Sick Day.
Modern!Buff!Bearded!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: Waking up before him, Eddie’s girlfriend sees that he’s still in bed beside her. Turns out he has a fever, and she ends up taking care of him for the day. TAGS: Sick Eddie, domestic fluff, sick/comfort, established relationship, caretaking, freelance artist reader, Eddie is in his early 30s. Fem!Reader is in her late 20s, though unnamed/undescribed. <3
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Word Count: 2K
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Pale morning light filtered softly through the bedroom curtains, painting warm stripes across the rumpled comforter and the hardwood floor beyond. Somewhere down the hall, the refrigerator hummed faintly through the otherwise silent house while rain tapped lazily against the kitchen windows, steady enough to blur the world outside into muted shades of gray.
She stirred slowly beneath the blankets, still caught somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. For a moment, she stayed exactly where she was, eyes still closed as she listened to the familiar sounds surrounding her. The ceiling fan turned steadily overhead, cool air brushing across the room, while the mattress shifted ever so slightly beside her.
A quiet grunt.
Her eyebrows pinched together. Still half asleep, she frowned faintly into her pillow before finally blinking her eyes open. The digital clock on Eddie’s nightstand glowed just after eight in the morning. Normally by now, he’d already be up, dressed for work, halfway through a cup of coffee, and teasing her about sleeping in while he headed off to Hawkins Auto.
Today, he hadn’t even gotten out of bed. He was still lying beside her, flat on his back with one forearm thrown over his eyes. His dark curls were even messier than usual, sticking out in every direction against the pillow, and every few moments another quiet, miserable little groan escaped him beneath his breath.
She propped herself up onto one elbow, studying him for a second.
“…Eddie?”
The only response she got was a low, sleepy hum that sounded more exhausted than conversational. That alone was enough to tell her something wasn’t right. She shifted to face him, gently guiding his arm away from where it was draped over his face.
“Are you sick?”
He exhaled heavily through his nose, squinting up at her with tired, bloodshot eyes before immediately grimacing and covering his face again.
“Oh, fuck, no,” he muttered into his palms, his voice rough and strained. “No, no, I’m fine. Just… slept weird.”
She arched an eyebrow. “You slept weird.”
“Yeah.” He sniffed sharply, rubbing his nose with the heel of his hand before shifting uncomfortably beneath the blankets. “Yep. Neck’s all messed up. That’s—that’s definitely it.”
She leaned over and pressed the back of her hand to his forehead before he could duck away. His skin was burning.
“Eddie.”
He groaned, twisting away from her touch like a petulant child.
“Okay, okay, maybe I feel like shit,” he admitted, his voice cracking halfway through. “But it’s probably just allergies.”
She gave him a knowing look. “Mhm. Allergies my ass.”
Sliding out of bed, she disappeared into the bathroom and returned a moment later with the thermometer she’d pulled from the drawer.
“Give me your head,” she instructed, switching it on. A tired huff escaped him that almost sounded like a laugh.
“If you insist.” He rolled onto his back, one hand disappearing beneath the blankets. She smacked him lightly over the covers, fighting a smile.
“Your forehead, dummy.”
A brief smirk crossed his face before another cough interrupted it. He brushed the bangs from his forehead, and she held the thermometer against his skin until it beeped.
“100.1,” she read. “Just like I thought. Sick.”
Eddie groaned dramatically before rolling onto his side and looping an arm around her hips, tugging her closer until he could bury his face against her thighs.
“I gotta go to work,” he grumbled.
“Tuh,” she scoffed. “Absolutely not. You’re staying right here and resting.”
She set the thermometer on the nightstand before gently working herself free from his hold.
“I’m gonna make you some tea,” she said, already heading toward the dresser. “Then I’m finding you some medicine.”
Eddie didn’t have much of a reply, which she took as the first sign he was finally accepting defeat. Once she moved his arm away from around her, he simply let it fall back onto the mattress and stayed where he was, watching her through half-lidded eyes as she got dressed and disappeared into the kitchen. A few minutes later, she returned carrying a steaming mug of tea in one hand and a medicine cup filled with DayQuil in the other.
“Eds,” she said, walking over to his side of the bed, “sit up and take this.”
With the world’s most dramatic sigh, Eddie slowly pushed himself upright for the first time that morning. His hair stuck out in every direction, his beard just as disheveled, faint creases from the blankets marked one side of his face, and the miserable expression he wore made him look every bit as sick as he felt. He eyed the little medicine cup with obvious suspicion before gingerly taking it between his fingers.
“How do I know you’re not trying to poison me?” His voice was hoarse enough to make the joke lose some of its usual charm, but he tipped the medicine back anyway. The second he swallowed, his face twisted in disgust.
“Ugh,” he groaned. “That is foul.”
She ignored the complaint, looking at him with equal parts amusement and sympathy as she held the mug out instead. “Tea.”
His fingers curled gratefully around the warm ceramic. He lifted it toward his face, letting the steam wash over him before taking a slow, careful sip. His eyes drifted shut for a brief moment, and he let out a quiet sigh through his nose.
“God,” he muttered into the rim of the mug, his voice muffled and scratchy, “you’re too good to me.”
She reached out without thinking, smoothing down a few stubborn strands of his hair before giving his scalp a gentle squeeze.
“Get some more rest,” she said, her tone leaving very little room for argument. “I’ll be in the office if you need me, okay?”
Eddie lowered the mug from his lips and wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. Then, without a word, he puckered his lips expectantly.
She looked at him, then at his lips, and her face scrunched almost instantly.
“As much as I love you…” she muttered. When he saw her hesitating, his expression melted into an exaggerated pout.
“Damn,” he said, sounding genuinely betrayed. “You’re gonna do me like that?”
A sympathetic, mildly disgusted noise escaped her. “You’re contagious.”
“So?”
She shook her head, laughing despite herself before finally giving in. Leaning over as quickly as humanly possible, she pecked his lips in what was quite possibly the shortest kiss either of them had ever shared before immediately pulling back.
“There,” she said. “Happy?”
A lazy grin spread across Eddie’s face. “Very.”
“Thank you, angel,” he murmured before taking another sip of his tea and setting the mug back on the nightstand.
Rolling her eyes with a smile, she left the bedroom, pulling the door nearly shut behind her before deliberately leaving it cracked open just enough to hear him if he called.
The home office wasn’t anything extravagant. It had once been the guest room until Eddie transformed it into a workspace for her after she moved in, knowing she’d need somewhere quiet to work as a freelance creator. One of the projects currently spread across her desk was a refreshed logo for Hawkins Auto, something Eddie had asked if she’d be willing to design. Naturally, she’d said yes. Settling into her chair, she picked up her pencil and quickly fell into a rhythm, her attention narrowing to the sketchbook in front of her. Time slipped by almost unnoticed until, less than two hours later, a faint, raspy voice drifted down the hallway.
“Baby…”
Her head lifted. “Yes?”
Silence.
Setting her pencil aside, she got up and walked back to the bedroom. Eddie hadn’t moved much. He was lying on his stomach with his face half-buried in the pillow, one eye barely cracked open as he looked at her.
“Can you make me more tea…”
She blinked at him, folding her arms as she took in the truly pitiful state he’d managed to become. Without a word, she picked up his mug, disappeared into the kitchen, and returned a few minutes later with a fresh cup before quietly heading back to her office.
That became the pattern for the rest of the morning. Almost every hour, Eddie called for her, and not in the way she was accustomed to. He was rarely sick, but when he was, he turned into the stereotypical man who suddenly needed the world to know exactly how miserable he felt. Sometimes he wanted something. Other times he simply wanted to announce his suffering.
“My throat hurts.”
“I hope Ray doesn't burn down the shop.”
“You think my D&D character ever gets sick?”
A pause.
“Did you know I love you?”
It wasn’t until a little after noon that she found herself slumped comfortably in her desk chair, laptop still open in front of her. Her head rested against her hand, her eyelids growing heavier with each passing minute until, without realizing it, she’d drifted off. A warm hand settled gently on her shoulder.
“Hey…”
She stirred, blinking sleepily as she craned her neck to look up at him. Eddie stood beside her wearing nothing but a pair of wrinkled gray sweatpants, his hair messy and his beard still a little tousled from sleep. He still looked a little pale, but the feverish haze in his eyes had softened into something closer to exhaustion than misery.
“Awe, angel…” he murmured with a tired smile.
She rubbed at her eyes as she sat up straighter. “Didn’t realize I fell asleep.” A yawn escaped her. “How’re you feeling?”
“Ehh.” He gave a small shrug, gesturing vaguely with one hand. “Better than this morning.” He sniffed, scratching lazily at his beard. “Hungry though. You want lunch?”
She raised a brow. “I was literally about to ask you the same thing.”
His smile grew a little. “Great minds.”
Taking her hand, he gently pulled her to her feet before leading her into the kitchen.
“I was thinking grilled cheese,” he said, already opening the refrigerator. Then he paused. “And tomato soup, if we still have a can.”
He gathered the cheese and butter before reaching for the bread on the counter. After rummaging briefly through one of the cabinets, he pulled out a can of tomato soup as well before setting a pan over the burner to warm.
“You sure you don’t want me to do that?” she asked.
“Nah.” He waved her off. “I got it.”
She leaned against the counter and watched as he buttered each slice before laying them into the pan. The kitchen filled with a familiar sizzle as he layered thick slices of sharp cheddar between them and flipped the sandwiches with ease. While they toasted, he emptied the soup into a small pot and stirred it occasionally until it began to steam.
“I really do feel better,” he said after a moment, glancing over with a small smile. “Promise.”
She answered with a skeptical hum, reaching up to press the back of her hand against his forehead. He was still warm, but nowhere near as hot as he had been that morning.
“Maybe,” she admitted.
Eddie chuckled under his breath as he ladled the tomato soup into two bowls before sliding a grilled cheese sandwich onto each plate. He took the first bite of his sandwich, letting out a satisfied little hum before dipping the next into the warm soup. They ate together, the shared silence broken only by the occasional sniffle from Eddie and the steady rain outside.
He nudged her shoulder with his. “Told you I was fine.”
She rolled her eyes, though she leaned into him anyway. “You’re still taking it easy for the rest of the night.”
“Whatever you say, angel.” Eddie smiled, leaning over to press a kiss against the side of her head before murmuring into her hair, “Thanks for taking care of me.”
A quiet laugh escaped her through a mouthful of grilled cheese.
“No problem, baby,” she replied once she’d swallowed, her voice warm.
He watched her for a second, the fondness on his face impossible to miss, before leaning over to steal one more quick kiss. Only then did he pick up his sandwich again, the two of them settling back into the comfortable silence as they ate.