Title: Lights Out
Pairing: Spencer Charnas x Reader
Word count: 821
Vibe: Soft, sleepy, cuddly migraine care. Quiet love. No cringe.
CW: migraine and symptom mention
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You donât even make it past lunch before the headache kicks in.
At first, itâs just pressure behind your eyes. Then it creeps up the side of your head, goes full throb mode, and suddenly every sound is the loudest thing thatâs ever existed. By the time youâre halfway back to the bus, your visionâs doing that weird thing where the light looks like itâs rippling.
You manage to text Spencer one-handed:
âmigraine. dead.â
Then you crawl into the dark lounge in the back of the bus, yank your hoodie over your head, and pray for death or darknessâwhichever shows up first.
You donât hear the door open, but you feel the air shift. Then a warm hand lands gently on your ankle and gives it a little squeeze.
âHi, babe,â Spencer says, voice way softer than usual. âHeard youâre dying.â
You groan. Thatâs all he needs.
He disappears for like thirty seconds, then comes back with water, meds, and one of his worn-in band tees that smells like cologne and cigarettes.
Youâre already curled on your side, hoodie half-eating your face, so he doesnât say anything. Just sits on the edge of the couch and taps the water bottle against your hand.
âHere. Slow sips, hereâs some Tylenol. You got it?â
You nod, barely cracking your eyes open to take the meds and sip at the water like a dehydrated Victorian child. He waits until youâre done, then pulls the bottle from your hand and trades it for his shirt.
âChange into this,â he says, still whispering. âYouâll overheat in that hoodie.â
You grumble something about being cold, but he just grins and helps you out of it anyway. Once youâre in his shirt, he tugs a blanket over you and slips in behind you without another word.
The second heâs curled around you, arm over your waist, itâs like your body finally lets go. Not of the pain, but of the tension. Heâs so warm. And quiet. And his thumb starts tracing lazy little shapes on your stomach, not trying to distract youâjust being there.
Eventually, you mumble, âSorry Iâm like this.â
He presses a kiss to the back of your neck. âLike what? Human?â
You smile, eyes still closed.
He keeps whispering like itâs a secret between you. âIf I could take it for you, I would. But since I canât, Iâll just be annoying and cuddle you until it passes.â
You snort. That hurts. He immediately kisses your shoulder like itâll fix it.
âOkay. No more jokes,â he says. âOnly cuddles. Doctorâs orders.â
He stays like that for the next hour, humming random bits of your favorite songs under his breath when he thinks youâre falling asleep, occasionally reaching for your hand and kissing your knuckles just to check in. At one point, he whispers, âLove you,â real soft like he doesnât expect you to answer.
You donât. Youâre half asleep. But you smile, and he sees it.
And he knows you love him so much











