Florence Pugh Imagines

The sick russian

"Baby, you know the beds a whole lot more comfortable right?" You murmur in quiet amusement as you reach out to gently brush a damp strand of hair out of the sick Russians face.

Yelena simply grunts in acknowledgment as she wipes uselessly at her running nose, and you fondly roll your eyes as you lean down to press a kiss to her warm forehead. "I'll go get the bed ready okay? You stay here." You speak, and this time, Yelena doesn't even acknowledge you. She simply closes her eyes and falls into what you could only assume was a fitful sleep.

You weren't offended by the action. Yelena was notoriously grumpy when feeling sick, and due to the fact you'd been together for over three years, it was something you were now used to. The same couldn't be said when you first got together, but that was a story for another time.

With another sigh, -because it sucked when she was unwell- you leave the living room and make your way up to your shared bedroom. The bed was neatly made, just as it was everyday, and you don't waste any time in pulling the covers back and knocking the decorative pillows out of the way.

You make sure there were tissues and water readily available on the nightstand before heading back over to the sick blonde, and you couldn't help but smile when you realise she was in the exact same position you'd left her in.

Well, excluding her nose that was yet again running. Without a word, you grab a few tissue from the box on the coffee table and fold them in half before crouching down before her and pinching the end of her nose in a futile effort to get rid of the dripping snot.

She rouses slightly at the action, her face scrunching up in discomfort, and you quietly shush her with a gentle hand on her stomach as you finish with your task and make quick work of sanitising your hands. That done, you contemplate your next actions for just a second before leaning down and placing your chest flush against Yelena's own. Her arms seem to instinctively clutch your shirt on either side of your waist, and with a fond smile, you wrap your own arms beneath her lithe frame and haul her up into your arms.

Yelena let's out a quiet huff of indignation as her legs settle on either side of your hips, but she was seemingly too tired to react accordingly to the action usually despised you doing. It wasn't that she hated the affection. In fact, she thrives on it most of the time considering her love language -to only you and her sister- was most definitely physical touch.

Being sick just made her grumpy.

Yelena ends up goes limp in your embrace, her arms thrown over your shoulders as your own slip beneath her behind to keep her supported. Of course you manage to carry her to the bedroom without even breaking a sweat, Yelena now -you assumed- fast of in dreamland in your arms.

You place a tender hand against the back of her head before laying her down in bed, pulling down the shirt that had ridden up her stomach before reaching for the covers and pulling them up to her shoulders. Just as you go to leave the room to prepare some soup for a late dinner, a quiet, hoarse voice fills your ears.

"Where are you going?"

You look back to see Yelena now propped up on her elbow, a small frown etched on her flushed face.

"To make dinner," you tell her. Her frown deepens, and she shakes her head as she holds out her arm to you. Never able to tell her no, you temporarily withhold making a start on dinner and climb into bed next to her. When Yelena doesn't immediately cuddle up to you, you quietly call her over with a gentle word of encouragement and open arms.

Yelena settles almost immediately, her warm body sprawled out on top of you with her face tucked into the crook of her neck. Her hands cling to the shirt on either side of your hips, and with a soft sigh of content, you slip one of your own beneath her shirt and trail the tips of your fingers over the bare, warm skin of her back. The other simply rests as a comforting weight atop of the leg she'd hiked up to rest against your hip. 

"Get some sleep, baby." Your voice fills the content quietness of the room, and Yelena could do no more than hum as slips into dreamland.

**

I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope you loved reading it just as much. I'd love to hear your thoughts!!