80s and 90s Preferences, Imagines & Headcannons

𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕔𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕕 𝕚𝕤 𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕜

𝔸/ℕ: 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕟 𝕚𝕟 𝕙𝕚𝕤 ℙ.𝕆.𝕍

ℝ𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕣 ℙ𝕙𝕠𝕖𝕟𝕚𝕩

I woke up to the sound of my daughter coughing. It was a deep, harsh cough that shook her entire body. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and sat up, looking over at Savannah's bed. She was curled up under the covers, her eyes closed tightly in pain.

"Hey, sweetie," I said softly, getting out of bed and walking over to her. "How are you feeling this morning?"

Savannah's eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at me with a weak smile. "I'm okay, Daddy," she said, her voice hoarse from coughing. "Just a little tired."

I sat down on the edge of her bed and took her hand in mine. "You don't have to be brave for me, Savannah," I said, my voice gentle. "If you're in pain, you need to tell me so I can help you feel better."

Savannah nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. "It hurts, Daddy," she whispered. "My chest hurts and I can't breathe."

I felt a lump form in my throat as I looked down at my daughter. She was so small and fragile, and it broke my heart to see her in pain. "Okay, let's get you some medicine," I said, standing up and walking over to the medicine cabinet.

I rummaged around until I found the bottle of cough syrup and poured a small amount into a spoon. "Open up," I said, holding the spoon out to Savannah.

She obediently opened her mouth and swallowed the medicine, making a face at the bitter taste. "Yuck," she said, wrinkling her nose.

I chuckled softly and ruffled her hair. "I know, it doesn't taste very good," I said. "But it'll help you feel better."

We spent the rest of the day together, Savannah curled up on the couch while I made her soup and read her stories. Every once in a while, she would start coughing again, and I would rush over to give her more medicine and hold her until the coughing subsided.

As the day wore on, Savannah started to look a little better. Her coughing fits became less frequent, and she even managed to eat a little bit of soup. "Thanks, Daddy," she said, smiling weakly at me. "I feel a little better now."

I leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Anything for my little girl," I said, my heart swelling with love for my daughter.

As I tucked Savannah into bed that night, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the time we had together. Even though she was sick, it was a reminder of how precious life is and how much I loved my daughter.

ℂ𝕠𝕣𝕖𝕪 ℍ𝕒𝕚𝕞

I wake up to the sound of my phone buzzing on the nightstand. It's 3 AM. I groggily reach for it and see that it's Noah's mom calling. My heart sinks. I know what this means.

"Corey, it's me. Noah's fever has spiked and I can't get it down. I think we need to take him to the hospital."

I sit up in bed, suddenly wide awake. "Okay, I'll be there in ten minutes."

I throw on some clothes and rush out the door. In the car, I try to calm myself down. Noah has been sick for a week now, and I've been taking care of him every day. But something about this call feels different. I can hear the fear in his mom's voice.

When I arrive at their house, Noah is lying on the couch, shivering and sweating. His mom hands me his bag and we head out to the car. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. I hate seeing him like this.

At the hospital, we're whisked into a room and a nurse takes his temperature. It's 103.5. I feel sick to my stomach. The doctor comes in and examines him, ordering some tests and prescribing a new medication. Noah falls asleep in my arms, exhausted from the fever.