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hjizngs · 5 months

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sick days | lee minho

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hi! this is my first ever post on here,, hehe. constructive criticism is welcomed, hate is not.

cw: sick reader, petnames, slight cursing, slightly suggestive (??), angstyish oops, mostly fluff! just minho being the cutest bf :3

another hacking cough forces itself from your throat, leaving behind a painful sting and the inability to swallow. a frustrated groan emits you, followed by disgruntled sniffle. you hate being sick.

sore throats, gross coughs, painful headaches, and a stuffed nose were all a recipe for disaster — especially today. you and minho had planned out the perfect date; a picnic, stroll in the park, and finally a movie. you had looked forward to it all week, barely getting through. only the promise of seeing your boyfriend kept you going.

you turn over on your side, the gentle movement sending another round of pain signals ringing in your head. tears sprung to the corners of your swollen eyes. you were devastated at having to miss your date. blearily, you swung a hand over to the bedside table, blindly searching for your phone.

once found, you swiped over to minho’s contact. pressing the call button, you slumped back onto your pillow defeatedly.

“jagi?” came the sweet voice of your boyfriend. “what’s up?”

an exhausted whimper answers him. “min.. min i’m sorry” is all you can utter.

his voice instantly is filled with concern. “what’s my love sorry for, hm? is everything okay?”

“no, m’sorry min.. i feel so bad. my head hurts, and i puked earlier, and it —“ another pained sound exits you. “— it hurts.”

something shuffles over the phone, and your boyfriend is quick to reply. “oh, my poor jagi. i’m on my way, don’t worry.”

you furrow your brows. “wh-what? no no you don’t have to do that, min!”

“see you in five.”

your eyes rolled as your boyfriend hung up on you a abruptly (like he always does — and it never fails to surprise you). coughing again, you accept that there’s nothing you can do to stop him from coming over. you scan your messy room and groan. you’re sick! you don’t want him to see you like this!

you swing your legs over to the side of your bed, only pausing when a sneeze erupts from your pinkened nose. you settle your socked feet on the floor and attempt to rise to your feet.

you sway, blinking harshly as to try to clear the black spots plaguing your vision. maybe getting up wasn’t the best idea..? oh well.

slowly, you begin to shuffle around your room, picking up discarded clothes and trying to round up any embarrassing wrappers or trash. you’re halfway through folding another t-shirt when your body flashes hot, then cold. the pounding in your head increases tenfold and you drop the shirt in favor of clutching your temples. spots engulf your sight and you sink to your knees, not even attempting to make it to the bed.

you’re sweating. but the ceiling fan above only makes you shiver, goosebumps lining your arms. everything is too bright, and you squint from a combination of a headache and the glaring overhead light that suddenly feels like a thousand suns beating down on you.

another whimper crawls out of your dry throat. the only thing your fever-weakened mind can think is minho. where is minho? you need him, it hurts it hurts everything hurts —

“jagi?! oh my god, are you okay?” thunderous footsteps make their way to you and you wince at the sudden exclamation.

cold, cool hands press themselves to your trembling body and you sigh in relief. they stroke through your hair, carding through gently. you open one eye to see who they belong to, but clamp it shut immediately, the bright light making your eyelids pulse.

you hear shuffling from the side, and one of the hands leave you. you suppress a whine, but something in your expression must be alarming because the voice coos. “oh, baby, i’m just turning off the light, okay?”

no, it’s not okay. not when those hands are the only thing grounding you, keeping you from melting. however, as promised, the offending light gets shut off, and you hum in appreciation.

the nice hands quickly return to their rightful place in your hair, and you bravely attempt to open your swollen eyes again.

your boyfriend looks down at you gently. “my poor girl. let’s get you back into bed, hm?”

you nod pathetically, letting him lift you up and place you softly on your mattress. you murmur a quiet thanks and he kisses your sweaty forehead in response. he sits on the side of the bed next to you, placing his hand on your leg and rubbing comforting circles into your skin.

“have you eaten at all yet?” he inquires.

you shake your head, “no, not yet. i don’t think i could eat a thing without puking it back up, to be honest.”

minho hums at that, scanning your face. he reaches out and places a small hand on your forehead, feeling out your temperature. he frowns.

“i think we need to check for a fever, honey. you’re very warm.”

he moves to go stand and you pout. “don’t leave, please.”

“i’m just going to grab the thermometer and a glass of water, i’ll be right back, okay?”

“be fast!” you plead.

he cards a hand through your hair. “i’ll be so fast, jagiya.”

it feels like an eternity as minho tries to locate the thermometer from outside your bedroom. you shiver again, pulling the closest fuzzy blanket over you and burrowing into it.

and that’s how he finds you when he returns — a sweaty, sick burrito. you watch as he smiles down at you fondly, pulling back the blanket a little to take a look at you.

“think you can sit up for me? need help?” he asks.

“need help, please,” you respond nasally.

minho aids in positioning you up so you’re leaning against your pillow. he holds out the found thermometer and motions for you to open your mouth.

you oblige and he places the thermometer under your tongue. after a few moments, he pulls it out and looks down on it with a displeased expression — like it personally offended him.

“100.” he states, his brow crinkling. “yeah, you’re not leaving this bed.”

you sigh and slump farther into your blanket. “i’d rather hear that in a different situation.”

minho blinks slowly, fondly. “i’ll ignore that, just because you’re sick.”

you stick out your tongue as he rises from the bed to put away the thermometer. he looks down at you, unimpressed, but with a twinkle of amusement in his catlike eyes. “brat.”

“i’m sick!” you whine, “be nice.”

“i am being nice. so nice, in fact, that i’ll ignore this little attitude —“ he reaches down and pokes your forehead, “— because i know that you feel like shit.”

you roll your eyes when he’s turned and putting the thermometer in some drawer, but deep down you’re very grateful he came over to take care of you. for all his teasing, he really does treasure you. you still feel bad for canceling the date.

in some feverish, dramatic mood change, tears begin to well in the corners of your eyes. they’re hot and uncomfortable, and you sniffle. not only did you cancel the date, you’re acting like a brat instead of thanking minho for looking after you.

“m’sorry,” you croak from your cocoon of blankets.

minho turns around sharply and scans your face quickly. he strides over to the bed and sits beside you. “what?”

“m’sorry!” tears begin to trickle down your face, sticky and unwanted. you reach up to swipe them away.

minho’s hand reaches out, grabbing onto your arm and lightly tugging you into his chest. “silly girl. what are you sorry for?”

“f’making you come over and take care of me and being a brat and not saying thank you!” you rush out, slurring some words.

a chuckle shakes minho’s chest. “oh wow, you’re really out of it, huh?”

“i’m sorry!”

“hey, hey,” his joking manner disappears when a fresh wave of tears erupts from your eyes. “you have nothing to be sorry for. you’re sick. you have a fever, baby. you aren’t being a brat, i’m sorry i called you that when you weren’t feeling well.”

you peek up at him. “you mean it?”

minho doesn’t respond, just pulls you tighter into his chest and kisses the top of your hair. his cool hand rubs on your back soothingly under your shirt. he gently lays back onto your bed, cradling you to his chest.

“try to sleep some of this off. take a nap,” he orders you lightly. “i’ll be right here.”

at his words, you snuggle into him. he reaches to the side and pulls a blanket over the two of you. just before sleep takes it’s hold over you, you look up at him, catching his eye.

“thanks for being here, min. i love you,” you murmur, your eyelids getting heavier and heavier as you begin to succumb to sleep.

the last thing you hear before sinking into feverish dreams is, “anytime, baby. i love you more.”

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yas! ok! first post done, please lmk what u think!!!1 reblogs and likes are appreciated:3

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ilys00ga · 4 months

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BABY, I CARE FOR YOU.

➞ pair: yoongi x f reader

➞ genre: sickfic, best friends to potential lovers (who knows?), fluffy fluff, yoongi being the best bff you could ever ask for, I miss him so much.

➞ synopsis: where the reader is sick and her bff is always there for the rescue.

➞ warnings: none.

➞ A/N: another request by @parkjennykim, who used 'she/her' pronouns in the req so I used those accordingly. This was fun to write. I hope you enjoy it :)

PS. readers, remember my reqs are still open for now. you can go ahead and send some (read pinned post if u haven't yet, tho).

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

the bag you've been carrying all day slipped off of your shoulder as soon as you pushed the door to your apartment open and stepped in. not bothering to pick it up, you remove your shoes and leave them somewhere near the entrance and take a deep breath through the nose.

your body was having a party that day. muscles and head aching like crazy, throat bleeding as it burned with a ticklish feeling that lingered for hours and bringing out coughing fits from your chest every few minutes, legs barely holding you up and an annoyingly runny nose, you're sure the skin around it is red and raw from how you've been rubbing at it with tissues all day. not to forget the fact that you were freezing to death even though the heaters were doing their work in the flat more than enough.

“Mom is finally home!” A loud squeal came rushing from down the hall. You raised your head with some difficulty to see your best friend approaching you with your cat, Leo, in his arms and a wide smile adorning his face. He stopped in his tracks and frowned, however, as soon as he noticed your scowling expression and bloodshot eyes.

“Woah, you look so not happy right now.” he commented.

“What are you doing here, Yoongi?” Though your expression softened as you spoke, your voice still held a wince the more uncomfortable the light bulb became to your squinted eyes.

“You didn’t answer my calls or even texts, so I just decided to come over myself.” he explained, then eyed you up with knitted brows and a barely noticeable pout on his cherry red lips, “are you okay?”

“My head and body are killing me. I’m going to sleep. You can stay as much as you like, just feed Leo before you leave, plea-." A couple of sneezes cut your sentence off. The action stabbed daggers into your already throbbing brain; so painful that your eyes teared up and you squeezed your hands around your skull to try and control the waves of shock that hit you all of a sudden.

“Wait,” Yoongi put Leo on the floor and walked towards you. the back of his hand felt like a soft, warm blanket wrapped up around your body on a cold, snowy night as it rested on your forehead, so you closed your eyes and hummed in satisfaction.

“You’re so hot.” he grimaced at the heat that bit his skin, and when he noticed how you smirked mischievously with your eyes still closed shut, he whined, “don’t!”

“I’m not doing anything!” Your tongue felt numb as you blinked your eyes open and smiled at him.

“Come, you need to take a warm bath and eat something.” his fingers gently wrapped around your wrist, slowly pulling towards the bathroom.

"Your hands are always warm. I like that a lot." you whispered, absent-mindedly eying the way he was soothingly caressing the skin under his thumb.

“Are you going to bathe me?” his cheeks warmed up at the question you blurted so suddenly, but the way you were slurring your words implied that none of the things you were rambling about were intentional. the fever really took its toll on your brain.

“Go do your thing, and I'm going to make you something warm to eat.” he bit his lower lip and pointed towards the bathroom, leaving to start doing his task in the kitchen.

"The walls are spinning around me!" You whimpered as soon as you entered your room, wet hair wrapped up in a towel, a fluffy, warm hoodie swallowing your torso and a pair of sweatpants. Yoongi, who was sitting on your bed, immediately fixed his gaze on you with a small smile. you could spot your favorite pair of socks laying beside him on the bed sheets, and your heart skipped a beat or two at how thoughtful that small gesture alone was.

"I'm sorry. let me just blow dry your hair, and then you can eat." he apologized, pointing at the hair dryer he'd been holding in his hand and patting the empty spot next to him.

"You're spoiling me today." You complained, but still obediently sat besides your sweet friend.

"You're sick, I'm taking care of you." he replied matter-of-factly.

you murmured a small 'thank you' before he gently started taking the wet towel off your head, then started carefully drying your hair.

When you stepped into the kitchen, you found Yoongi setting plates, along with utensils on the small table located by the wall. his eyes landed on you as soon as your painful-sounding coughs announced your arrival.

“Feeling any better?” his brows rose worriedly, and his gaze followed your hunched up body as it walked and took a seat.

“kind of. thanks for the food.” You offered a genuine smile despite all the tiredness washing over your limbs. he nodded knowingly.

“Here, take these when you finish eating.” He put a tablet right next to your bowl and sat across from you, digging into his own plate as well.

After a while, you decided to break the comfortable silence when your eyes fell upon the clock hanging just above the door frame, “You have work tomorrow, and it’s getting late. you should probably go.”

“I know you’re a jackass and you’d sleep on an empty stomach if you wanted to, even when you’re sick.” he muttered so casually it almost made you giggle if it weren't for the guilt of forcing him to stay taking over your mind.

“That’s not right!” You started to argue but hissed when your head reminded you that it still got a tornado going on inside of it as it throbbed even harder.

“Stop talking and eat!” he scolded, and you wordlessly complied.

"I'm not leaving until you're tucked into bed and fast asleep," he added in a stern tone after a small pause, making you grin weakly and stuff your face with another spoonful of soup.

"Are you feeling any better?" Once again, yoongi asked after pulling the duvet over your chin. he chose to sit right by your side, on the floor and with his back facing you.

you replied with a muffled hum, barely audible as you were busy gratefully enjoying the softness of your comforter with closed eyes. it felt as though it had some kind of magic that absorbed all the aching tension in your body, allowing you to finally heave a sigh in relief after such a long, tiring day.

"Where's Leo?" you asked.

"probably napping somewhere after his meal."

"You fed him?"

"Of course I did. I'm not like you, forgetting my cat as soon as I get sick." he smirked teasingly.

"I didn't! I knew you were gonna stay, and I trusted you, like I always do." Your voice was only getting weaker and weaker, sleepy as you fought a battle against sleep just to answer your cheeky best friend.

Yoongi only smiled, glancing at you with tinted cheeks. he allowed his gaze to linger just a tad bit more on your closed eyes, nose poking out above the fuzzy blanket and shoulders ever so faintly shivering as the fever still clung onto you. he found the sight so endearing, he chuckled quietly and sighed, "Good to know you do."

"'m so 'ired." You slurred.

"Sleep, darling. I'm right here." was the last thing you heard him say ever so gently before surrendering your powers and drifting into a deep slumber.

Yoongi kept observing as you slept for a while before standing up. He bent down to press one soft kiss on your cheek and another one on your forehead, then walked out of the room with extra efforts not to make any noise and disturb your peaceful night when it had just started.

"Mom is sleeping. Let's hang out in the living room, hmm?" He picked up the fluffy cat that came running towards him as soon as he saw the door opening and kissed his head. heading towards the living room with a small smile on his face.

#yoongi #yoongi scenarios #yoongi drabble #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #bts scenarios #bts yoongi #bts #bts imagines #bts fic #sickfic #friends to lovers #maybe not #hahaha #who knows #suga fluff #bts fluff #fluff

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mossycobblestonewrites · 18 days

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DC X DP PROMPT #24

Danny has the ghost flu. It's not contagious. So what's the harm in answering a summons from his favorite group of heroes in the sky? Coddling. They knew IMMEDIATELY that something was up and now they aren't leaving Danny alone. On the plus side, he's in space! On the downside, his powers are acting up with the ghost flu and they just aren't letting him go home.

#dc x dp #dpxdc #danny gets summoned to the watchtown #summoning is their form of communication with the ghost kid #danny is sick through his ghost side #unrelated to the given scenario but reveal gone good in this one #the jl: the ghost kid is sick #we should help him #danny: let me go heathens #listen #it doesnt make much sense but i am also very sick rn #actually give me sickfic recs #let me live vicariously through my blorbos

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radioroxx · 2 months

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in. clover lives aus or aus where they choose to live in the underground whatnot. i think more ppl should play with the idea that their friends know Jackshit About Humans. please and thanks

#undertale yellow #starlo thought humans were fireproof. whos gonna tell him #martlet was only able to recognize them for their hat #im sure they know SOME but. it would be sooo fucking funny if that knowledge is a limited as possible #monsters arent made of flesh n blood. do they know how to deal with scraps n bruises #do they know human sleep schedules. do they know about human health and illness. is anyone gonna tell starlo that clovers not fireproof #ive always been obsessed with scenarios of non-humans learning human facts jfkf things that r obvious to. us ofc #its always silly #anyway all that to say i have yet to see ONE sickfic <- disappointed #also im procrastinating doing research for school #guuuuyyyys if you loved me you talk to me while im doing researches. it helps i prommy

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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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feverwhump · 1 year

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B has a thermometer that lights up yellow for a low grade fever, green for no fever, and red for a high fever. When they get home feeling achy, shivery, and hot, they take their own temperature, which lights up yellow. 100.1 degrees, nothing too serious, but still basically a fever. B lethargically slithers into bed, still wearing their work clothes, and falls asleep nearly instantly. B wakes up 4 hours later to A caressing their bright red cheeks. “Poor baby, you look so miserable. Let me get the thermometer.” B’s eyeballs burn when they blink, and they peel off their all too hot sweater as quickly as their stuff body can muster. When A returns, they tenderly scan B’s forehead with the thermometer, and when the device beeps rapidly, B doesn’t even need to see the bright red light reflecting onto A’s concerned face to know the results.

#fever #fever whump #sicknario #sickfic scenarios #whump #sick whump #whump ideas #caretaker #fever whump will always be top tier #whumpee #whump prompt #sickfic

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moonstruckme · 8 months

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Hey love! How are you? I hope everything is well. Could I request a fluffy fic where the reader is sick and the marauders dote all over her? I have been sick the past couple of days with high fever and I am in desperate need to be taken care of lol. It doesnt matter if it is a poly!marauders or one of the boys. You can choose whichever you are in the mood for. Thanks in advance <3

Hi sweetheart, I'm good, thanks! I'm sorry to hear you're unwell :( Soooooo relatable, basically all I do when I'm sick is fantasize about someone taking care of me. I've been dying to write a roomate!James fic so I took this in that direction, hope that's okay. Thank you for requesting and I hope you feel better soon lovely!

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

James listens as the door to your room opens and closes again, his unease mounting.

You’re typically quiet, but lately you’ve been quieter than usual. Normally, James can count on at least seeing you in passing, or hearing your comings and goings signaled by the ridiculously harsh creaking of the front door. You sometimes play soft music while you cook, or have a friend over to chat in your room, or listen to a podcast while you get ready in the morning.

For the last few days, there’s been none of that. If it weren’t for the occasional sound of your bedroom door and your key still on its hook in the entryway, James might think you’d moved out.

He’s been walking past your door more often today, curious and a bit concerned at what’s keeping you confined in there. Though he knows he should be more ashamed of his eavesdropping, who else is responsible for making sure you’re okay if not your roommate? Anyway, if one day he finds you dead in your bedroom, “I was trying to mind my own business” isn’t going to make a very good excuse.

When he goes by on his fourth unnecessary trip to the kitchen that afternoon, James is stopped by the startling noise of rapid-fire sneezes from behind your closed door. He’s knocking before he can second-guess himself. “Hey, you alright in there?”

There’s a great snuffling sound, and then, “Yeah, thanks,” your voice muffled.

James hesitates. He’s not sure what your definition of “alright” might be, but he doesn’t feel right going about his day when you’ve locked yourself away and are acting so strange. “Can I come in?”

“No.”

Well, that’s about as much confirmation that you’re not alright as he needs. “Are you decent?”

“I—yeah, but James—”

He cracks the door, sticking his head in just as you dive beneath the covers of your bed. The floor is covered in tissues and wrappers of some sort, dirty dishes stacked on your desk. The room actually smells like sickness, likely a result of your being in here without opening a door or window for days.

“James, please go.” Your voice is muffled by the covers, but now James can hear how congested it sounds. “I don’t want to get you sick.”

“We’re roommates, love,” he says, taking a few tentative steps toward you. “Whatever you have, I’m gonna get it eventually.”

You sneeze, your form tensing under the covers. “Not if I stay in here and you stay out there,” you insist nasally.

James crouches by your bed, careful to avoid the tissues and what he now sees are cough drop wrappers. He tugs at your sheets until you release them, pulling them down to reveal your very flushed, very displeased face. James can’t help it; his eyebrows come together and his bottom lip juts out in pity, and your glare intensifies.

Of course, it’s hard to appear very intimidating when your nose is twitching as you fight off another sneeze. After a moment you give in, pressing a tissue under your nose as your shoulders hitch. James winces in sympathy.

“How long have you been like this?” he asks, taking advantage of your distraction to touch the back of his hand to your forehead. He’s not surprised to find it warm, but the intensity of the heat that meets his hand has him inhaling sharply. He presses his palm to your cheek to be sure, but it’s the same. “Merlin, you’re burning up.”

“S’not that bad,” you say, though your next sniffle undermines the claim.

James brushes a sweaty strand of hair from your forehead, worrying his lip. “Seems pretty bad, love. I think we ought to get you to a doctor. You shouldn’t be this warm.”

You’re shaking your head before he’s finished speaking. “James, no. I want to stay here, at home.” You pull your blankets closer about your shoulders protectively. “I don’t want to sit in some freezing waiting room for hours just so they can tell me I have a cold.”

James looks at you for a moment. Your clammy forehead, your poor pinkened nose. A tiny shiver takes you, making you burrow under the blankets until just your pleading eyes are peeking out at him, and that’s what softens him to your cause. “Alright,” he sighs, “but then you need to let me take care of you.”

“But—”

“I don’t care about getting sick,” he cuts you off, leveling you with his sternest look. It’s not very well-practiced, but it does the trick, and you settle down. “You let me help, or I’ll take you to someone who will.”

You look resentful at being given an ultimatum, but nod.

“Great.” James grins, his usual affability returned. “Now when was the last time you ate?”

From that moment on, you’re on strict bed rest. James cancels his plans with Remus and Sirius for that night, both of them sending wishes that you start to feel better soon, and a call to his mum grants him access to her recipe for “get well soup.” You don’t have an appetite, but James coaxes you into eating a few spoonfuls, and the warm sensation in your throat proves too soothing to let a silly thing like appetite prevent you from finishing the bowl. James cleans your room as you eat, ignoring your protests and embarrassed groaning as he puts your tissues and wrappers into a bin, placing it beside your bed for easier access when you need it. Then, he gives you a steaming bowl of water, making you sit with a towel over your head in your own personal sauna. You complain about feeling disgusting as your sinuses empty themselves out, but admit to breathing a bit easier once it’s done. Soon you’re feeling well enough to sit up, propping yourself up on a few pillows with a full stomach and slightly clearer nasal passages while James takes your temperature with the thermometer he’d run to get from the corner store.

“Can’t believe we didn’t have one of these,” he mutters as he holds it in your ear. “One of us was bound to get ill eventually, it’s a miracle it’s taken this long.” You hum, your eyes trained on the inside of James’ forearm. It hasn’t escaped his notice that you’ve been looking at him more today than you ever have before; he supposes he owes that to the glaze of fever he can still detect in your eyes. James would never embarrass you by mentioning it, but the warmth of your gaze is nice, and he’s glad you’re not sharp enough at the moment to notice he’s as flushed as you. The thermometer beeps, and he pulls away, the tension in his brow relaxing a bit as he reads the number. “Well, it’s not nothing, but it seems lower than earlier.” He feels at your forehead again, nodding to himself. “Yeah, definitely lower.” James leaves his hand on your face a tenth of a second too long, and your eyes raise to his.

“That’s good,” you say, giving him a small smile. He returns it heartily. “I feel better, thanks.”

“Yeah?” he asks, his smile falling away when you give a small sneeze and then wince. “You sure, love? Is your head still hurting you?”

“It’s not as bad,” you sniffle, grabbing a tissue to wipe your nose. “I really think all this is helping, James, thank you. Sorry you have to be around me when I’m so gross.”

“You’re not gross, you’re lovely,” he says dismissively, moving the box of tissues closer to you when you reach for it again. “You’re incapable of being anything but lovely.”

You actually snort, the sound loud and wet. “Yeah, okay. Whatever you say.”

“I do say,” James insists. “And I’m the only one here not delirious with fever, so I think that makes mine the final opinion.”

Your cheeks get impossibly pinker, almost matching the hue of your nose, but your smile rivals James’ own. “Well, anyway, thanks for taking care of me. I really appreciate it.”

James doesn’t bother to pretend he’s feeling for a fever this time, placing a hand on your cheek and rubbing at the skin under your eye affectionately. He thinks his heart actually turns to mush when you lean into the touch. “No thanks necessary, sweetheart. Happy to do it any time.”

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spinzolliii · 30 days

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Whumpee being unable to lie down comfortably for whatever reason. Maybe they’re traveling or are wounded in a way that doesn’t allow them to recline. Maybe they have a lung infection that requires them to sit upright.

Imagine Caretaker sitting beside them with a folded rag or cushion on their shoulder that they let Whumpee rest their head on. Whumpee is finally able to fall asleep leaning against Caretaker.

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bestwhumptropes · 28 days

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a character who doesn't know they're about to pass out becaue they've never done it before. rather than saying "I feel faint" or something, they say "I feel a little weird." they only sit because another character points out that they look pale and tells them to sit or lie down.

#whump #whump tropes #whump prompts #whump scenario #sickfic prompts #sickfic scenario

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jump-in-the-whump · 1 year

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They are still lying on the floor, barely alive. They are shaking and wheezing, all covered in blood and dirt. The only thing that keeps them alive is the sheer determination not to die in that cold, dark, miserable place.

There’s a dull noise and the usually locked door is opened.

They lift their arm, trying to shield their tired eyes from the light coming from the door, but suddenly that light disappears and a shadow looms over them, menacingly.

They gasp as they see a figure on the doorstep, so they try to crawl back, but their arms are too weak. The figure enters the cell, walking slowly towards them.

"No! Please..... p-please.... i-i-i... d-don't.... i-i.... dunno.... w-where..... t-they are.... p-please....." They beg, sobbing. They don’t want to be hurt again, never again.

The figure, cloaked in shadow, crouches down next to them, and passes a hand on their cheek. They close their eyes and flinch, trembling, afraid of the pain that touch is gonna bring.

But no pain comes. This hand seems attentive and caring.

They open their eyes as a soft, quiet voice fills the air. "My god, what have they done to you..."

#whump #whumpee #whumpee x caretaker #caretaker #whumpee caretaker #blood #torture #sick #sickfic #rescue #hurt/comfort #whump prompt #whump community #whump scenario #whump drabble #jump-in-the-writing

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wonijinjin · 8 months

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warm covers, sick cuddles

synopsis: you managed to get sick in the summer, what would be better than your dear boyfriend comforting you?

word count: 0.7k | genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship | pairing: wonwoo x gn! reader | warnings: mentions of symptoms of a common cold, wonwoo calls reader ‘sweetheart’

it was early in the morning when wonwoo woke up in your shared bed, the rain from a few hours ago still present on the sidewalks and trees. after sitting up he checked the time on his phone - 6:34 AM - then projected his attention in the direction of the other side of the bed; towards your sleeping form. the crisp morning evident on your skin in the form of goosebumps alarmed him to pull the blanket further above your body, as it had slipped away during the night. he was getting ready to leave the bed to make a surprise breakfast for you, but not without kissing your forehead. his lips touched your skin, and he halted his movements, furrowing his brows. your skin was too warm despite the chilly morning. he brushed away the hair which stuck to your face during your slumber, then placed his hand on your forehead properly, to his dismay sensing the same warmth he hoped was a fluke of his imagination.

when you awoke the sun was already up and shining, the emptiness of the bed next to you making wonwoo’s absence settle into your sleepy brain. you felt shivers run up your spine despite being under multiple layers of covers. just when you thought of getting up a tall figure appeared in the doorway. it was wonwoo, in his hands a fuzzy blanket; the one you bought together and loved the most, holding so many memories of cuddling while watching a movie, or draping it over each other when you waited patiently late into the night to welcome the other home, falling asleep on the couch in the process.

”good morning baby” you said, noticing how your voice sounded hoarse and strained. he left you without an answer, instead walking up to the bed and spreading the fuzzy material on the already existing layers of covers, crouching beside your tired form. “how do you feel sweetheart? you were cold weren’t you?” he asked in a gentle tone.

“how did you know?” you whispered, surprised.

“oh sweetie” he placed the back of his palm on your burning skin again “you are still quite warm, i think you are coming down with something, perhaps a flu. you were shivering when i checked on you, but i thought it was because of how early it was. guess it wasn’t the case judging by your voice and fever.” he stroked your hair gently, the way your face relaxed not going unnoticed by him.

“i don’t feel well wonwoo.” you said with a frown on your face. his eyes softened; he hated seeing you be so unwell. “my poor, sweet sweet baby.” he pouted, worry and care written all over his features. “i will bring you some medicine to help okay?”

“i should’ve expected it, i mean my immune system is not really resistant to the amount of ice cream i eat nowadays.” you joked, the pain in your throat getting stronger.

“i already set up some tea, it is still boiling hot, but when it cools down a bit i will bring it to you. what would you like for breakfast? i didn’t know if you would be up for it, but i made scrambled eggs and toast. i can make something different if that is what you would like.” he smiled, kissing your hairline. you grinned at this; he was so considerate, always taking such good care of you. “it sounds good, thank you.” it could’ve been anything he made for you, you still would’ve said yes. “then just wait here sweetheart, i will bring it to you with the medicine in a moment.” he was getting ready to leave when you grabbed him by the hand. “please, can you stay with me in bed for a bit before that? it can wait.” he kissed your hand and got under the covers, opening his arms, motioning for you to get closer. you landed in his arms, getting sleepier already, the sickness wearing your body out after being awake for such short amount of time. it didn’t take 5 minutes and you were already asleep, being protected by him and the blankets. he looked at your face, kissing your warm cheek, smiling to himself.

“i guess breakfast will be for lunch then.”

#seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #sick!reader #sickfic #seventeen fluff #svt imagines #sick #wonijinjin #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #comfort

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