Unnecessary Self Care

3.6K 98 18
                                        

"Whoa, Y/N, you're not looking so hot there." Stan's gravelly voice made you wince, the rasp reverberating against your skull, increasing the relentless pounding that thwarted your head. 

Nevertheless, you continued stumbling from the bedroom. "I'm fine," you said automatically, approaching the coffee machine and pushing the on button. Your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned against the counter, waiting for the machine to brew the pick-me-up you needed. "Just didn't sleep well."

Stan snorted into his own mug. "Right," he said when he swallowed. "Figured you couldn't with all that coughing you were doing." He turned to face you, concern etched on his features in a way you knew he would adamantly deny for anyone except those he clutched closest to his battered heart. "It's okay to rest, you know," he said. "You'd be telling me to do the same thing."

Making yourself smile, you picked up your mug and began fixing it with the desired creamer and sweetener. "I appreciate your concern, Stan," you said, "but really, I'm all good."

Stan shrugged, picking up his fork and popping a piece of Stancake into his mouth. "Suit yourself," he said plainly. 

~~~

Your hands trembled, and you huffed a sigh as you paused, lifting your pen from the paper and willing the weakness to subside so you could get back to work. The breath left as an annoyed exhale through your nose.

"Love? You're shaking," Ford was there, an arm reaching for your back as he knelt beside you at your desk. "Are you alright?"

You waved your hand dismissively in his direction. "I'm fine," you replied. "Just a weird muscle spasm, I guess." You began to write again. "Nothing to worry about."

His frown only deepened. "No, your handwriting," he persisted. "It's shaky. That's not like you."

You looked up at him with an irritated expression. "Maybe I'm just having an off day," you shrugged. "What does it matter?" At the increased octave, your voice cracked, cultivating an unwanted wince.

Ford raised his brows, a new understanding dawning on him. "Oh. I see."

You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear as you turned in your seat, poised to write again. "There's nothing to see," you said primly. "I'm perfectly fi- hey!"

Two strong arms wrapped firmly around your waist, lifting you from the chair you were once seated at like you were a dainty doll, ready to be played with. "Ford!" you snapped. "I wasn't finished with my notes!"

He eased you back, carrying you bridal style. "Doesn't matter," he replies. "You are now."

"Seriously?" you deadpanned. "Being evicted from the study?"

Despite himself, Ford smirked. "Seemed like a perfectly reasonable solution to me."

From the living space, a snarky voice called, "Told you so, Y/N!"

Ford plopped you down onto the bed, moving the covers back before draping them over your frame. Just as quickly, you pulled them off, jumping to your feet. "This is unnecessary-" you stumbled.

Swiftly, Ford's arm steadied you, easing you back down in your moment of vulnerability. "You were saying?"

An irritated breath. "I need to finish working," you insisted. But Ford's hand found your temple, tracing down your cheek and beneath your chin, silencing you into looking at him. "Why won't you let me take care of you?" he asked.

The question eradicated any response you could've mustered, and you felt yourself shrinking further into the sheets beneath you. "I... I don't know," you conceded.

He thought for a minute, before rising from the bed and switching off the lights, closing the door fully. Kicking off his boots, he climbed into the bed beside you, pulling your back against his chest as an arm draped over your torso. In a quick motion, he pulled the blankets over you both. "Does that help?" he asked, running a six-fingered hand across your scalp and through your head.

The gesture made your eyes droop. "You're going to get sick..." you whispered. 

A chuckle brushed against the back of your neck, warm and comforting. "Like that'll stop me from holding you," he said with a smile you didn't have to see to know was there.

Something about his touch lulled you deeper into the depths of receding consciousness. The room, now dim, felt warm in a way that comforted against the chills that had been attacking your body all day. And finally, finally, the pounding in your head dulled into a tolerable thrum. 

Maybe this wasn't as unnecessary as you initially thought.

~~~

Ford lilted out of a half sleep he didn't realize he slipped into. Light infiltrating through the curtains told him no more than an hour could have passed, a brief dose that thankfully wouldn't dismantle his hard-earned newly established sleep schedule.

Under his arm, your chest rose and feel in a steady, deep rhythm that told him you were very much asleep. He craned his head. Your closed eyes fluttered against your flushed cheeks, gentle movements of a dream. In that moment, he found himself awestruck by how beautiful you seemed in that moment. How beautiful you always seemed to him. 

Gently, he kissed your temple, not in a farewell but in a gesture of passion. "I love you, Y/N," he whispered, letting himself lower his head back down to drift off beside you. 


A/N:

Hello lovelies! I apologize for the lack of updates. It mainly stems from a bad mental health state I've been in for the past few months. Currently, I'm in quite a low place. But I do read your comments, I adore each one and they rejuvenate me to continue writing, even if I can't find the stamina to produce longer stories. Know I love you all, thank you so much for bearing with me. <33

A Friend (Stanford Pines x Reader)Where stories live. Discover now