HARRY STYLES IMAGINES & ONE SHOTS

sick day

Wow, it's been so long since I last wrote in this lol.

★☆★☆★☆★☆

Y/N rolls over in her spot on the bed, blinking her eyes open to check the time on the clock sitting on her bedside table and reading "2:54AM" displayed in a bright neon red color. She groans internally, because when she wakes up in the middle of the night it's difficult to find her sweet sleep again.

But it's not the usual back aches, menstrual cramps, or phone rings that wakes her up this one particular morning; it's the whining and the moaning coming from a very irritable Harry laying next to her. She rolls back over to face him, struggling to distinguish whether or not it's Harry's large head or a pillow in the dark night light that is just a few inches away from her face.

"H-Harry?" Y/N clears her throat to rid herself of any grogginess and rasp in her voice. "Harry?"

He groans, rolling over to face Y/N who just stares at him with concern. Harry is a heavy sleeper. Especially on the nights of very long and hard working days. So Y/N is left grappling to understand why he's awake in the middle of the night after a day of countless meetings and studio sessions.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Y/N lightly shakes his shoulder, waking him up slowly and his eyes blink open, immediately exploring the space around him for the source of what, or in this case who, woke him up. "Are you okay?"

Instead of answering first, he coughs, and then coughs again, and then sniffles and his sickness tugs at Y/N's heartstrings. He's always so strong and collected around her, it hurts to see him so weak and vulnerable.

Fighting back the urge to aww, Y/N sits up and leans over Harry's large, frail body to switch on the lamp stand and illuminating their bed space. Harry almost scowls at the harsh contact of light but soon relaxes back into the pillows once accommodated.

Y/N's tough demeanor shortly breaks when she spots Harry, puffy-eyed with a cute red runny nose and shoulders tensed up to his ears.

"Awww," Y/N coos, bringing her hand up to massage where his hairline meets his forehead in small circular motions. Harry unwinds under her touch, nuzzling his face into her hand until he feels it best to move and lay his head down on her lap. As Y/N rubs his head, she doesn't note a warmth or heat so she knows it's not a fever. However, he was coughing and sniffling so he must've caught some sort of bug from work.

Y/N tries to remember when the last time he was sick, her insides instantly going into mother mode as she starts to worry on whether or not Harry is up to date with his flu shots. She can't remember the last time she'd seen him so ill, only remembering that whenever he was, he was either out of town or on tour so she didn't have to worry about taking care of him then.

"I feel so grossss," Harry wails, burying his face into Y/N's bare thighs and finding comfort there, his slight stubble brushing across the insides of her legs and causing Y/N to retract back out of habit from the tickling sensation.

"When did you start feeling this way?" Y/N manages to ask through her giggles when Harry starts to rub his chin over her skin on purpose.

He stops his actions momentarily to look up in thought. "Like midday yesterday, maybe? I thought it was just going to be a simple cough but I woke up feeling like death."

"Awww," Y/N coos again, provoking Harry to feel just a bit emasculated. He rolls his eyes before biting gently at the skin of her thighs, making Y/N yelp in surprise, before moving to lay back down on his side of the bed.

"I'll be fine. I'll just skip work tomorrow if I'm not feeling better by then."

"That'd probably be a good idea," Y/N responds. She sits there with him for a few minutes, continuing to comfort him with the small but deep massages into the tense muscles of his shoulders. When she notices Harry's lips parted slightly and small snores escaping him, she pushes herself out of bed and makes a quick trip to the kitchen before returning back to the bedroom with several items in her hold.