5sos imagines/preferences

You're scared to throw up (michael)

The dingy backstage bathroom was filled with your dry heaving, choked sobs escaping your mouth at every breath. Not even a week after joining your boyfriend on tour, you had caught some kind of flu or stomach bug. For the past hour, you and Michael had been sitting on the cold stone floor of the bathroom as you heaved into the toilet, nothing coming out. Tears streaming down your cheeks, you shut your mouth again as air came out, your stomach still churning and flipping with pain.
"Baby," Michael murmured, rubbing your back some. "You won't feel better until you throw up. Just let it out."
You shook your head quickly, your head spinning. "Mikey, I can't!" You cried, leaning into his touch. "I hate throwing up Mikey, I just can't."
He sighed, taking his phone out and typing something before setting it on the sink. Your body lurched forward again, and you struggled to keep the acidic vomit from coming up into your esophagus. You gagged violently, shutting your eyes tightly as you leaned your forehead onto the toilet seat, not having the energy to feel disgusted by it.
A knock on the door made Michael's warm hand leave your burning skin, and the door opened to show Ashton holding a bottle of water and looking at you sympathetically.
"Still not feeling any better?" Ashton's voice seemed to boom, and tears leaked out of your glassy eyes as they squeezed shut. He apologized quickly and softly left, closing the door again.
"Babe, have some sips of water," Michael spoke quietly, brushing your hair away from your clammy skin and tucking several wisps into your sloppy bun.
"I can't Mikey," you whimpered, pressing your cheek into the toilet seat. Your body was so hot, but you were freezing.
"Y/N, you need to purge, okay? You need to throw up."
"I'm so scared," You cried harder, Michael's face softening as his arm wrapped around your waist gently.
"Throwing up isn't always bad, baby," Michael kissed your gross forehead, trying to calm you down. "Just have some water, puke, and then we'll go back to the dressing room and cuddle and you can sleep. You're so tired baby, so damn tired. C'mon, help yourself."
Eventually, you nodded, allowing Michael to hold the bottle to your lips. You took several small gulps and leaned forward, knowing that any minute your worst fear would happen.
And it did. Not two minutes later, you practically could hear the vomit rush up your throat, and Michael rubbed your back as you gagged the mixture into the toilet. The process repeated a couple of times -Michael flushing at every opportunity- until your body seemed thoroughly drained. You collapsed back against Michael, laying in his arms as he stroked your hair, occasionally rubbing his thumb across your salty cheeks. After about five minutes, he broke the silence.
"Do you feel a little better?" You nodded slowly. "Do you want to get up?"
You hesitated, but nodded again. You still felt like shit, but not like you were about to puke. Now, you just wanted to lay down and close your burning eyes.
Michael got up first, then gently pulled you to your feet. Your body was weak with exhaustion, so he picked you up like a little kid, one arm placed beneath your bottom and the other pressed into your back, your cheek resting on his shoulder as your glossy gaze faced his neck. He exited the bathroom, walking down the halls and using his foot to nudge open the door to the dressing room. Calum and Luke were currently playing Fifa and occupying the only couch in the room, but at Michael's pointed look, both scrambled to make room and sit in the plush chairs instead. Michael gently set you down on the couch, watching you shiver as you stared up at him with big teary eyes.
"I'm gonna get you some medicine to take the fever down, alright?" You nodded at your boyfriend, watching as he rushed from the room. You were freezing, but getting up wasn't an option, so you curled into yourself. From the chairs across from you, Luke and Calum watched with sympathetic stares, Luke getting up and searching through his bag. In the next moment, his large frame blocked your vision, and you felt him place one of his hoodies over you, warming you slightly and giving you something to snuggle into. You thanked him softly, and spaced out on whatever him and Calum said next.
Time passed by blearily, and you eventually felt a soft hand stroke your face, eyes focusing on Michael's as he propped you up and placed a cup at your lips.
"Sip," he ordered, and you drank the syrup in the cup. Next, he handed you two small fever-reducing pills, which you washed down with water.
"Lay with me?" You whispered, shaking even under Luke's heavy sweatshirt. You shifted back, and Michael climbed in beside you, letting your burning body cling to his and your face rest against his collarbone, both of you on your sides. His hands drew soothing circles on your back, and you finally let your heavy eyes fall shut, sleep taking you as you finally found comfort in the arms of who you love most.

Creds - 5-seconds-of-mischief tumblr