i made you chicken soup

Sick Starter Sentences...
  • “You’re so pale…”
  • “You’re sick, admit it!”
  • “I think you should sit down.”
  • “Bathroom, now.”
  • “You look like you’re about to pass out.”
  • “You’ve got a fever!”
  • “Why are your hands so sweaty?”
  • “Are you shivering?”
  • “Hey, I got you…”
  • “We have to sweat the fever out of you.”
  • “You have to eat something.”
  • “I made you some chicken soup.”
  • “You’re gonna crash.”
  • “Cover your mouth when you cough!”
  • “Have you slept at all lately?”
  • “Hey, Rudolph.” 
  • “Did you just cough– blood?”
  • “I think we should take you to see a doctor.”
  • “Can you at least vomit with the door closed?”
  • “Here, take your medicine.”
  • “Is there anything I can get from you.”
  • “Let me take care of you.”
  • “You can barely stand!”
  • “Go home and get some rest.”
  • “How long have you been sick?”
CS FF: Man Flu

Summary: It’s Killian and Emma’s first wedding anniversary, but Killian is sick and has no clue what day it is.  To make matters worse, he is driving Emma crazy as she takes care of him.

Rating: PG

Note: So many men are big babies when they get sick (apologies to any men who may be reading this), so I thought the same could be true for our former pirate.  This goes back and forth between Emma and Killian’s POV.  Hope you enjoy it!  ~Steph

…Man Flu: Part 1/1…

~Emma’s POV~

Today is our first wedding anniversary.  This first year of marriage to Killian has been the happiest of my life.  

Minus the last three days, that is.  When I said the vows in sickness and health, I never imagined this.  

I squeeze my eyes closed as the ringing once again fills my ears. Why did I give Killian that damn bell?!  He’s been ringing it incessantly for the last two days.  I thought it would be an improvement over him bellowing my name every five minutes, but I was sorely mistaken.  

Three days ago, Killian came down with a cold. The usual: scratchy throat, cough, runny/stuffy nose.  But you would have thought the man had contracted the plague.  He hasn’t left our bed and complains about every little symptom.  Here’s a man who has lost his hand, been hit by a car, been stabbed, nearly drowned, been tortured, and actually died.  I’m sure in his more than 200 years he’s endured even more than that.  But somehow the common cold brings him to his knees.  

There’s a name for this.  Man flu.  Basically, men act like babies when they become even slightly sick.  Apparently, my brave, strong, resilient pirate isn’t immune to such an affliction.  And now I must also suffer.

The bell rings again, followed by a pitiful moan of “Emma”.

“Coming,” I grumble, as I head up the stairs.

I find him in our bed, the comforter pulled up around his neck.  Tissues are strewn everywhere. His hair is sticking up in all directions and his nose is red.  His blue eyes are watery.

I come to stand before him, hands on my hips.  "You rang?“

"Love, do you think perhaps you could close the curtains?  I’m afraid the sunlight is hurting my sensitive eyes.”

I bite my lip, but nod.  "Sure.“

I walk over to the window and pull the curtains closed.

"Not quite that much.  I enjoy a bit of light.”

I feel my fists clench as I pull the curtains open a little, nearly pulling them off the rod with my vice-like grip.  

“Better?” I ask.

“Perfect,” he says, offering me a weak smile.  "Thank you.“

"Can I get you anything else before I go?” I ask.

“You’re leaving?” he croaks.  

I sigh. “Killian, I’ve been waiting on you for three days. I have a job, you know.  I’m surprised this town hasn’t been destroyed by monsters yet.”

“My apologies for being so much trouble,” he mumbles.

I roll my eyes.  I know what he’s doing and it won’t work.  

“Look, you have your cell phone right there.  If you need me, just call and I’ll be back in no time at all.”

“I don’t want to be a bother,” he mutters. “I’m sure I can fend for myself in my weakened state. After all, I’ve cared for myself most of my life.”

I roll my eyes again and walk over to him, placing a kiss on his lips against my better judgment.  I don’t really want to risk getting sick, but a kiss usually placates him for a bit.

“You’ll be fine.  I told you.  It’s just a cold.”

“I beg to differ.  I feel as if I am on my deathbed.  It must be scurvy.”

“For the thousandth time, it is not scurvy.”

“With all due respect, love, you aren’t a doctor.”

“True, but I do know how to google.”

“What?”

“Look stuff up on the, as you would say, computer box.”

“Oh. Proceed.”

“And you have none of the symptoms of scurvy.  It’s also very rare in modern times, mostly occurring in poor countries due to malnutrition.  What you have is the common cold.”

“There’s hardly anything common about it.  I don’t see why I can’t be given some medicine to cure this infernal disease.”

“Because there’s no cure for the common cold, which, by the way, is not a disease.  You just have to ride it out.  You can relieve the symptoms like we have been doing with over-the-counter drugs, but there’s not much else you can do.”

“I suppose I’ll just suffer then.”

I wait for him to acknowledge our anniversary, but he’s so delirious from the meds and distracted by his constant whining, that I am pretty sure he doesn’t have any idea what day it is.  

I try to hide my disappointment, as I hook my thumb in the direction of the door.  "Ok, I’m going to go now.  Call me if you need me.“

"Goodbye, love,” he says as I exit the room.

Keep reading

Chicken Soup

My friend Anna asked for some Sanvers fluff, and this immediately came into my brain. I have such a clear picture of Alex all sick, and Maggie being all sweet and soft. Here it is :)


“Danvers, hey, Danvers…” Maggie said, pushing at Alex’s shoulder gently in the hopes of shaking her awake. “Alex…” She said, softer this time.

“Maggie, what are you still doing here? You have work…” Alex said sleepily, sitting up slightly in protest of her girlfriend still lying next to her.

“I made you chicken soup.” Maggie said, swiveling around to a sitting position and placing a soft kiss on her girlfriend’s sweaty forehead.

“You don’t like chicken soup.” Alex said, still pretty sleepy.

“But you do, and don’t people eat chicken soup when they’re sick?” Maggie stood up, walking over to Alex’s little kitchenette and picking up the still steaming bowl of soup.

“You don’t have to look after me.” Alex protested, even though the chicken soup did smell really good.

She wasn’t entirely sure if she was going to actually be able to keep it down, but that was a problem for later, not right now.

“You’re my girlfriend Danvers.” Maggie said softly, bringing the soup over to Alex and placing it down on the table beside her bed. “Eat.” Maggie pointed, sitting down on the edge of the bed and putting a hand on Alex’s forehead, checking to see if she was still burning up. She didn’t even need to have her hand there for a second to know she was, there was no question about that.

“You have work Sawyer.” Alex said weakly, snuggling a little closer towards her girlfriend even though she thought she shouldn’t still be here.

“I took the day off.” Maggie picked up the bowl and lifted it over herself, handing it to Alex, trying her best to avoid any spillages.

“Maggie…” Alex sighed, Maggie was National City’s best cop and an asset to stopping crime and and aliens, and everything that goes bump in the night, even if Alex was a little bias.

“Alex, eat, try.” Maggie said softly, putting her arm around Alex’s sweaty back and giving her a little squeeze.

Alex gave in, sitting up a little more and leaning into Maggie’s shoulder. Taking the spoon and lifting it up, a little soup resting in the dip. She sniffed it first, and it absolutely did still smell good. She had a spoonful, and then another, then she put the spoon back into the bowl and made sure to hold onto the bowl firmly so it didn’t tip, even slightly.

“Not bad.” Alex nodded, realising that actually nodding was a huge mistake, since her head felt like it was throbbing, almost as soon as she had done it.

“You’re not the only one who can cook.” Maggie grinned, pulling the blanket up a little further and shuffling herself around a bit.

“I don’t know if grilled cheese counts as cooking.” Alex smiled, taking another spoonful of soup.

“You can make toast.” Maggie grinned, giving Alex another little squeeze.

“Thankyou, for that huge compliment.” Another smile twitched onto Alex’s face as she spoke, the sarcasm running high in her voice because anyone could make toast.

A buzzing sound came from Maggie’s pocket. She reached inside and slipped out her phone, the screen displaying a little box that said ‘timer done’ while the phone carried on vibrating until Maggie touched the ‘OK’ to make it stop.

“Tylenol.” She said, standing up and heading over to the kitchen, reaching into one of Alex’s cupboards and grabbing a glass of water.

Secretly, Alex liked that Maggie had taken the day off work to take care of her when she was sick. She didn’t think that she would admit it, maybe with some pressing, but she did like it. It gave her these warm fuzzy feelings, that felt really nice despite her high fever and practically everything hurting.

dellastreet1933  asked:

Sick fic w/ Nursey and Dex?

Dex doesn’t get sick. He just doesn’t. He also doesn’t nap, because he can’t, and never has.

So when he gets home from class one day in December and crashes on his dorm bed for just a second because he’s so tired – and then wakes up five hours later – he knows he might, possibly, just this once be sick.

He drags himself to practice on Saturday morning, and snaps more at people than he really means to, and then goes right back to his dorm and passes out again. He wakes a few hours later with his head so full of snot he can barely breathe and a headache like he just got checked into the ice. The reason for his wakefulness turns out to be someone knocking on the door.

He staggers to the door, grateful once again that his roommate is mostly absentee, and opens it to find Nursey.

“You okay?” Nursey says, leaning against the door frame with that stupid affected casualness that drives Dex up the wall.

“Yeah, I’b fine,” Dex says, sniffing.

Nursey arches one eyebrow and then shrugs. “Hey it’s chill,” he says. “Don’t get checked again in practice is all.”

And he slouches off, leaving Dex glowering at his retreating back. Dex returns to his bed, bundles up, and goes back to sleep.

He wakes up a few hours later when there’s another knock on the door.

“What?” he demands, wrenching it open.

It’s Nursey again, except this time Nursey is holding a Tupperware that’s full of something that looks like chicken noodle soup, a thermos, and an industrial sized box of Kleenex, on brand.

“What?” he repeats, now genuinely confused rather than irritated.

“Brah, you’re sick,” Nursey says. “I got Bits to make you some chicken soup, and I made you some tea, and I thought you could use the Kleenex.”

Dex realises he must be extra addled based on the way he takes the offerings.

“Why?” he asks, setting the Kleenex on his desk along with the soup and unscrewing the thermos lid. It doesn’t smell like normal mint tea. It’s sweeter somehow. “And why doesn’t this smell right?”

Nursey looks annoyed for just a second. “It’s spearmint, not peppermint.”

Dex takes a sip and decides it’s way better than the mint tea they have back home. “Okay but why?”

“Because we’re lineys,” Nursey says, lifting a shoulder. “Feel better, Dex.”

And he lopes off, leaving Dex staring after him in complete confusion, even while he feels a fond smile start to form on his face.


I am currently accepting mini prompts!

Sick Day

Woo!! Okay, so here’s the first request of the day! This is from the wonderful @firstpunchlove! I hope you feel better, darling!!

Pairing: Seth Rollins x Reader

Summary: Seth comes home from work to find that you’re still sick. So, being the loving and wonderful boyfriend he is, he takes care of you.

Originally posted by thearchitectwwe

You brought your hand to your mouth to cover your cough, groaning when you were done as you fell back against the pillows. You hated being sick…so much. Normally, you would just get hit with it for a day or two and bounce back…but you’re currently on day 5 and it didn’t look like it was ending in your near future.

“Ugh, kill me now…” You mumbled to yourself as you pulled the covers over your head.

“Y/N, I’m home!” Seth called out from the other room. “Babe? You home?” He continued when he got no reply.

“In here.” You replied, coughing again because of your scratchy throat.

It took a few moments, but you heard Seth come into the room.

“Babe?” Seth called out gently this time.

You moved the covers down to greet him.

“Hey.”

Keep reading

Title: Mazto Ball Soup
Pairing: QxReader
Warnings: language 
Word Count: 851
Summary: Reader takes care of Q when he’s sick
Prompt: QxReader. Taking care of Q while he is sick.



Your name: submit What is this?

Y/N walked in Q’s house and pulled the headphones out of her ears, stuffing them and her phone in her pocket. She strolled into the living room and noticed a mountain of tissues on the floor in front of the couch. Bundled up in a dark purple blanket was a pale Q with a red nose. He gave Y/N the biggest puppy dog eyes that she could ever imagine.
“Babe?” He groaned, his voice raspy and nasally at the same time. “I’m sick,” He frowned, adjusting the blanket around him. 

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Dan x Reader - Taking Care of Your Sickness

I woke up feeling discomfort from the moment I opened my eyes. My body felt like it was on fire, while my throat was freezing. I turned over to see my boyfriend, Dan, lying next to me with his face turned to me.
“Good morning, love.” Dan said smiling at me.
“hh-Hi.” I squeaked out, trying to make a sound that sounded like the English language. He was too sleepy and didn’t notice, thank goodness. Today Dan and me were going to just have a nice day out, but I had to catch an illness.
“So have you figured out what we’re going to get up to today?” Dan asked as I coughed, shoot come on y/n, get it together.
“Mmmhmmm.” I said lying, I didn’t even think about what we going to do, I was too exhausted.
“Are you ready then?” He asked excitedly with his big doe brown eyes wide open. Man he’s too adorable, okay y/n suck it up and get ready.
“Yep.” I replied my voice sounding shaky and unsteady, on the verge of breaking because of my sore throat. I literally sounded like a croaked frog.
“y/n?” The boy looked at me with concern, “What’s wrong? Are you not feeling well?” I shook my head down and leaned onto his pillow laying my head below his chin. He wrapped his arms around my neck. “Awww, I’m sorry.”
No y/n, shake it off, you’re going to go and get ready for a fun day with your boyfriend.
“Dan, it’s okay, I’m fine, really.” I said croakily, trying to hide it.
Dan scoffed softly and responded with “Fine, are you? Then why do you sound like a dying frog?” Ugh this kid’s sarcasm, I freaking loved it.
I giggled and let out a small smile. “Dan, seriously I’m okay. I’m gonna go get ready ready.” I said getting up and heading towards the on-suite bathroom.
But as soon I could take more than two steps Dan had grabbed my arm back. My protest wasn’t getting any where with him.
“You’re not going anywhere.” His brows furrowed while I stood pouting as he dragged back over to the bed.
Dan placed his cool hand on my forehead. “y/n, you’re burning up!”
Yes, but I was shivering inside or it felt like that at least.
“You’re not okay.” Dan said sternly with a frown, but I knew there was kindness in it.
“Dan. I’m fine!” I said. No, I yelled. Well I tried to yell, and my voice cracked. Why the heck did I just do that? My throat is bad enough and I just had to do that and my voice somewhat broke.
All Dan did was laugh at me and dragged me back down fully into the bed. I rolled my eyes at him, but allowed him place me back down.
“You’re so stubborn, y/n.”
“I just didn’t want to ruin the day we planned because I got sick and–” But Dan cut me off and put his index finger to my mouth to shush me.
“Shhh, you’ll hurt your voice even more.” What he said was true so I pursed in my lips closed while Dan looked at me lovingly with those chocolate eyes.
“I don’t care about that y/n, I care about you and your well being.” I sunk my head down once again. It’s crazy how much Dan cared about me and I’m crazy in love with him.
“I’m sorry.” I said quietly feeling bad that I messed up our day.
Dan looked slightly annoyed and chuckled. “y/n, it’s not your fault for getting sick.”
He brought my chin up to his face and said “I’m sure you didn’t want to, but things happen.”
Smiling and rubbing my back while assuring me that everything was okay, I nodded and looking into his beautiful olive complexion.
“Now I’m going to be a good boyfriend and take care of you.” Dan said cutely as he kissed my cheek quickly and tucked me back in the duvet. I happily laid back down on my back with his hand gently supporting me back into place.

“Relax y/n, I’m going to take your temperature.” Dan said trying to hide his concern for me.
I didn’t like seeing him nervous, so I tried my best to relax. But I relaxed quite easily because I knew it was in the best hands possible. It was Dan Howell for crying out loud, he was the sweetest and most caring guy ever.
“101 on this side and 99 degrees here. y/n I believe you have a fever.” He shook his head and took a breath out.
“Ugh.” I moaned. “My throat is sore too.”
“You should get some rest, I’m going to go make you food.”
“No.” I got a grip of left wrist and held him back. “I want you to stay with me and cuddle.”
Dan looked down at me with his cute little smile and said, “It will just be a little while and I’ll be back, plus you need to sleep anyways.”
I wanted to cuddle and if that meant doing a puppy dog face, so be it. “I don’t want you
to leave me.” I said in the whiniest voice ever.
“You’re such a baby.” Dan looked at me and I smirked, “I’m sick.” I did a pity cough while Dan just rolled his eyes.
“Fine, one cuddle and you have to try to fall asleep.” I won and got my cuddle after all. Dan arms were wrapped over my body and he was careful to not discomfort me. I fell asleep about 5 minutes after, and then he left the room. Darn his strategy. I really didn’t want Dan to go, but I knew I had to get some rest to feel better.


30 Minutes Later:
I woke up to a lightly hand stroking my face, it was Dan’s.
“Hello beautiful.” There was Dan’s perfect face gazing at me. The duvet was all over the place and the blanket was covering only my neck. What the heck happened in my nap?
“Hi.” I sat up and there he was now holding a tray of stuff, that I’m guessing was for me.
“I made you organic chicken and vegetable soup, and here’s some water. Oh, I’ve got cough drops too, your favorite flavor, and medicine for the fever, unfortunately its orange flavor.” He looked at me with soft and kind eyes promoting me to eat. I saw the orange medicine and thinking about awful artificial flavor, I pretended to gag silently while Dan just looked unamused.
“Thanks. There’s no need for the medicine though.”
“y/n come on, you have to take it to be better.” Dan said.
“Nope, no way. It’s gross.” I said shaking my head in disgust.
“Come on!” His large hands proceeded to me and I saw those piano playing fingers headed to get me, Dan smirked and advanced to tickle me. I began to squirm. “STOP.” HUFFF. PUFF. AH. IT TICKLES. “DAN. AH. I CAN’T BREATHE.”
“Okay fine! Fine! Stop tickling me and I’ll drink it.” I said retrieving my breath.
Dan just laughed at me while I squirted my eyes at him. “That only took 5 seconds.”
I drank the medicine while Dan sat there looking satisfied with himself. Then he handed me the large cup to wash it down. “Here.” I drink it and leave some water still in the tall glass.
“Okay, now you can eat your soup.” Dan said chucking while I did a small little growl at him in slight annoyance. I then ate the delicious soup and it was really soothing. Dan really knows how to cook and make a good soup.
“It tastes amazing Dan.” I said finishing up every drop last drop.
“Good.” He had a big proud smile plastered on his face.
I finished the soup and then popped a cough drop in to help my throat.
Now here I was laying with Dan and watching Netflix.
“Do you feel better?”
“Mmmhmmm. Much better. Thank you for taking care of me Dan.” I replied gripping his hand a bit harder.
“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?” I blushed, I love it when he calls himself my boyfriend.
“Thanks for the being the best boyfriend.”
He winked at me. “Anything for you, y/n.”
“I love you Dan.” I told Dan grinning. I may be sick but this isn’t half bad.
“I love you too y/n.” Dan said sweetly as he gently pulled me closer to him in the blanket, tucking me in before placing a kiss on my forehead.

Feeling Better

A/N: This was requested by anon, you are feeling super sick and Reid comes by and helps you through it and stuff and is super fluffy. I hope this is what you had in mind and I hope you enjoy this, anon.


You have not felt this bad since the time in college when you somehow managed to get pink eye, mono, and strep throat all at the same time. This time you had only come down with one thing, but it did not make it feel any worse. Your immune system was in bad shape. You were overworked and constantly exhausted. You had not been taking very good care of yourself because you were stressed. In an attempt to ignore your problems, you through yourself into your work. It was only a matter of time until you got sick and here you are.

You felt like complete crap as you laid on your soft couch. You should have just gone to bed hours ago but you did not have the energy to do anything of the sort. It was time to take more medicine but, you just could not force yourself to get up. You  lay on the couch, curled up, freezing cold even covered in three blankets, trying to ignore the pain radiating from your head. You attempt to fall asleep but it is fruitless. How can you be so exhausted and in such terrible shape but not able to fall asleep at the same time.

All of a sudden, you here a knock on the door. You know that you should get up or tell the visitor to go away but, when you try to shout at them to go away all that comes out is a groan. The door knob jiggles and your door swings open.

“Y/n?” a familiar voice calls out to you from inside your house. You hear your door shut behind him.

It is Dr. Spencer Reid. He was your closest friend at the BAU and as you got to know him, you quickly developed a major crush on him. You loved everything about him, from his awkward social skills and vast amount of geeky interests, to his lanky limbs and gorgeous golden curls. You found his endless ability to take in knowledge and his boundless mind incredibly endearing. He was unlike anybody else you had ever known, unique in his own perfect way, and you had fallen hard for him. Despite your life-controlling crush on the man that you had entered your home, you continued to sit inert on your house. He would find you in your misery eventually, it was not worth the energy to do anything more.

He came to your side within minutes. He knelt down beside you and he looked at you. You groaned as you opened your eyes. He looked at you, it was apparent in his eyes that he was pained for you. He wanted to help you to be better so badly.

“Hey, y/n.” he spoke softly to you. He gently brushed some hairs away from your face, you closed your eyes at the feel of his soft fingertips sliding across your head. He felt your forehead.

“Y/n, you are burning up.” he whispered to you. You groaned in pain as response. “When did you last take your medicine?” You shrugged, your eyes crushed together, pinching away all possibility of light from reaching your eyes, and burning them. That was the only answer he needed.

Spencer rose from where he had knelt down and wandered into your bathroom, leaving you alone on your couch, cold and shivering. He quickly located the medication that you had been using and took out the prescibed amount. When he returned to you, he brought you the three little pills and a glass of water. He carefully helped lift you into a sitting position and you groaned as you moved, aching all over, your head pounding and numb. He handed you the cure to your pain and you mindlessly through them into your mouth, he tipped the glass of water and you took a small sip, washing down what you had to swallow.

Spencer brought your hand into his. He looked up at you, his eyes shining with empathy, practically mirroring the pain that you felt. He delicately rubbed your back, moved the palm of his hand around in comforting circles. You slowly began to feel a little better, your mind clearing a little more and more.

Eventually, you cleared your throat. “Thanks, Spence.” you croaked out. You smiled gratefully at him.

He smiled back at you. “Are you hungry?” he asked “I made chicken noodle soup and brought you some.” You nodded. Now that you thought about it, food did not sound half bad, especially if Spencer made it.

A sharp shiver splashed through you, and you shook. Even through all of the thick layers that you wore, you were freezing. God, you hated being sick. Spencer noticed your movement and he quickly reached onto the chair adjacent to the couch and grabbed two blankets that were wrapped around the back of it. You do not remember putting those there. He must have brought them from your bedroom when he went to get the medicine. He wrapped both blankets around you tightly. His hand grazed your shoulder and you shivered again but, this time it was not because of your cold. It was because of Spencer. He looked at you, concern stretched in his gaze, his brows furrowed in sympathetic compassion and something that you could not completely perceive.

“Alright, I will be right back.” He left to go and fetch you some soup. You smiled as he left. He was so cute when he was all caring and protective of you. Then it hit you. You realized it. The little thing that had always nagged at you. The emotion that he hid, that you almost saw through the gates of his gaze, the one that you could not quite perceive. It was care, love. You felt your heart swell as you thought of the idea of Spencer liking you, too. You sat on your couch, smiling like an idiot to yourself, until he came back, two bowls of soup in his hands. He carefully handed one to you and watched you as you took your first swallow.

You ate in comfortable silence, both of you thinking of your own things. Then, without any warning or forethought you said, “Do you like me?”

He looked at you curiously. He was stunned by the uncharacteristic outburst. Normally, you would not simply  blurt out your thoughts, but your inhibitions were slowed by the painkillers and medication that Spencer had given you. You looked at him, waiting for his answer.

“W-well of course I like you. You are my best friend.” he stuttered

“Not what I meant.” you say through a mouthful of soup, pointing your spoon at him. “I meant like as in ‘like-like’ because I 'like-like’ you and I think you 'like-like’ me, too.”

He laughed nervously. “That was a lot of 'likes’, y/n”

“You are avoiding the question, Spencer.” you gave him a pointed stare. Even though you were drugged, you were a profiler. You knew when he was evading a question, especially since he was your best friend.

He sighed. “Yeah, I do.” he said quietly “I do 'like-like’ you. I 'like-like’ you a lot.” He smiled at you. You smiled back.

Spencer snuggled closer to you, feeling like he was allowed to do so now that the two of you had both admitted your feelings. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his chest.

You were feeling a lot better now. You soon fell asleep in Spencer’s arms, warm and comfortable. He stayed with you  for the rest of the night. In the morning, despite your rejections to the idea, he insisted on taking the day off himself, and taking care of you.

Yeah, you definitely felt a lot better.

I’ll Always Take Care Of You (Dean x Reader)

               “Come on sweetheart, you don’t need to busy yourself with research just come to bed and we’ll watch Castle on Netflix all day. Im going to get you some medicine and soup, then were gonna curl up together.” Dean said removing the book from your hands and closing it. “But Dean…I’m fine!” you wheezed as you blew your puff red nose. Your cheeks looked like you’d been out in the sun all day and your face and body felt like it was on fire. But research needed to be done and you didn’t want to let Sam down-who was out on a hunt alone-so you decided to help him out.

               Dean had been trying to get you to go sleep and relax in bed since you were still sick after three days. You kept pushing him off and telling him no, but he wasn’t having that anymore. Dean suddenly picked you up bridal style and carried you out of the library. “Dean no…Im….im….” you suddenly sneezed into a tissue, which then caused a fix of coughing to break out. “You were saying?” he asked smirking amused. You groaned and relaxed into him as he put you in bed and covered you up. “Sleep alright?” he whispered kissing your feverish head. You nodded giving in and curling up.

               When you woke, Dean was setting a trey on the nightstand and he smiled at you. “Alright, here’s a cold rag for your head, I want you to take this and then I made some of my very delicious homemade chicken noddle soup for you to enjoy with some hot bread and a cup of hot tea.” He smiled at you as you did as you were told smiling with tired and sick eyes. “Thank you Dean…I love you” he walked around the bed, lying beside you, turning your favorite show on and smiled. “I love you too” he kissed your head and relaxed against the headboard as you nibbled on your food, thankful for the greatest boyfriend ever.

(For gleefinn feel better soon girlie! I love you!!) 

Zion.T - Sick

Originally posted by skinny-redd

Haesol didn’t think the flu would hit him as hard as that. However, it wasn’t very unexpected either since it was the flu season in Korea. He watched it on the news and just the other day, he even reminded you to wear warm clothes. However, he didn’t take care of his own health and that was his punishment. At first, he still dragged himself to the studio although his head was throbbing enormously. He thought it was just a simple cold and he was convinced he would get well soon. Instead, it got worse day by day- to the point he couldn’t leave his own bed anymore. He just laid in bed for several hours without drinking or eating anything, knowing that wasn’t exactly the best way to rapid recovery, but he just couldn’t force himself to get out of his warm and cozy bed.

He thought about calling for backup, but he couldn’t reach Crush and his parents were out of town. The only one that was left was you, his girlfriend. But he couldn’t bring himself to call you. You had enough on your plate even without him bothering you, and you two recently got into a huge fight, to make matters worse. He didn’t know where he was standing and whether he would be able to fix what was broken, but it wasn’t completely his fault either. You both had your fair share of mistakes but pride and stubbornness always got in the way of reconciliation. 

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The signs in a relationship
  • {check your moon and venus signs for this}
  • Aries: "come watch my game this weekend!" *Scores a point and dedicates it to you by pointing you out of the crowd*
  • Taurus: "can we stay in our PJs today and just watch movies? I want to cuddle with you"
  • Gemini: "I have an amazing date planned for us today! I hope you brought your swim suit!" *goes rafting*
  • Cancer: "hi, sweetheart, I heard you were feeling sick today, right? I made you chicken soup...and also some medicine if you wanted...and some more blankets in case you were cold. Do you need some water? I'll be here if you need anything ^_^"
  • Leo: *leaves a whole date outfit (which makes you look amazing btw)and note telling you to get ready for a date at 7pm sharp*
  • Virgo: "Yeah, don't worry, I knew you had a hard day at work/school, so I had dinner made for you, did your laundry and stocked your fridge. Don't worry about anything, leave it to me :)"
  • Libra: *shows up on your doorstep on your anniversary, dressed in formal clothes* I'm here to take you away tonight ;)
  • Scorpio: *comes home with you after a date* *frowns and hugs you tightly* I didn't like how you were looking at that other person back there *stares you in the eyes with both love and intensity* you belong to me, okay?
  • Sagittarius: *shows up randomly at 2am in a car when you are upset about something* hey, hey, get up. I'm taking you away on a road trip!
  • Capricorn: *gives you the one thing that you've always wanted, even if it is super expensive* sorry I've been so distant lately...I was actually doing a couple more shifts at work so that I could get you this gift :) I hope you like it!
  • Aquarius: Who? Oh, them? No, do not worry about them *laughs heartily* you should remember that you are my favourite person, that other person does not attract my attention. But you're pretty cute when you're jealous
  • Pisces: *stares dreamily and lovingly at you as you do something normal* I am so lucky to have you... *whispers* I love you
Sunggyu x reader When you are sick and he takes care of you

Summary: He was very tired after a week of hectic schedules but he still takes care of you

Word count: 1,006

Genre: Fluff


You had been sick for almost a week and with all those constant sneezing and coughing along with severe sore throat, you had no signs of getting better. You hadn’t told Sunggyu that you were sick, with all the schedules he had, he sure didn’t have time taking care of you and as a result he would blame himself. Although you really want someone to take care of you, you didn’t have the heart to tell Sunggyu that you were sick. You didn’t want to add on his stress as he already had too much to stress about. You got away with being sick was because Sunggyu had too much schedule and decided to crash the dorm instead heading back home. If he knew you were sick and didn’t tell him, he would be furious. 

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4

Stiles: I made you chicken soup!

Stuart: Not exactly. He tried to, but it tasted…. well… it tasted like it woudln’t be healthy to eat it-

Stiles: Thanks, Stuart.

Thomas: Whatever, we ordered pizza, so you hae something to eat that doesn’t taste like-

Stuart: Like rotten-

Stiles: Stuart! 

If you want to request an Imagine, feel free to do that! :] (Request here!)

But there are so many awesome possibilities for Les Amis & Co. friendships that people don’t talk about often enough so yes, have some of my headcanons here.

Courfeyrac and Joly. Courfeyrac and Joly having sleepovers wearing the brightest and most ridiculously patterned pyjamas, watching videos of cats the whole night long that they then spend the next days showing all of their friends.

Jehan and Combeferre. Jehan and Combeferre being the biggest nerds together talking about things no one else has ever heard about so the rest of their friends sometimes don’t even know what it is they’re talking about. The topics stretch from indie literature to obscure old egyptian rituals and no one talks about that one thing with the Ouija board.

Enjolras and Eponine. Enjolras and Eponine eventually bonding over the horrible relationships with their parents even though the circumstances are so very different. There is the somewhat established tradition of sharing a bottle of whatever is closest in the backroom of the Musain at 2am when something happened again or brought up memories they want to forget.

Marius and Musichetta. Marius and Musichetta having that adorable mother-son-sort-of-relationship even though Chetta not even quite reaches up to his shoulders. But Marius who never had a mother figure in his life being incredibly grateful when Chetta simply asks him how his day was or who the lovely girl is he’s talking about or how it is going with his studies.

Cosette and Bossuet. Cosette and Bossuet making flower crowns together because that way Bossuet might not have hair but at least flowers on his head. Lots of talking about boys and girls and Cosette painting Bossuet’s nails because he always moves too early or something falls on his hands and ruins everything.

Bahorel and Jehan. Bahorel and Jehan totally meeting in a bar fight. The typical damsel-in-distress situation. Jehan kicked those guys’ asses and from then on Bahorel insists on calling them his “knight in ugly sweaters”

Grantaire and Marius. Grantaire and Marius going out for drinks together and Grantaire teasing Marius about love and all that but ending up actually giving great advice. Marius getting emotional and gratefully trying to give Grantaire advice and well, if they end up drunkenly crying while watching crappy romcoms in the middle of the night more than once no one has to know.

Joly and Feuilly. Joly and Feuilly are almost as bad as Enjolras and Joly because Joly is on full worrying mode because “Feuilly, you look tired, how much did you sleep? You work too much”,“Feuilly, you look pale, do you eat enough vegetables?”,“Feuilly, did the coughing get worse?”,“Feuilly, Bossuet and I made you chicken soup, no you can eat it, it was actually Chetta who made it.”

Enjolras and Marius. Enjolras and Marius actually being friends. Yes, maybe not the most cordial friends to ever exist but Enjolras does value the different point of view Marius has apart from the other Amis because it gives Enjolras more perspective. One time they discussed for hours and Enjolras even brought Marius coffee in between. Courfeyrac teared up a little when he heard that.

Just. All the possibilities. 

Part 2

Whiny, but Still Cute- Jillian Holtzmann

A/N: I honestly didn’t think anyone would like my last Holtzmann imagine, and it made me feel very validated to know that you guys liked it, so thank you very much! P.S., I feel like sick Holtzmann would be so needy, but in a cute sort of way (I’m trash, please help)

Prompt: “I was wondering if you could do a Holtzmann imagine where she gets sick/ injured and the reader is taking care of her. Thanks!” For @elza5 , hope it was okay to tag you!

Pairing: Jillian Holtzmann x Reader (Female)

Warnings/ Word Count: None/ 1,335

“Jill! I made you some soup! Hope chicken noodle’s okay.” You call out from across your girlfriend’s apartment, scooping some of the boiling hot contents into a bowl with a large stirring spoon. You hear a loud groan in response coming from her room. You make your way through her messy little home, gadgets and tools strewn about, it was honestly an accident waiting to happen. Still, you made it just fine into Holtzmann’s room at the back of the house and saw her curled up in multiple heavy blankets with a box of tissues and old used ones scattered on her bedside table and some on the bed itself.

She hears you walk through the door and turns to you, sitting up in her bed, wiping her nose with another tissue and carelessly tossing it on the table. She was truly a mess; her long blonde hair frizzy and knotted, deep dark circles under her eyes, a very red and irritated looking nose, and pale, cracked lips.

You sat next to her on the bed, Holtzmann barely having enough energy to scoot over and make room for you. “You feelin’ any better, babe?” You asked softly, removing one of your hands from the bottom of the bowl of soup and pressing it to her forehead to check her temperature. She just shook her head and frowned. “C’mon, I made you some soup. Eat up, you’ll feel better.” You took your hand away from her head and tried to hand the soup towards her. She was reluctant at first, carefully side-eyeing the bowl and debating whether or not she should eat. Jillian just looked up at you and opened her mouth waiting for you to feed her.

“Babe, I’m your girlfriend, not your mom. You can feed yourself.” You laugh and she took the bowl out of your hands, shoving a spoonful of it into her mouth. She quickly spit the contents back into the bowl, pouting at it. You look at her with a dropped jaw, kind of offended she would spit it out. Surely you weren’t that bad of a cook. “It’s hoooottt.” She whined, broth still dripping from her lips, which she wiped away with the back of her hand. You closed your mouth, tilted your head at her and let out a deep breath through your nose. “Well… Yeah, it is. I just finished making it.” You tried to keep your patience with her, but sick Holtzmann was a stubborn and whiny Holtzmann, too difficult to handle.

“Well, you could have told me!” She whined and threw her head back, accidently knocking her head on the backboard of her small bed and placing a hand over it, complaining about the pain. “Jillian, I can’t give you any more medicine for any pains for another two hours, I’m watching the time, I promise. For now, just eat your soup.” You attempted to console her, then stood up and heading to her bedroom door.

“(Y/N),” She weakly called out, and turned back around to look at her, a confused expression on her face. “Where are you going?” Holtzmann blew on a spoonful of soup and ate it. “This place is a mess, Holtz! I’m gonna clean up a bit in the living room and kitchen.” You’ve never approved of the state of Jillian’s home, seeming as though it was very often covered in trash and spare parts from her latest inventions. “Okay, but just set-” “-your tools in the case on your coffee table. I got it.” You cut her off, smirking. You already knew the drill. You wink at her and turn back, walking into the living area, hearing a faint “I love you!” coming from the bedroom, which you repeated to her.

You spent some time organizing the main room in the apartment, restacking movies on shelves, putting the tools in their designated spaces in the black case, dusting the small flat screen tv and the stand on which it rested, things like that. Besides her asking for another bowl of soup, you didn’t hear anything from your bedridden girlfriend, so you assumed she was asleep, despite the fact that it was 3 o’clock in the afternoon. Time is irrelevant when you’re sick; sleep when you want for however long you want, it doesn’t really matter. Holtz was asleep when you first came in this morning at around 8 o’clock. You knocked to let her know you were at the door, but once there was no response, you used the key she gave you after about 6 months of dating. You walked into the room quietly, hearing her snoring and seeing her covered in a sea of used tissues.

You waited on the small, chocolate-colored couch, watching a program on tv at a quiet volume until she passed behind the couch on her way to the bathroom, placing a weak hand on your shoulder to welcome you, but no words were exchanged.

After you finished straightening up the living room, you tiptoed into Jillian’s bedroom, taking the empty bowl from the bedside table, peeking at her face, making sure she was asleep, and waking back out. You soaked all of the dirty dishes from around the house in a sink full of soap and started to organize the trash in the kitchen. Trash was taken out, dishes were washed and left on a rack to dry, and you looked at the clock hanging on the wall, noticing it was time for Jillian’s next dose of medication.

While you didn’t want to disturb her, you did want her to feel better. Taking the bottle of cold medicine, a spoon, and a glass of water, you walked over to Holtzmann’s room and set everything on the table. “Holtzy, baby, wake up. It’s time for some more medicine.” You knelt over her on the ground beside her bed, very gently rubbing her back, seeming as though she was laying there, stomach down and her face smooshed on her pillow. Her eyes slowly opened and she yawned, turning around to lay on her back until she was stable enough to sit up in her bed.

“How long was I out?” She asked through a stuffy nose as you poured some of the thick, light red liquid onto the spoon and offered it to her. “Not very long, but long enough to let me clean your apartment successfully.” You chucked at the disgusted face she made when she downed a spoonful of the strong tasting cold medication. You prepped the second spoonful as she took a quick sip of the water you left for her. After Holtzmann downed the second spoonful and rid the taste with water, you took everything back into the kitchen and returned to her side. She blew her nose into another tissue, and you decided to grab the small trash can from her bathroom, instructing Jill to discard all of the old tissues into the bin, which she did.

You sat on the bed next to her, bravely taking her hand and allowing her to nuzzle her head into your neck, aware that you could catch her cold from the contact. With your head propped up on the backboard, Jillian slid down a little in order to get comfortable and wrapped her arm around your legs as her head lay in your lap. She was like a kitten, and you stroked her frizzy hair, that was still very soft somehow. You felt her starting to drift away again, but you couldn’t bother moving away from her.

“Y’know, you should probably listen to me the next time I tell you not to go out into the freezing cold without a jacket.” You speak softly and laugh afterwards. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” She brushed you off and was asleep not even a minute later. You continued to stroke her hair, admiring her beauty, even as sick and pale as she was, she was still perfect to you.

“You’re whiny, but still cute, my love.”

Chapter 6 - What Happens In Vegas?

A Richonne FanFic Series

Chapter 1.   Chapter 2.   Chapter 3.   Chapter 4.    Chapter 5.


Chapter 6

I can’t believe we’re already fighting. She thinks.

It’s been one week and two days since they first met. One week and a day since they got married in Las Vegas. Reconnecting only two days prior when he showed up unannounced at her office. Now they stand in the middle of her living room having their first argument.

The make-up sex is going to be phenomenal. Her mind ponders. She chastise herself for her thoughts as she takes in Rick.

Agitated he paces her living room; his eyes blaze a darker blue, shoulders tense and arms waving wildly in the air.

He shifts the full force of his penetrating gaze upon her before turning and ambling towards her in a slow bow-leg predator gait.

Oh shit. Her mind screams internally.

XxXx0000000000xXxX

Three Hours Earlier

“Are you dead?”

“Ughhh,” Michonne groans into her cellphone. If it wasn’t for the constant ringing, she would not have answered it.

“I think I am dead. I feel dead,” the person on the other end of the phone groans in return. Michonne coughs to clear her throat. Her mouth is dry and has an awful taste upon her tongue.

“If this is death, I don’t like it.”

“A-Andrea,” She finally gets out, “What do you want?”

“Calling to see if you’re dead.”

“I’m not.”

“Well I am! I don’t have a husband here to pamper me!”

Michonne snaps up into a sitting position. It all comes back to her in a dizzy rush. She remembers Rick and their date. Opening the door to cerulean eyes and his smile fading once he took her in; she recalls rushing to the sink and throwing up. She recalls him holding back her hair and carrying her to bed. She groans internally at the memories.

“Who orders a Greek salad pizza? Who was the fucking genius who thought up of a Greek salad pizza? Why put a salad on top of a pizza? It’s a fucking pizza! It is not supposed to be healthy!”

“Andrea-” Michonne tries to cut her off but the woman ignores her and continues her rant. Michonne stands and notices the vase of pink and red snap dragons by her bedside. She smiles at the flowers, he must have put them there. She wonders if he was gone, a flutter of disappointment floats through her chest at the thought of Rick already gone.

“If you want to eat a salad then eat a fucking salad but don’t ever order a pizza salad or salad pizza or any fucking shit like that again. Michonne, you are never allowed to order pizza again and if you do stick with pepperoni and cheese.”

“There were other choices,” Michonne grumbles glancing at her bedside clock, it’s only five o'clock. She pace towards her bedroom window, pushing the curtains open; the sun hangs lower in the sky, slowly making its way to the horizon for the night.

“Too fucking late for the advice Mich. Maggie was smart she had cheese just like her boring bland ass; so she’s fine. Sasha must have a fucking steel trap for a stomach because that girl had more of that nasty ass Greek salad pizza and she’s completely fine. She called wanting to know if I wanted to do lunch with her and Maggie, I could barely get of fucking bed. I almost called my mom to take care of me, Mich! My mom! I love her but you know how much that woman gets on my damn nerv-.”

Michonne disconnect the phone while Andrea is in mid-sentence. Once Andrea starts on her mom, it’s a black hole of time and Michonne has other things on her mind, mostly Rick.

Turning away from the window, Michonne starts out of her bedroom. Her phone starts to ring again, she silences the device and toss it onto her bed as she steps into the hallway. When she reaches the end of the hallway she pauses, the place is spotless.

Hosting Sasha, Andrea, and Maggie, the women left the place a mess with empty wine bottles, pizza boxes, and junk food scatter around her living room and kitchen the night before. Michonne plan was to clean the disaster in the morning before her afternoon date with Rick. Her plans were for naught when she woke up sick.

Now the place is spotless. The sink is clean and clear of all traces of dishes and vomit, her floors are glossy and her counter tops are bare of any foreign objects.

Michonne’s heart flutter at the thought of Rick doing all of this for her. A soft snore sounds from the living room catching her attention; she turns toward the sound and quietly making her way into the room.

A smile tugs across her smile as she sees Rick sprawl out on the couch. One arm is swung over his face, the other lays across his stomach with a book facedown across his chest and one leg hanging over the end other couch. She can’t shake off the feeling that Rick is meant to be on her couch, maybe it’s because he looks so handsome and peaceful as he sleeps.

Grabbing the throw blanket that’s drape over the back of the couch, she covers Rick with it. Pulling the book away from his chest she’s surprise to find blue eyes sleepily gazing up at her.

“Hey,” he grumbles.

“Hi,” Michonne says with a smile.

Rick starts to sit up, Michonne stops him by putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Rest.”

“Nah, I should get up,” Rick says stretching as he sits up, “How ya feelin’?”

“Good, hungry but good.”

“I’m sure you are, you wouldn’t stop throwing up yesterday. I thought you would puke your stomach out.”

Michonne groans at his admission, she pauses at something he says and looks up at him in alarm.

“Yesterday?”

“Yes,” Rick watches the confusion play across her face. He pushes the blanket off of him and swings his other leg onto the floor turning to face her. “Today is Sunday, you slept through most of the weekend, Michonne. You were pretty out of it for most of the afternoon and night and spent most of the time throwing up and sleeping. I tried to give you some ginger ale for your stomach and soup but you threw those up too. We finally settled on blue Gatorade, you seem to like that.”

“And you stayed the entire time?” Michonne asks, eyes unexpectedly filling with unshed tears at the way Rick stayed and took care of her.

“Through sickness and health, right?”

Michonne smiles, “Right.”

She looks away from the cerulean eyes, searching the room for relief from the intensity of his stare.

“Thank you for cleaning, you didn’t have to do that.”

Rick shrugs, “There was nothing better for me to do.”

This man is amazing. She thinks.

His eyes trace the features of her face and suddenly Michonne feels self-conscious remembering she looks a mess and her breath. She’s surprise his eyes are not watering at the smell of her breath. She whips her hand over her mouth and turns away from his gaze, trying to look anywhere but at him.

“You said you’re hungry? Wanna try to eat something?”

She nods, peeking a glance him with her mouth still cover. Those blue eyes takes her in and she glances away.

“Go take a shower and I’ll warm up dinner.”

She nods again as she stands to her feet, Rick moves along with her. They pause inches apart, he pulls her hands away from her mouth, eyes dropping to her lips. Her eyes are on his, they slowly travel up his face until they reach his starling blues. She can see the desire within the blue orbs, he takes a step closer and she snaps away from him.

“Shower… I better go,” She says stumbling away.

XxXx0000000000xXxX

Two Hours & Five Minutes Earlier

Michonne’s stomach grumbles as she inhales the mouthwatering aroma. Padding towards the kitchen she pauses at the entrance and watch Rick move around her kitchen like it belongs to him. A wide smile spreads across her face while she takes him in. He’s dress in the best fitting Levi jeans again and a snug brown t-shirt. She can’t believe how good the man look in jeans and a t-shirt.

He looks better naked. Her mind reminds her. Her mind travels to the thought of Rick Grimes naked and her body temperature increases.

She doesn’t realize Rick is looking at her until he calls out her name. She meet his blue eyes briefly before looking away embarrass, being caught ogling him. She hears him chuckle as she enters the kitchen.

“What smells so good?” Michonne asks ignoring his chortle.

“My specialty, it is sure to make you feel one hundred percent better, chicken noddle soup.”

“You made chicken noddle soup while I took a shower? I know I take long showers but I am not that bad!” She jokes taking a seat on the bar-stool at the kitchen island.

Rick chuckles while opening up a cabinet and pulling two bowls from inside, “I cooked it last night.”

“Last night?”

“Yes, while you slept I cleaned and cooked.”

“Cooking. Cleaning. You’ll make a proper house-husband. Do you do laundry too?”

“I have mastered the art of getting grass stain out of jeans and ketchup stains out of white shirts.”

Michonne laughs. Rick scoops a spoonful of chicken noddle soup, placing a healthy portion in each bowl before turning back to Michonne and placing a bowl in front of her. He fills two glasses with water, grab some utensils, and places the items in front of Michonne before sitting next to her.

“Thank you.”

Michonne scoops up a spoonful of soup and takes a tentative sip. The soup is delicious with the perfect blend of seasoning, noodles, carrots, peas, and chicken. She takes another spoonful this time a bigger bite enjoying the meal. Her stomach grumbles in content. After several more mouthfuls of the soup she notices Rick staring at her. With the spoon halfway to her mouth she turns to a smiling Rick.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he continues to smile as he spoons the noodles in his bowl and eat himself.

She always heard about sitting in comfortable silence with a person, like she’s experiencing with Rick. The silence is not only comfortable there’s a soft peace to enjoying a meal next to him. Michonne tries to think if she has ever experience a comfortable silence with a person, just enjoying their presence and the peace of the moment. Her minds wanders to Mike, maybe at a time they could sit in comfortable silence but it was never like this, this peaceful. Michonne finishes all of her soup and thinks about seconds.

“You should wait to see how your stomach handles the food before you get more.”

She nods in agreement taking a sip of her water.

“That was really good.”

“Glad you like it but like I said, it is my specialty.”

“Is that the only thing you know how to cook?”

Rick looks offended, “What do you take me for? Last night I had planned to come over here and woo you with my cooking skills.”

“Woo me?” She smirks.

“Woo you! My Chicken Marsala would had you dropping down on one knee asking me to marry you.”

“You’re that cocky huh?”

“I’m that confident,” Rick says leaning towards Michonne. Pull by his gravity, she leans into him and smiles. His eyes fall to her lips, a smile pulling at his own lips. He leans in to capture her lips but Michonne abruptly stands. She gathers their empty bowls, glasses, and moves to the sink. She hears a soft sigh behind her as she moves away.

“Where did you learn how to cook?”

“Single dad, I either learn how to cook or feed my kids take out and frozen microwaveable food,” Rick says coming to stand next to her. Michonne turns on the faucet and together they start washing the dishes.

“Cooking lessons, recipes, or trial and error?”

“All three, more trial and error than anythan’ else. I even develop an unhealthy obsession with the Food Network.”

“You thought you were Bobby Flay, huh?”

He gives a deep chuckle as he shakes his head, “More Rachel Ray, I mastered the thirty minute meal but sometimes I like to pretend I’m Emeril Lagasse.”

“Did you pretend to talk to a camera while you cooked?”

“Nah, normally Carl kept me company. He’ll do his homework while I cooked that way I could help him if he had any questions. When Judith got older she became my little helper.”

Michonne hearts warm at the image he speaks of. She tries to imagine how she’ll look as part of that picture, getting dinner ready with the Grimes family.

“That’s sweet,” She mumbles.

The dishes are wash, dried, and put away in silence. Michonne tidy the kitchen while Rick starts a pot of tea. She watches him effortlessly move around her kitchen as if it is his. He puts together a tray with two tea cups, a plate of cookies, and assorted tea bags from her cabinets.

“You bake too?” She asks incredulously.

“No, store brought. That’s one thing I’m terrible at, baking. I can bake a casserole no problem but cookies? Cake? I’ll burn the house down… almost did… several times.”

Michonne laughs harder than she intends to and gives him a secret smile. Once the hot water is ready, Rick puts the rest of the tray together, and the two retreat to her living room. Rick takes up one side of the couch and Michonne sits away from him on the other end.

XxXx0000000000xXxX

Thirty Minutes Earlier

Somehow they end up sitting next to each other. Rick leans into her as she leans into him. Thighs touching as hands lightly caresses the others. The conversation easily flowing. After dinner, Michonne turns on her Love, Sex, and Water playlist, allowing the eccentric collection of music to fill the spaces of their conversation.

“You redeemed your music taste with Higher Love, even though I still believe Steve Winwood version is better,” He tease.

“I’m just impress you know other songs outside of country music.”

“Hey, I’m hip. I know other artists and songs.”

“If you have to say you’re hip… that means you’re not hip.”

Rick take her jab coolly and replies, “I know other artist outside of country. I listen to hip-hop.”

Her eyebrow raises with humor, “Name three current artist!”

She smiles at the adorable knit of his brows as he concentrate.

“If you have to think that hard…”

“There’s Jay-B and Zeyonce.”

Michonne’s mouth gap open for several seconds before she breaks into a loud laugh leaning into him which in turn causes Rick to smile wider and inches closer.

“Jay-B and Zeyonce? Are you serious?” Michonne laughs out for a moment before she collects her breathe, “You mean Jay-Z and Beyoncé?”

“I know who they are.”

She looks at him with doubt.

“Jay-Z, Beyoncé, Raury, Zhu, Kendrick Lamar, J. Cole, Taylor Swift, Pell, Chris Brown, Sam Hunt, Sia, Eminem, Kygo, Slipknot, Imagine Dragon and I can go on!”

Her eyes widens as he rattles off various artist names; he smiles knowing he impress and surprise her.

“How do you know all that?”

“I told you I’m hip,” he states with another chuckle, her eyes narrow upon him and he laughs harder, “Carl.”

“Carl?”

“He is like you, he has an eccentric taste in music and likes a little bit of everythan’. I make it my business to know what’s he’s listening, watching, and reading.”

She can’t help but smile at his over-protectiveness, “And you allow him to listen to Jay-Z?”

“Trust me, we had several conversations about his choices and some have even been banned from the house but he’s fifteen soon to be sixteen. As much as I want to, I can’t keep him from growing up.”

Turning into him, Michonne gazes into his cerulean eyes. The current song ends and a new one begins, it’s slow and seductive.

“Who is this?”

“I thought you knew all the artist?” Michonne mocks him.

He pulls her into him, “Not all of them.”

“Trixie Whitely's Breathe You In My Dreams.”

Breathe You In My Dreams.”

By the look in his eyes, she knows he wants to kiss her. She wants him to kiss her. Before she can allow that she has to apologies.

“Sorry about our date,” She starts.

He shrugs, slowly taking in her face, “I thought this is our date.”

“A real one… we’ll try again soon.”

“Yea?”

Nodding, she repeats, “Yea.”

“Did you party too hard?” He alludes to the mess her and her friends had made Friday night.

“Food poisoning. I think it was the Greek Salad Pizza, Andrea got sick too.”

“Greek Salad Pizza? Whatever happened to pepperoni pizza?”

She giggles, “It sounded good at the time!”

“I’m never letting you order pizza.”

Her giggles turns into a deeper laugh, “Andrea said the same thing.”

“Sasha, your cousin, had called several times. Hope you don’t mind but I answered your phone and told her you were sick but I was taking care of you.”

“You didn’t have to… take care of me.”

“I wanted to,” He leans in breathing against her lips.

“Thank you for everything. I owe you fo-”

“You owe me nothing… we’re married. We’re partners and I did this because I lo-”

“Don’t say it!” Michonne cuts him off jolting away from him.

“Say what? Say that I love you!” He doesn’t shout but there’s anger in his voice. He inches away from her.

“How can you possibly say you love me when you barely know me?”

“You don’t believe me?”

Rick is on he’s feet so fast, Michonne is jar by his quick movement; but she recovers quickly and jolts to her feet. He starts to pace her living room and she watches his every move.

“How can you possibly say you love me? How can you possibly be in love with me? Sure I’ll gladly admit that there’s something between us that I don’t even fully understand but love? How can you be so sure? I care about you! Hell, I like you more than what even makes sense to me but love, Rick? We just met Rick! We’ve known each other a little more than a week! Actually barely a week since we didn’t speak for four days!”

“And who’s fault is that? You left!” He snaps.

“What else was I supposed to do?”

“Stay! You were supposed to fuckin’ stay, Michonne.”

The hurt he feels wraps around each word and punches her in the gut. She figured he’ll be upset by her leaving but hadn’t thought he’ll also be hurt. His blue eyes sing with the sting of pain before morphing into anger once more, “You were supposed to stay, so we could figure out our next step together!”

XxXx0000000000xXxX

Now

“Stay? And discuss a one night stand?”

“This isn’t a one night stand! This isn’t some Vegas fling! I am your husband and you are my wife! And I love you!”

“You don’t love me. You may like me but I doubt you love me.”

He shifts the full force of his penetrating gaze upon her before turning and ambling towards her in a slow bow-leg predator gait.

“Don’t you dare tell me how I feel about you!”

“How? Explain to me how.”

He comes to a stop in front of her, she defiantly glares at him refusing to back down.

“When I got divorce to Lori, I promised myself I’ll never get marry again. That it wasn’t worth it and I would never do that again. I promised myself that I wouldn’t put myself through that shit again, that I wouldn’t put my children through that and then I saw you. I fuckin’ saw you, then you smiled and all I wanted was to be with you. I never believed in that cliché, even with Lori I never believed that cliché bullshit. I thought it was only for movies but I looked into your eyes and knew… I knew Michonne that you were all I ever wanted and needed.”

Fuck him. Her inner voice shouts. Strip him naked, kiss every inch of him, and ride him into glory. Fuck. Him.

She shakes her head, trying to clear the lustful thoughts from her mind. She’s rock to her core by his confession. Her heart soars with each word he speaks.

“I… think… I ne-” She stammers.

“And that’s your fuckin’ problem,” He snaps.

“My problem?” Michonne asks shaking her head in surprise and disbelief at his crassness. He is supposed to be winning her over but this isn’t helping.

“You think too damn much.”

Michonne can feel her face crumple into her ‘what the fuck’ face. Rick doesn’t find the face intimidating how it supposed to come across, he gives a dark chuckles.

“I think too damn much?” She repeats as if trying to better understand his words.

“I didn’t stutter.”

“Is this how you’re supposed to win me over?”

“I already won you over… the summer is for you to realize it.”

“Listen, you fuckin’ cocky ass bast-”

Michonne doesn’t have a chance to finish. Rick is upon her, seizing her lips and pressing his tongue into her mouth effectively silencing her. She supposed to be mad, they’re supposed to be in the middle of their first fight but for the life of her she can’t think of a coherent thought with Rick’s lips on hers.

Make-up sex, now! Sex now! Her mind calls out. Her body agrees with the thoughts. She fist his tight and right brown shirt and pulls him close. His tongue strokes hers and caresses the roof of her mouth. Her knees buckle and she falls against him.

Rick’s hands wrap around her waist before, he deepens the kiss and Michonne only thought is how she never wants the kiss to stop. As soon as the thought finishes, Rick pulls away from the kiss and looks into her eyes.

“Michonne, from the first moment I looked into your eyes I knew everythan’ changed. You smiled and it felt like the world fell away and it was only us. Everythan’ I wanted and needed was… is in that smile. You say we don’t know each other and that maybe true, but I am willing to spend the rest of my life to find out everythan’ there is to know about you. You asked how… and I can’t answer that, but I do know that I love you, Michonne.”

Her hands unclench the fabric of his shirt, she looks down and smooth the material before looking back up into his eyes full of candor, sincerity, hope and love.

Love.

Michonne’s hands move up and cups his face, she searches his eyes and she feels a chamber of her heart slam opens.

“I can’t stay it,” She confesses. She expects the hope in his eyes to dim but they don’t, he patiently waits for her to finish. His unwavering belief in them pulls a smile from her lips.

“I didn’t ask you to,” He replies.

“But you will. You’re that type of man who wears his heart on his sleeve and you will want me to say those words to you and I don’t think I can…” Michonne trails off.

“Yet.”

“What?” She asks tilting her head.

“You don’t think you can… yet,” Rick says, his thumb brushes her full bottom lip in passing as her slides his hand to cup the side of her face. His other hand wraps around her waist and pulls her against his chest before he places his forehead against hers.

“Yet, that’s what you were going to say. You were going to end that sentence with yet but you stop because you’re afraid,”

Eyes flutter close as he speaks, Michonne leans against him and closes her eyes as well loving how right it feels being in his arms.

“You’re afraid but I am too. The way I feel about you frightens me to my core because I never thought I’ll feel like this for another person and then here you are. I fell in love suddenly and completely and it scares this shit out of me.”

They fall silent for a moment, swaying in each other’s arm. When Michonne opens her eyes and locks onto blue spheres burning bright with love and she finds herself wanting to catch on fire.

“I can’t stay it… not yet… but one day because there is something there… something here. I just want to say it with no doubts and as much convictions as you have.”

The fire within his gaze intensify a smile pulls at the corner of his lips, “You will.”

“That cocky?” She quips.

“That confident.”

She laughs against his chest and he chuckles along before sobering up.

“We are really going to try this?” Rick asks, his blue eyes pouring into hers.

“We are really going to try this,” Michonne replies.

He nods, his face tighten for a moment before he speaks again: “Promise one thing first.”

“What?”

“Promise me first.”“

"Any lawyer worth their weight reads the fine print before signing on the dotted line.”

“Michonne,” Rick says slowly dragging out the last syllable of her name it causes a shiver to snake down her spine, the way his blue eyes bore into hers doesn’t help.

Michonne shakes her head and sighs, “Fine. I promise, now what did I promise to?”

“No overthinking and no walls, from the both of us! We are going to do this one hundred percent as husband and wife. We’re going to do everything to make this work, no exit or back-up plans,” Rick says, eyes boring into the depth of her soul.

Michonne nods, “I promise, one-hundred percent!”

Kyungsoo sneezes for the nth time today. He reaches for his box of tissues but realizes he’s used up all of them. Fuck. His head feels like it’s going to explode and getting out of bed seems like an impossible task but what other choice does he have? He gets up and wraps his blanket around himself as he makes his way to the kitchen. 
“Morning.” he mutters when he walks past Jongin who is sitting at the table looking at his phone. It must be a pretty bad day for Kyungsoo if Jongin is awake and out of bed before him.
“Hey, how’s your cold? Better?” Jongin asks concerned.
Kyungsoo is opening various cupboards trying to find the tissue boxes. “No, it’s worse.” And Jongin can tell because Kyungsoo’s voice is obviously affected by the illness. 
Kyungsoo is getting annoyed at this point and starts to slam the cupboard doors shut. “Where are the tissue boxes?” he whines.
“Did we run out?” Kyungsoo doesn’t answer, he just stands there staring in disbelief. Why does the universe hate him? He sits down on the opposite side of the table and tries to comfort himself by snuggling into his blanket. It’s not helping. He still feels miserable.
Jongin’s heart hurts a little, seeing him like this. He disappears for a few moments and when he comes back he hands Kyungsoo a regular pack of tissues. It’s not what he wanted but it’ll do. “Thank you.” he sniffles before he blows his nose.
“I’ll go to the store and get you some tissue boxes, ok?”
“You don’t have to do that.” But Jongin is already putting on his shoes. 
“I’ll hurry.” He gives him a sympathetic smile and then he’s out the door.
Kyungsoo relocates to the couch, turns on the TV and curls up in his blanket hugging a pillow. It doesn’t take long before he drifts off to sleep. 
He’s woken up a good hour later by the smell of food and the sound of his stomach is growling. He completely forgot to have breakfast. He blinks his eyes open to see Jongin sitting in front of him with a bowl in his hands. Kyungsoo feels a sneeze coming on. He’s too sleepy to remember where he put his tissues. He looks around frantically trying to find them but it’s too late, it’s happening. Achoo. He feels something soft tickling his nose. Jongin managed to hold up a tissue to his face just in time. Kyungsoo takes it from him and blows his nose. He spots the tissue box Jongin went to get for him on the table along with nose spray, cold medicine and some of his favorite candy. He looks at the bowl in Jongin’s hands again.
“I made you ramen. I wanted to make you chicken soup but I don’t know how to cook so I hope this is ok?” 
Kyungsoo feels all warm in his chest. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do all of this, Jongin.”
“But hyung, you always take such good care of me when I’m sick, so I wanted to return the favor. It’s the least I can do.”
Kyungsoo is slurping his ramen as if he hasn’t eaten in days. 
“Is it ok?” Jongin knows cooking isn’t his forte, maybe he should have ordered something instead. But Kyungsoo nods, seeming to enjoy the noodles. 
Jongin spends the next few hours catering to Kyungsoo’s every need and showing him funny youtube videos because he figures that laughter is the best medicine. And maybe it is, because Kyungsoo feels much better. 
It’s gotten dark outside now and Kyungsoo is about to lie down in his bed to sleep but Jongin stops him. “Uhm, Kyungsoo…” he begins and takes a small tub out of the pharmacy bag. “They said to rub this on your chest and back before you go to bed.” He says as he hands it to him. 
Oh. This is awkward. “I don’t think I can rub it on my back.” Should he… ask him?
“I can do it for you.” Jongin feels like his face is burning up. “If that’s ok with you, I mean.”
“Yeah, that would be n-nice.” Kyungsoo is staring back and forth between Jongin and the container in his hands. Jongin takes it from him and scoops out a small amount with his fingers. 
“You have to turn around.”
“Right.” Kyungsoo turns, feeling stupid. 
“I don’t want to get it on your shirt. It might be better if you take it off.” 
Kyungsoo hesitates but obliges and pulls his shirt over his head, hoping Jongin won’t judge his body. It’s quiet- too quiet when Jongin rubs the product on Kyungsoo’s back, maybe taking a little bit longer than he should. He removes his hand and Kyungsoo turns around to face him. Jongin tries not to look but fails. He always fails. In the shower, in dressing rooms and now here too. If only Kyngsoo knew how beautiful he is. Jongin loads his fingers up with more of the product before he realizes that Kyungsoo can probably apply it on his chest himself. “Oh, uhm-” He doesn’t know what to say.
“Go ahead.” The words are quiet but confident. Jongin carefully massages the lotion into Kyungsoo’s chest, his skin feeling warm and soft below his fingertips. Kyungsoo feels vulnerable like this, half undressed and head dizzy from his cold. Wether he’s drunk off the cold medicine or Jongin’s company, he’s not sure but he feels like doing something brave. He takes Jongin’s hand and gently guides it to the left side of his chest where he can feel his heart beating against his palm rapidly and gives him a soft look. This is what you do to me. He doesn’t say the words out loud but he has a feeling that Jongin will understand him regardless. They stay like this for another minute or so, caught in a lovesick haze before they let go of one another. Kyungsoo puts his shirt back on and gets comfortable in his bed. 
“Do you still need anything?”
“No, I’m ok, thanks.”
“Wake me up if you change your mind.” Jongin heads to his bed.
“Actually,” Kyungsoo begins “there’s something I’d like.”
The younger looks at him, waiting. 
“Can you sing for me?”
Jongin wants to laugh but realizes that Kyungsoo isn’t joking.
“I’m not a good singer, you know that.” 
“That’s not true. You’ve improved a lot. I hear you practice, you know. And I know that those extra hours you spend at the dance studio aren’t for dancing.” Jongin bites his lips and tries to think of a way to talk himself out of this. 
Kyungsoo coughs in an overdramatic fashion. “Please.” How could he possibly say no? Jongin sits down on Kyungsoo’s bed and clears his throat. 
“Kyungsoo.”
“Hmm?”
“Don’t look at me.” He’s nervous. How cute.
Kyungsoo closes his eyes. Jongin starts to sing, his voice soft, warm and soothing. Once he gets to the chorus of the song, Kyungsoo opens his eyes a little and watches Jongin as he sways from side to side with his eyes closed and a look of concentration on his face. 
The older is half asleep by the time Jongin finishes the song. He’s about to get up when he hears Kyungsoo’s voice. “More.” 
Jongin sighs and starts a new song, singing Kyungsoo to sleep. 

In Sickness

For lateforerebor​, because these two give me so many feels. And I am pleased and thankful you allow me to write for them, dear

“I made you some chicken soup.”

“Amatus, that is hardly-”

“Come on, it’ll make you feel better.”

Dorian sighed, a weary and resigned noise as he slowly nodded his head. He couldn’t deny that Vaxus’ heart was in the right place. Even if any cooking skills might have been… questionable. At best. Even if the soup didn’t go down well, the company was quite desireable.

He shifted up in the bed as Vaxus approached, steaming bowl of soup in his hands and a grin larger than the Breach on his face. Maker preserve him, this would be more difficult than being nearly set on fire after their last dragon encounter.

With a weak smile, he took the bowl from Vaxus’ hands. He shifted just a little to allow his love room to sit beside him on the bed. Unfortunately, the pleased and eager expression on the warrior’s face sent Dorian’s stomach lurching. He sniffed at the soup, smile faltering as he dipped the spoon in. He blew gently across the steaming liquid before taking his first taste.

Dorian blanched and it took all of his remaining free will to keep the smile on his face. He dipped the spoon in again as Vaxus encouraged him to try something other than just the broth. Another mouthful and Dorian was praying to whatever god that would listen to dull his taste buds. Just this once. Let him be blissfully unaware and make his amatus happy. Yet, to Dorian’s great disappointment, such wishes were not in the cards to be granted. Not with the simple stomach bug racking his system.

“Delicious,” he lied. From the first time since he’d met Vaxus, Dorian could simply not imagine doing such a thing. And as their relationship had progressed, it had gone even further. Yet now, in this circumstance. Dorian could not bear the sight of breaking his love’s heart. Not when it had been in the right place. “But I believe I’m quite ready to rest for a bit.”

He set the bowl aside on the nearby table, stifling a frustrating cough as he shifted back over. In the mean time, Vaxus slid off the bed declaring he would return with something to read. As much as he loved him, Dorian was ready to be free of this illness, and as he pulled the blankets up to his chin he prayed he’d be asleep by the time his amatus returned.