here with me
pairing: male x gn!reader (i tagged with a lot of different male characters i find comforting, but there’s no names used so you can imagine anyone you so please)
warnings: reader is in pain (nothing descriptive), he comforts. just fluff
a/n: i wrote this as a result of my own migraines, but i kept all the symptoms vague because any chronic pain is a bitch, and you deserve to be treated softly by the person of your choice
The apartment usually wasn’t this quiet when he got home.
He set his keys on the counter and left his boots by the door, then carefully stepped through the apartment. The kitchen and living room were both empty, and the office looked like it hadn’t been touched all day.
There was no light under the bedroom door. He set a cautious hand on the doorknob, but a quiet whimper had him opening the door without question.
You were laid out on the bed, on top of the covers, with an arm draped over your eyes. The ceiling fan and rotary fan on the ground were both spinning at top speed, and he could just see a dark bag poking out under your neck.
He quietly closed the door and returned to the kitchen, now a man on a mission. He grabbed a straw and a water bottle from the fridge, then took an ice pack from the freezer and wrapped it with a dish towel. He took the last item, a bottle of painkillers, from the cabinet and silently returned to the bedroom, the only sound of his presence being the faint click as the door closed one more time.
You let out another small whimper.
Unbearable, then, if you were using an actual pain scale.
He set his items on the nightstand and took a seat beside you on the bed.
Only a couple hours ago, too soon to take more. He put those beside the lamp.
He uncapped the water bottle and put the straw in, then he gently tucked a hand behind your head and lifted. “Drink.”
Your lips wrapped around the straw, and he didn’t pull the bottle away until you’d swallowed at least four times. But before you could lay back down, he replaced your old ice pack with a new one. You shivered a little, but the cold was a welcome reprieve.
You could’ve cried. He’d stuck with you through this so many times he knew your comforts by heart. He read your moods instantly, and most of the time didn’t need promptings, but he always took the time to ask when it got bad like this. And he never shamed you for only being able to say a few words at a time.
It nearly came out as a sob.
He shed his jacket and started unbuttoning his jeans. “Shirt or no shirt?”
He took off his current shirt and replaced it with his sleep one, nothing decorating the black fabric, just ultra-soft cotton.
It differed every time. Sometimes you didn’t want him at all, the thought of another person with you sending jolts of pain through your body. Other times you wanted him to stay, but on the other side of the bed. Or you wanted him close, but barely touching.
Or sometimes you needed him to put all of his body weight on top of you like a human weighted blanket.
He positioned himself, knees on either sides of your thighs, then he slowly lowered himself until his hands on either side of your face were the only thing keeping him up.
He finished lowering himself and settled his full weight against you.
You nodded and tucked yourself into the crook of his neck. “Better.”
“Three taps if I’m suffocating you.”
For the first time that day, you took a deep breath and relaxed.
