Sick Day - Dallon x Reader
Request: Hello! Could you do Dallon x sick!reader, please? She's down with a cold, and he takes care of her? Thanks x
You had not even opened your eyes yet and you knew you were sick. Your head was pulsating with pain, your mouth was dry, your nose blocked and your eyes burning. You let out a helpless whimpering, opening your eyes to the light of a new day. Your alarm clock was going crazy on your headstand so you reached over as quickly as possible, which was pretty slow, and switched it off. You tried to sit up, but felt dizzy and sick immediately. So you sunk back into the pillow, waiting for your boyfriend Dallon to notice that you were late for breakfast. Dallon always got up before you, his internal clock was just programmed to wake him up point six am when he went to bed regularly and not at like… one in the night. So when Dallon was up, he always prepared breakfast for both of you. In the beginning you had not liked the idea of making him your slave by allowing him to make breakfast every day, but soon he had convinced you that he did not mind and in fact enjoyed it, to look after you in that manner.
It took Dallon another fifteen minutes until he finally decided he had given you enough time to get up and get dressed. You would have shouted for him, but your throat was hoarse and burnt, so you did not.
When he peaked in and saw you still laying in bed, he pouted.
“I made breakfast downstairs and you’re still in bed,” he complained jokingly. “Don’t you have to go to work?”
“I think I’m sick,” you mumbled. Your voice truly sounded pretty hoarse and nasal from your stuffy nose.
His mimic changed immediately from playful hurt to serious concern and he quickly walked over to your bed. He pressed his cool hand against your forehead.
“You’re burning up,” he exclaimed worriedly. “How are you feeling?”
“Pretty shitty,” you admitted.
“Well, you look it,” he told you with raised eye brows.
“Charming,” you mumbled but smiled at him. He always was able to make you smile.
“Should we call the doctor?”
You shook your head. “I don’t think that’s necessary yet. But I’d love something to drink.”
“Of course, I’ll get you something.”
Dallon jumped up and disappeared in the bathroom, getting you a toothbrush glass full of water which you thirstily emptied.
“Are you feeling sick? Should I get you a bucket in case you have to throw up?”
“I’m not really feeling sick, but a bucket might be a good idea,” you told him weakly. Wow, it had really been a long time since you had been this sick.
“Okay, I’m gonna get one for you. And then I’ll call your work and tell them you’re ill, and make some breakfast.”
You nodded and he walked out the door to do the things he had listed.
A few minutes later he reappeared in the door with a tablet that he sat down on the bed next to you.
“I called your workplace and they hope you feel better soon,” he told you while helping you to sit up.
He had prepared a teapot with herbal tea and several slices of toast with honey. He knew that your mother always used to feed this to you when you were sick as a child and you thought it was a lovely gesture of him to do the same.
Hungrily you ate the toast and almost burned your tongue when you sipped the hot tea. You started to feel better already, but Dallon insisted that you were to stay in bed.
He left you alone for a few minutes again to call the studio to tell them he would stay home and look after you. When he returned, you were sound asleep.
You woke up from a terrible feeling in your stomach. Quickly you grabbed the bucket before you threw up. Dallon, who had fallen asleep next to you, shot up and helped you hold the bucket while rubbing circles into your back.
When your stomach was empty, you were shaking, sweating and breathing heavily, but you felt slightly better, apart from the disgusting taste in your mouth. Dallon went to the bathroom to get you a glass of water so you could rinse out your mouth. Then he took care of the bucket and cleaned it, in case you needed it again.
“I think we should call a doctor, your fever is only going up,” he told you concerned.
You really were not in the mood to talk to a doctor, but you knew Dallon was right. Maybe the doctor could do something about the stuffy nose and the sickness as well.
You were so tired, you did not even notice how Dallon left to make the phone call. You probably had fallen asleep again, because the next thing you remembered was the doctor entering your bedroom.
He did the usual tests with you. He looked into your mouth and ears, he listened to your heart and breathing, and took your temperature. When he was finished he quickly scribbled something down on a piece of paper and handed it to Dallon.
“When she takes these, she should feel better soon,” he explained. “I also wrote down some nose drops so she can breathe again.” He pointed to a line on the paper and Dallon nodded. “It would also help lower the fever, if you could do some cold leg compresses,” he advised and again Dallon nodded.
“Do you think I can leave her alone while getting the meds?” He held up the paper that probably was your prescription.
“I think that should be fine,” the doctor assured your worried boyfriend.
“Okay, then I’ll get them immediately,” Dallon decided. “Thank you very much for your help.”
“You’re welcome,” the doctor smiled.
“Yeah, thank you,” you added, your voice sounding horrible.
“Just get well soon,” the doctor told you with a nod and a polite smile and left the room.
“I’m quickly gonna go to the pharmacy and get your meds, if that’s okay with you,” Dallon told you, stroking your hair lovingly.
He gently kissed your forehead and left you alone once more. Luckily you fell asleep quickly so you did not feel too lonely.
You were woken up again by Dallon. He had a glass of water in his hand and in the other one the pills you were supposed to take. It hurt a bit to swallow the meds, but you were glad modern medicine allowed you the comfort of painkillers and fever-reducing medicine. Dallon also helped you put in the nose drops before he fetched several towels to do the cold compresses. He spread one towel under your legs so the bed did not get wet, and drenched the others with lukewarm water. When he wrapped them around your calves, you shivered. To you, the towels were icy cold. After making sure you were covered by your blanket again, Dallon lay down next to you on his side of the bed.
“Stay away or you’ll get sick too,” you warned, even though you yearned for his soft touch.
“Oh, don’t worry, you’ll be fine by then, so you can take care of me,” he joked, but made sure to keep a safe distance.
“Thank you so much for looking after me,” you mumbled, feeling sleepy again. The coolness of the compresses was wonderful and it felt like the meds were kicking in already.
Dallon smiled at you with kind eyes, his admiration for you evident. “That’s the least I can do for the ones I love,” he whispered, gently pressing his full lips against your forehead before you drifted off to sleep.
