so he could get off the couch. “Be right back.”

He came back in with bags of takeout, and you found you were feeling well enough to sit up and take your drink when he offered it to you.

“Feeling better, baby?” he asked.

“A little,” you said. You took a long drink. “Thanks for getting this.”

“Sure. I hope it helps.” He set the bags on the coffee table. “Are you hungry?”

You thought about it. You still felt achy and woozy, but your appetite had returned somewhat.

“Did you get any fries?” you asked.

The corner of his mouth tipped up. “Yep.”

The three of you got settled again, and Rosie took a few minutes from her vigil to have her dinner; you and Sam started a documentary about the making of Friday the 13th.

“I still don’t know why you like to watch this documentary when you won’t watch the movie,” Sam said. “Makes no sense, birdie.”

You laughed. “The movie’s scary!” you said. “And lakehouses are supposed to be about romance, not murder.”

He gave you a cocky smirk. “You’d know all about lakehouse romance, wouldn’t you?”

You blushed. The two of you had just celebrated your anniversary a few weeks ago; you’d gone up to stay at the same cabin where you’d fallen in love, and Sam had certainly pulled out all the stops to make it romantic in every sense of the word.

He picked up your ice pack and touched it to your cheek. “Here, birdie. Your cheeks are all red.”

You laughed and pushed it back towards him. “You’re awful.”

He kissed your cheek to soothe the icy sting. “You’re beautiful.”

You finally felt the medicine start to work as you had dinner, and Rosie came back with her chewy bone to keep her occupied as she sat next to you. Sam cleaned up when you were done, and when he came back to the couch, he asked if you wanted him to braid your hair.

“I just thought it might help,” he said. “But you look like you’re feeling better, actually.”

“I am,” you said. Between the medicine and Sam’s ministrations, you had started to feel much better. “But I would love it if you braided my hair.”

He smiled. “Say no more, my love.”

You sat on the floor between his legs, and from the first moment his fingers started to gently untangle your hair, you were in heaven. He took his time, lightly scratching your scalp, rubbing circles along your temples and behind your ears, gathering your hair just to brush his fingers through it in a soothing, repetitive motion.

“This is some braid,” you mumbled, content and starting to feel sleepy now that the pain had subsided.

He chuckled. “Does it feel good, birdie?”

You hummed in agreement. “Thank you.”

He kissed the crown of your head. “You’re welcome.”

He finally did put your hair in a simple braid, and you rested your head against his knee when he was done.

“I decided something,” you said.

“Oh yeah?” He traced his fingers over your jaw. “What’s that?”

You wrapped your arms around his leg. “I think you’re the best medicine.”

“Sweet birdie,” he said gently, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m glad I could help, honey. And I’m really glad you’re feeling better.”

He tugged lightly on your braid. “But I can tell you’re sleepy, and I don’t think you want to sleep on the floor.”

Reluctantly, you got up from your spot and joined him again on the couch. You snuggled up to him as he leaned against the arm of the couch, and he tried to pull the blanket over the two of you.

“Rosie,” he said. “You’re on mama’s blanket.”

He pulled it again, gently, just enough to tell her to move. She hopped down from the couch and then hopped right back up, tucking herself by your feet once you and Sam were settled.

“There we go,” Sam said, putting his arm around you. “Sammy and birdie and Rosie, all snuggled up.”

You toyed with his necklace as he put on another movie, knowing you’d be asleep before it was five minutes in.

“Just push me off when you want to get up,” you said. You knew he wasn’t ready for bed yet and didn’t want him to feel like he had to stay for your sake after you’d fallen asleep.

He laughed, and you loved the sound of it all rumbly and warm in his chest.

“I don’t think I’ll just push you off, birdie,” he said. “But thanks. I’ll keep that option in mind.”

You cuddled close. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“You’re very welcome,” he said gently. He ran his hand up and down your back, easing the last of your pain until it faded completely. “I love you, birdie.”

You gave a sleepy, contented sigh as you fell asleep. “I love you too.”

sam taglist: @lil-twilight-glow @ageoffleeet

gvf taglist:@malany-gvf@spark-my-nature@eearevee@madneedshelp@demonrat444@josh-iamyour-mama @honeyandsweettae @mydarlingdanny@gretavandann@sacredjake@myleftsock@joshskittytickler21@hellowgoodbye@watchingovergvf2@fearfulspirit@mywaysoon@carbondancingthroughtime@caprisunsister @eraofstardustchords @sacredthefran@shesawomaninadream @serendipiti @demonrat444@wildflowerxx-x@tearsofdanny @iluvjoshkiszka @jordie-gvf-admin@demolitionndann @hi-hi-hello11 @wildbluesorbit @nessie-glorpa @laneygvf

@gvfrry@ohhey1293@the-chaotic-cow@mountain-in-springtime@xserenax-13@stardustjtk @brooke-gvf@weightofdreams-gvf@jakeydoesit@gretasmokerising@hayley1623@doodle417@finestoflines@brokenbellz@bowievanfleet@s0livagant@strugglingtodoshit@s-u-t@kay-jordan@gretavanfleas@jakeyboiiiiiii@gretavansteph@gretavanbitches@myownparadise96@luverleaver@weightofdreamz@greatervanfleet@maedesculpaeusoubi@jakekiszkasbestie@pineapple-photographer@baguettejuliette@alexxavicry@levi-wants-ur-bones@carlybubs@cowboysamkiszka@dannyandthekiszkas@jordierama@slutforsteve@starshine-wagner@quartzzzzzzz@edgeofdreams@writingcold @lostoverseer @catharu77 @mackalah@jaketlove @haileygvf @blacksoul-27 @ur-m0ms-blog

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#sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka fanfiction #sam x birdie #sunshine daydream series #sam kiszka fluff #greta van fleet fanfiction #gvf fanfiction #gvf fluff #maddie writes stuff!

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