I Love Caretaking In General But Being Taken Care Of??? Is So Hot??? It's Not A Part Of The Kink I Rlly

I love caretaking in general but being taken care of??? is so hot??? it's not a part of the kink I rlly talk about bc it's somehow embarrassing idk idk but goddamnit the thought of someone cute/a partner taking care of me is uhhh very attractive

9?

thanks in advance

This has been in here foreverrr, but since I’m going to use this newly found free time to catch up on some requests! Sorry this took so long.

Warnings: Descriptions of vomit and illness

9: leaving the waste basket nearby

Mila was standing in their en suite struggling to tug a brush through her wet hair. She had to go into the office that morning, the company wanted her to meet the artist that her song was going to be sung by. She liked meeting the people who sang her songs, but she hated going into the office and getting up at the ungodly hour of 8am. She was still trying to brush the ends of her hair when Remy burst through the door, making Mila jump. 

“I know that you’ve seen me naked but sometimes a knock would be nice.” Mila joked before she heard him start retching. “Oh, God. Are you okay?” She asked, walking over to rub his back as a stream of last night’s dinner splashed into the toilet.

Remy nodded before heaving again, bending slightly more forward at the waist. He was basically ready for work, his button up tucked into his dress pants. Remy was basically panting now, one hand steadying himself on the back of the toilet while the other was pressing his tie into his stomach to keep it out of the way.

“Sorry.” He mumbled breathlessly, a gag escaping him as a watery mouthful of vomit left his body.

“It’s okay. Do you still feel sick?” She asked, handing him a wad of toilet paper to wipe his mouth.

Remy shrugged, “I don’t feel great, but I’ll live.” He flushed the toilet and straightened up before clearing his throat.

“You’re not still going to work right?” Mila pried, following him over the mirror where he loosened his tie and rinsed his mouth.

“I’m fine, M. I promise, but I have to go.” He mumbled. 

“Remy, you always do this and you always end up staying home. How about we just cut out the middle part this time around?” She said, running her hand up and down his arm.

Remy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying and failing to compose himself as he gagged again. He slapped his hand over his mouth and whipped around to continue heaving over the toilet.

“You’re not warm,” Mila frowned, gently squeezing the back of his neck. 

Remy cleared his throat and flushed the toilet before straightening, “I felt kind of sick before bed last night. I thought it would’ve passed, but I’ve felt nauseous since I woke up.”

“Do you think it was something you ate? You can’t go to work like this, Love.”

“I don’t know. I just feel really sick. I can do my stuff today from home.” Remy leaned against the sink, resting his hand on his stomach. “Don’t you have to go into the office today?”

“I was supposed to but I can stay home, you really don’t look good.” 

“No, I’ll be okay.” He muffled a burp into his fist, “maybe.”

“How about you lay down and sleep for a little, I’ll take Lee to daycare and head to the office for a little and hopefully I’ll be back before you even wake up.” Mila said.

Remy nodded hesitantly before unknotting his tie and unbuttoning the first couple of buttons of his shirt.

Mila had left to get Leah ready while Remy changed and collapsed back into bed, his stomach churning uncomfortably. He must’ve fallen asleep because time had definitely passed by the time Mila came back in.

“Hey, Love. I’m gonna head out okay?” She said quietly. “I won’t be gone long, text if you need anything. Get some sleep and the trashcan is right here just in case. Don’t vomit on the carpet please.”

“Okay, thank you. I love you, be safe.” He mumbled groggily.

“I love you too, baby. Feel better.”

V, I would love to read something where an OC deals with a horrible, stress-induced stomach ache all day (then maybe throws up when they get home). Preferably Evi because he's my favourite, but whoever you feel like writing 🖤

meet some new ocs, addison and aiden!

if you have questions about them or more requests, send them to my ask!

tws for stomach ache, emeto

“Lord you would not believe the day I had,” Aiden’s gentle voice cuts through the cafe.

From behind the counter, organizing treats in the display, Addison poked his head up to the sound of his boyfriend coming in.

“What happened today?” Addison asked, standing straight and tucking his hands in the pockets of his apron.

“Well it-” Aiden started saying, “Hey, you okay? You’re… paler than normal.”

“Ah,” Addison said, his voice understanding and calm, “Not a big issue, my stomach is just a little upset, I think I ate something bad. Plus I got a major catering order called in. But we have time.”

Aiden sighed softly, “You always get so stressed out when you get orders like that. Why don’t you say we call it a day,” Aiden questioned, “We can rent a movie and snuggle…”

“Alright, let me lock up,” Addison nodded, the thought of rest overwhelming.

-

They’d called in take out. Some japanese food. Miso soup and some rice for Addison, cautious with his stomach in the moment. Teriyaki chicken and rice for Aiden, though Addison did sneak a few pieces.

He’d let Aiden pick the movie, planning on just sleeping now. The food settled in his stomach like he’d just eaten something heavy and rich, putting more pressure on the already upset organ.

Addison had curled up close to Aiden, holding him close to his side.

“You must be feeling pretty rough, huh?” Aiden asked softly, earning a small nod from Addison.

Addison’s stomach let out a low moan, gurgling uncomfortably, trying to digest what little he ate..

“Do you want me to rub it?” Aiden asked.

There was a pause, hesitation, before Addison agreed.

“Just… careful…” Addison spoke softly, hoping opening his mouth to speak so little would keep his stomach in place.

Aiden took over, running his palm up his shirt, rubbing across the oddly rounded and tender areas of his abdomen.

The touch was nice at first. It eased the distress and Addison thought maybe everything would be okay. But then, his stomach let out sickly grumbles, bubbling and churning his stomach. He swallowed thickly, a sudden bitter taste flooding his mouth with an abundance of saliva.

“Babe,” Aiden said, “Do you think puking will help you…?”

“I don’t kn-” His words were cut off with a sick belch, wet and heavy in his chest.

“Poor darling,” Aiden cooed again, “Your stomach is really upset…”

“I don’t wanna move…” Addison slurred, “Nausea will pass… already passing,”

A sharp cramp seized Addison’s stomach, making him gasp and then whimper. Aiden put more pressure on his stomach, rubbing it but still being careful.

“Do you want to move?” Aiden asked, “Bathroom, kitchen… I’ll drag a trash can in here…”

“Bathroom…” Addison said, another sick expulsion of air coming from his throat.

“Okay,” Aiden nodded, “I’ve got you let’s just…”

With barely any effort, a wave of sick collided with the coffee table. He swallowed, panting, trying to choke back more.

“Try to stay on your feet,” Aiden instructed, letting go and dashing to the kitchen, pulling the trash can back to Addison.

In those moments, Addison was desperate. He needed this out, every last bit. But he wasn’t going to make more of a mess. He knew he couldn’t make it to the bathroom, or the kitchen, any movement now would bring temporary damage to the floors.

As soon as the trash can was in front of him, he held onto the edges, heaving so hard he collapsed back on the couch, bringing up a heavy, abundant wave. And then a burp, more heavy flow. Again and again, purging half his body weight if not more.

“Oh…” Aiden winced softly on his behalf as he struggled to take a breath, coughing against more acid and half digested food, chunks getting caught and making it hard to come up.

Aiden gathered his hair back, securing it with a stray set of hair clips, as he moved his hands, one holding his shoulder the other patting his back, almost like burping a baby.

FInally, the hard waves stopped. Then the lighter ones tapered off too, into hard dry heaving and struggling breaths. Before finally, Addison could lean back, rubbing his chest as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

Gently, Aiden wiped his lips with a tissue, tossing it in the trash. Aiden let Addison be for a bit, getting up, getting to work on cleaning up the mess, thank god it was all contained to the coffee table. Once it was cleaned, though in need of bleach, Aiden knelt on the floor in front of Addison.

Aiden ran his fingers through his hair. But careful as he was, Addison pulled back with a low whine.

“Poor darling, you’re crying…” Aiden said softly, “Your stomach’s really upset, huh?”

“Headache… hurts… bad….” Addison slurred out, in too much pain and too exhausted to put forward much effort.

“Migraine… probably…” Aiden said, “Your stomach though….”

“Cassie had a stomach bug last week,” Addison said, “Left work because she puked.”

“Oh no,” Aiden said, “Baby… this is going to be rough… lay down.”

Addison does immediately, out of energy to even move to his bedroom.

I can't believe that today is the last day of sicktember! I have had so much fun reading all the awesome hurt/comfort, sick fics that I love and I continue to be overwhelmed by the amount of support I receive whenever I post my own work. I have THE BEST READERS EVER. Thank you all!

Without further delay, here is my final @sicktember fic.

Beware the Egg Salad - happyaspie

No Archive Warnings Apply || Rated G || Word Count: 3041 || Peter Parker & Tony Stark, May Parker (Ned and MJ mentioned)

Summary: Peter decides to buy himself some extra breakfast on the way to school. But not wanting to spend too much of his money, he opts to purchase a half-price egg salad sandwich from the corner store. It obviously doesn’t sit well in his stomach and when May is stuck at work, it’s Tony that has to come and pick him up. It goes about as well as you would expect. [TW for Vomiting]

[Excerpt Below the Cut]

Due to his humble upbringing, Peter Parker was frugal. He liked saving whatever money he received and when he did spend it, it was never all at once. Even the smallest of purchases were weighed heavily, and he rarely paid full price for large ticket items. Patience was a virtue and if he genuinely wanted it badly enough, he could wait for it to go on sale. It was something that, like his good manners, had been instilled in him since birth and that wasn’t likely to change.

Due to his age and enhanced metabolism, Peter Parker was perpetually hungry. On an exceptionally hectic day, he could eat a full breakfast and be hungry again less than an hour later. His Aunt May did a valiant job at keeping him well fed and he appreciated the effort. But sometimes, knowing the amount of food he required made him feel unnecessarily guilty. And when that happened, he would eat the food that had been provided to him at home and then stop by the corner store on the way to school to buy a ‘second breakfast.’ Like a Hobbit,' Ned had joked but the term had stuck.

It was on the days he chose to use his own money to obtain an additional meal he would realize that being remarkably frugal and persistently hungry weren’t quite compatible. He would find himself rummaging through the store, picking up various items to compare the cost to the calories and then putting them back again. However, the debate would typically end with him placing something from the ‘daily specials’ rack onto the counter. And on the days that he was feeling particularly indulgent, a bag of gummy worms as well.

Corner store’s prepared food wasn’t particularly good, in general. But since he wasn’t an especially finicky eater, it didn't really matter how close it was to its sell-by date. Food was food and was happy for anything that would take up some of the empty space in his stomach. It was fine. All the way up until the day it wasn’t.

__

It was Thursday morning and even though Peter had already eaten three bowls of cereal before leaving his apartment, he was still hungry. So he walked up to the corner store, looked inside of his wallet and eyed his bank card. But after making a rather large purchase over the weekend, he’d told himself he wouldn’t spend anything else with it for a while. Outside of that, there was an empty Starbucks gift card and the two twenty dollar bills that Tony had insisted on giving him a few days prior. It had been his intention to deposit it into his account but seeing as he’d yet to get around to it, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to spend a little bit of it.

With that in mind, he gathered a deep breath in through his nose and stepped into the store, smiling. “Good morning, Mr. Sundar! Got anything marked down yet today?” he pleasantly inquired as he came through the doors. The older man gestured towards the cooler box near the front and Peter skipped towards it. It took a moment to pinpoint what the storekeeper had been referring to but after shuffling a few things around he found several egg salad sandwiches wrapped in cellophane and adorned with a bright orange, fifty percent off sticker. “Bingo,” he whispered to himself and then hurried towards the register to pay.

Peter sat in the seat at the back of the overcrowded train, promptly opened the sandwich and took a bite. It wasn’t horrible. The bread was a little dry and the egg salad was a little tangier than he would have liked but he didn’t think much of it. There wasn’t really any time to. There were only three stops before he had to hop off the train and high tail it the rest of the way to school on foot.

In fact, by the time he'd skidded into his classroom, just in time for the bell to ring, he’d forgotten about it completely. That is until his lower abdomen began to cramp about half way through the lesson. At which point, he was starting to think that perhaps egg salad wasn’t the best way to start your morning. It had seemed reasonable at the time. People eat eggs for breakfast. It was normal. Just not covered in mayonnaise and maybe vinegar? He wasn’t sure. He’d not bothered to read the label.

“Are you okay, Dude?” he heard Ned whisper.

Having not realized he’d had his face scrunched up in mild distress until that moment, Peter took a second to school his features before nodding his head. “Yeah, man. Just- missed the bottom part of the last slide. I didn’t get to write it down,” he easily lied. He’d unintentionally stopped taking notes within the first few minutes of class.

“Oh, that’s easy,” Ned replied. “You can copy mine during lunch.”

Peter thanked his friend with a weak smile but in reality, he was starting to wonder if he’d make it to lunch. Nausea was starting to accompany the cramps, and he was having to periodically swallow just to remind his stomach where it belonged.

[Continue Reading on AO3]

Sickfic Starters

Sickie Sentence Starters:

1A. “Can you just…hug me?”

2A. “Don’t leave, please.”

3A. “I’d watch that movie with you if I knew I wouldn’t cry during it because that really wouldn’t help my congestion.”

4A. “I swear I wasn’t this sick this morning.”

5A. “Yes, I took medicine.”

6A. “You’re sure I’m sick?  ‘Cause I feel fine.”

7A. “I really cannot be sick right now.”

8A. “Everyone gets colds.  I’ll live.”

9A. “I really hope this is just my allergies.” / “You don’t happen to have a cat, do you?” 

10A. “Stop thinking so loud; my head hurts.”

Good Caretaker Sentence Starters: 

1B. “You’re never cold.”

2B. “It’s weird to hear you complain.”

3B. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

4B. “You think you can stomach some water?”

5B. “What hurts?”

6B. “Anything I can do to make you feel better?”

7B. “You’re supposed to be in bed” / “Why aren’t you in bed?”

8B. “No, no, don’t cry.  Please, don’t cry.  It’s okay.”

9B. “Has anyone checked your temperature?”

10B. “Sleep.  I’ll be here.”

Not-So-Good Caretaker Sentence Starters:

1C. “Stop complaining.”

2C. “What happened to your ‘perfect’ immune system?”

3C. “You’re gonna have to help me out here because I have no idea what I’m doing.”

4C. “The internet said you’re dying and I have half the mind to think it’s right.”

5C. “I have to call someone, who can I call?  I have no idea what I’m doing!”

6C. “I didn’t realize you could get grosser, but I guess you proved me wrong.”

7C. “There’s no way I’m getting sick just because you wanted a hug.”

8C. “Gtee away from me–you smell like vomit and sweat.”

9C. “This is the last thing I want to be doing with my time, and you know it.”

10C. “Use a tissue for goodness sake.”

pneumonia is probably my favourite thing to write??? i mean, it’s just such a great way to torture my characters and make them miserable.

they have to sleep propped up on pillows, which can cause back pain if you want extra whump there

sleepy!!sickies!! there’s a lot of fatigue that comes with it, usually.

fevers can get pretty damn high. when my band director had it, it peaked at around 105.

chills are great.

it can come as a complication of something like the flu

it’s pretty versatile??? some cases require a lot of bed rest and medications, others need to be treated in the hospital.

just the type of cough, too. you literally can’t breathe without coughing. and it’s hard to stop, and painful.

just

i know there’s so many other illnesses i could write but i like this one.