~❤️🩹Woono taking care of you when your sick❤️🩹~
Request
Fluff/ 1.1k words
You weren’t feeling great. It started with a dull ache behind your eyes when you woke up and only got worse as the day went on. By mid-afternoon, your throat was sore, your body ached, and you were too tired to do much of anything except lie in bed, wrapped in blankets and scrolling aimlessly on your phone. Even typing felt like too much effort.
So you texted Woono, short and to the point.
“Can we reschedule? I think I’m getting sick.”
You expected a sad-face emoji, maybe a “get well soon,” or even a call later in the night to check in. What you didn’t expect was his response.
“I’m coming over.”
Your thumbs flew across the screen in panic.
“Nooo, you’ll get sick too. Seriously, don’t. I’m gross right now.”
He didn’t respond. Just left you on read.
Less than an hour later, your doorbell rang.
You shuffled out of bed, blanket still wrapped around your shoulders like a cape, and cracked the door open. There he was—hood up, mask on, arms full of comfort. In one hand, a thermos of soup. In the other, a small tote bag filled with cold medicine, vitamin drinks, and honey lemon candies. Tucked under his arm was the soft, squishy form of Hyobong, his favorite plushie.
“I brought backup,” he said, holding up the plushie. “And also soup. It’s my mom’s recipe. I stirred it, so I technically helped.”
You blinked, both touched and mildly embarrassed. “You really didn’t have to come all the way over here.”
“Yes, I did,” he said simply. “Now go lie down. I’ve got everything.”
You didn’t have the energy to protest, so you shuffled back to your room and climbed back into bed. A few minutes later, he entered with a tray balanced in his hands, eyes scanning the room like he was on a mission. He set the tray down, took his hoodie off, and sat at the edge of the bed beside you.
“You look exhausted,” he murmured.
“I look like death,” you mumbled.
Woono leaned in closer, eyes meeting yours with a softness that melted straight through your chest. “You look like someone who needs to be taken care of.”
Your breath caught just a little, but before you could respond, he was lifting the spoon to your lips. The soup was warm, comforting, and surprisingly delicious. You gave him a thumbs-up after the first bite.
“I told you,” he said proudly. “Mom’s soup has healing powers.”
When you tried to take the spoon from him, he shook his head and lightly pushed your hand away. “Nope. You’re not lifting a finger. I’m serious.”
After the soup, he handed you a honey lemon candy and made sure you took the medicine and the vitamin drink. You laughed softly at how serious he was about it all, and he only smiled, watching you with this incredibly gentle expression.
“You’re like… really good at this,” you said, voice raspy but amused.
He shrugged. “I care about you. Of course I want to take care of you.”
The way he said it was so natural, so matter-of-fact, that you had to pause. Your eyes met his, and suddenly the air in the room felt warmer.
You looked at him, really looked at him—how he sat with his knees turned slightly toward you, how his fingers played with the hem of your blanket, how his eyes held a quiet kind of worry even though he kept smiling.
“You’re gonna get sick,” you whispered.
“Worth it,” he whispered back.
He stood up just long enough to turn off the bedroom light, letting the soft glow of your lamp paint golden shadows across the room. Then he climbed into bed beside you, pulling the blanket over both of you and wrapping his arm gently around your waist.
“I brought Hyobong for you,” he said, pressing the plushie to your chest, “but I think I’ll do a better job keeping you warm.”
You laughed weakly and leaned into him. The warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the way his fingers slowly brushed through your hair—it was everything your aching body needed. He began humming softly, a familiar tune you couldn’t quite name, and before you knew it, your eyelids were heavy.
When you woke up some time later, it was still dark outside. You were nestled against Woono’s chest, one of his arms draped protectively around your middle, and his cheek resting against your forehead. He was awake, scrolling quietly through his phone with one hand.
“Hey,” he whispered when he felt you stir. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” you mumbled, your voice still quiet. “Because of you.”
He smiled, leaned down, and kissed the tip of your nose.
“I’d take care of you every day if it meant I get to be this close to you.”
You blinked up at him, heart thudding a little harder. You weren’t sure if it was the fever or his words, but you suddenly felt very warm.
“Woono,” you whispered.
“Yeah?”
“I think I’m gonna fall harder than this cold.”
He laughed under his breath, cheeks tinged pink. Then he pulled you in a little closer, pressing his lips to your temple.
“Good. Because I already did.”
