Fall Out Boy Imagines 3: Return of The Feels

Pref #7: You're Sick

Patrick:

You sat on your bed with your hair in a bun, your nose red, and tissues surrounding you.

You hated being sick.

You wore your biggest sweater and pajama pants as you slowly died on your bed.

"(Y/N), you look awful." Patrick said as he saw you.

"Thanks Sherlock." You sniffled. He smiled and leaned on your doorframe.

"Okay I deserved that. What can I do to be of assistance to you, love?" He asked.

"Well...you can start by getting me soup. I have some in my kitchen. It can't be too hot or too cold. Then you can go to cvs and pick up some cold medication. I kind of used up the last of it last night. Oh! I need popcorn. I might get tired of the soup." You said. Patrick rolled his eyes with a playful smirk on his face.

"I really wish I could kiss you to shut you up, but you're all germy." He teased.

"Shut up!" You giggled, throwing on of your pillows at him.

"Eww sickie." He squealed. You pouted and Patrick flashed you a genuine smile.

"I love you sickie." He said.

"I love you too Patrick." You giggled.

Joe:

"What the shit! I'm gonna die here drenched in my own sweat!" You complained.

"You have a fever (Y/N). I'm gonna go put on the fan and get you some medicine." Joe said.

"I don't want the medicine." You frowned.

"It tastes like cherry."

"I fucking hate cherry flavored medicine." Joe rolled his eyes. He left and came back with a medicine cup and that damn medicine.

"Joe, I'm a grown ass woman. I'm not drinking that shit." You refused right before sneezing.

"(Y/N), you're taking this medicine." Joe sighed.

"Make me." You challenged. He narrowed his eyes and tackled you onto the floor.

"Joseph!" You squealed. He straddled your hips and held the medicine over your mouth.

"Ya know, if I didn't feel like total shit, I'd be really turned on right now." You commented, hoping to distract him.

"I bet you would be. Drink now." Joe deadpanned.

"Joey, I don't wanna-" You were cut off by his lips on yours. You were so shocked that you didn't even register that the medicine was being poured into your mouth. You reluctantly swallowed the cherry flavored liquid and looked at a smug Joe.

"You're gonna get sick, ya know." You stated. He shrugged and got off of you.

"It'll be worth it."

Pete:

Pete had two kids. He could take car of them when they're sick. The sleep, eat, watch tv, take their medicine, and sleep some more. It was easy. You...you were a whole different story.

"Peeeterrrrrr!" You called. Pete walked into your room where you laid under the covers. You looked so small and vulnerable. You hated being sick.

"Whatcha need?" Pete asked.

"I'm cold." You pouted.

"Baby girl, I already turned on the heat throughout the whole house. I'm burning up." It was true. Pete had already taken off his shirt and his chest was beginning to shine with sweat.

"Come and cuddle." You requested.

"You want me to get sick, don't you?" Pete sighed.

"Please. I'm sooooo cold." You sniffled. Pete caved after seeing your glassy eyes. He got under the covers and pulled you into your arms.

"You're just like Bronx. I used to do this to him all the time when he was sick. Sometimes I still do." Pete told you. You smiled, feeling yourself getting sleepy.

"Bronx is lucky to have such a great dad." You mumbled. Pete kissed your clammy forehead. And held you tighter.

"Thank you baby."

Andy:

Your boyfriend was at band practice while you were dying at home. Since yesterday you felt this cold coming along. You didn't wanna say anything because you knew Andy was gonna be busy, but if he found out you were sick, he'd cancel everything. You just didn't wanna inconvenience anyone. You sat curled up on the couch as a coughing fit hit you.

"(Y/N), I'm home!" Andy called opening the door. Shit. You tried to stop coughing and attempted to make yourself look healthy.

"Hey baby." You replied, hoping you didn't sound to congested. Andy walked into the living room where you sat, pretending to read a magazine.

"Hey lovely." He smiled, trying to kiss you. You didn't want him to get sick so you turned to instead let him kiss your cheek.

"You don't look so good, baby. And you feel warm." Andy noticed.

"I just didn't get much sleep last night." You lied.

"And the warm part?"

"I always get warm whenever you kiss me." Andy frowned and looked over to the trash can. He saw the bin full of tissues. Damn, so close.

"You're sick." He stated.

"Whoops?" You shrugged.

"Upstairs. I'm coming with medicine, soup, blankets, movies, and a chocolate." You pouted, but followed instructions.

"Whatever Mother Hurley." You mumbled.

"That's Mr. Mother Hurley to you missy." Andy sasses back. You giggled and weakly walked up the stairs.